His face would be priceless.
Showering away the morning’s embarrassment and dressing in khaki shorts and a black vest with her usual high tops, Cherry drove five miles to the garden shop on the outskirts of Campbeltown. She bounced through the door, optimistically clutching a list of plants she hoped she could find at least half of.
Inside the shop, her mind was blown.
Lush greenery spilled from every shelf, bracket and inch of space. The fragrant aroma of lilies, verbena and orchids filled the air. Cherry closed her eyes, castback to her small childhood garden with her dad, playing her favourite game of identifying the flowers from their smell, picking out the subtlest tones from so many overlapping and intermingling layers.
‘Morning!’
She opened her eyes.
‘Oh, hi.’ It was no wonder she hadn’t noticed the assistant sooner. In her floral blouse and green overalls, blonde hair spilling out from the confines of a brightly coloured scarf, earrings resembling hanging baskets, she was like a plant in motion. Peering at her badge, Cherry could see that her name was – fittingly – Summer.
For a hot, fleeting moment, Cherry wanted Summer’s life. The seemingly easy existence of pruning and misting plants in a garden shop on a peninsula on the west coast of Scotland. Of not having to worry about winning or losing at work, about tells, bad hands, poor decisions.
Of course, appearances meant nothing; she was well aware of that.
‘Is there anything you’d like help with today?’ Summer asked.
‘Yes, I’m overhauling my husband’s garden, and I need all the things on this list.’ Cherry held out the piece of paper to Summer, who scanned it quickly.
‘We can do most of these. Come with me.’ She began pushing a trolley through the centre with fluid efficiency, placing things in or asking Cherry if this thing or that thing worked for her. In went potting compost, garden tools, geraniums, impatiens, lavender, pansies, sweet pea, honeysuckle, jasmine. Plants and flowers that were bright or smelled intoxicating and divine. Cherry threw in additional items as she saw fit – a bird bath, feeders and seed, andwind chimes.
As they moved around the shop, Summer chatted away. ‘Do you live in Campbeltown?’ she asked with a vibrant inquisitiveness, which Cherry liked. She craved an easy-going female friend to talk to.
‘I’ve just moved to Kinshore, actually. Married a local.’
Summer swung round, her eyes even brighter than before. ‘No way! You’re not Sean’s wife, are you?’
‘Yes.’ Cherry raised her palms. ‘Caught red-handed.’
Summer laughed. ‘Sorry, sorry, that came out a bit stalkerish. I didn’t mean to alarm you. I’m friends with the Butlers, and since Nate told me about the wedding, I’ve been dying to meet this amazing woman Sean married. I’m Summer.’ She tapped at her badge. ‘As you can see. Right, I think we have everything now.’ She swung the trolley back towards the checkout.
‘How do you know the Butlers?’ Cherry asked as they settled into a rhythm at the till – Summer scanning and Cherry packing things into boxes.
‘Ah, it’s a long story, but I’ve known them all since I was a teenager. My adoptive mum fostered Nate, Cara and Eilidh as babies. When I moved to Kinshore as a teenager, we got to know each other and into this habit of meeting for tea once a week. All the foster babies together. Sean too, actually.’
‘Really? But he’s not…’
‘No, he’s not, but he came all the same. That’s Sean for you! Love him.’
‘That’s fascinating. I’m still learning about him. Do you all still have tea together?’
‘I wish. It’s rare that it’s ever the five of us now that Eilidh’s in Edinburgh and Cara’s busy filming. Nate visits when he can… Works a lot of lates. Sometimes it’s me, him and mum, which is…’ She trailed off, holding thescanner in one hand and a geranium plant in the other. It didn’t take close scrutiny to see that her mind was distracted.
‘Is…?’ Cherry prompted.
‘Sorry.’ Summer’s eyes readjusted from somewhere far away. ‘It’s lovely…really lovely. Anyhoo, Mrs Butler, pop back if there’s anything else you need. Or give us a call and someone can deliver.’
Ten minutes after returning home from the garden centre, motivated and restless, Cherry started on the lawn. She hacked back the grass with a scythe, then hauled out the lawnmower from the shed and ploughed it up and down until the grass was a respectable length and the flowerbeds reachable at last.
Unfortunately, reaching them also meant weeding them.
With the sun at its highest point in the sky,she was a sweaty, grass-stained mess, but invigorated. Alive.
Around 4.30 p.m. as she was laying out all the plants and equipment for the next part of the job, she realised she’d forgotten to bring home the bird bath and feeders. She would need to collect them tomorrow.
After clocking off around 7 p.m., Cherry took a cooling bath, watched a little TV whilst eating a sandwich and thinking about how empty the house was without Sean.
