We wandered between the colourful buildings, stopping for lunch at the café before returning to his car and parking in a remote location to make the most of his fold-down seats.
We’re burning brightly, but that’s no surprise – everything is all still so new.
I’m so caught up in thinking about Ash as I water the pots in the greenhouses on Friday that I don’t notice Philippa Berkeley until she’s right at the door.
‘Ah!’ she says. ‘Eleanor!’
I almost jump out of my skin.
‘Good afternoon.’
‘Those should be going in about now, shouldn’t they?’ She nods at the pots.
‘We’re putting them in next week,’ I reply, noticing again that I’ve adopted my ‘proper’-sounding voice.
‘I just came past the lilac circle. It’s looking a bit worse for wear.’
‘I’m afraid we’ve been short on volunteers this week. Deadheading is on the list of things to do.’
‘I see.’
She seems to be waiting for something, and then I realise it’s quite possibly me.
‘I’ll do some deadheading now,’ I tell her, retrieving my secateurs from my trug.
‘Wonderful,’ she replies.
I follow her out of the greenhouse and almost jump out of my skin for the second time that day when I see Ash making his way through the walled garden.
‘Ashton!’ his mother calls.
Ash glances our way and does a double take. His eyes flare slightly, but the way his mouth tilts at the edges tells me that he’s pleased to see me.
‘What are you doing out here?’ Lady Berkeley asks her son.
‘Just taking a shortcut to the workshop.’
He’s got his Honourable Ashton Berkeley voice on, but it doesn’t freak me out the way it used to. In fact, I find it kind of hot how curt he sounds, how …commanding.
I have a vision of him tying me to his bedposts and doingnaughty things to me and then Lady Berkeley brings me back down to earth with a bump.
‘Have you met our new gardener, Eleanor Knapley? She’s here from RHS Garden Wisley in Surrey.’
‘Yes, I know.’
‘Of course – I’ve introduced you already.’
‘No, Mother,’ Ash says, and his eyes land on mine for the briefest of pauses before returning to his mother. ‘This is Ellie.’
It takes me a second to realise what he’s doing.
Philippa Berkeley looks at me.
‘Ellie …’ Her brow furrows as though she’s trying to place me.
‘Ellie,’ Ash repeats, with even more meaning.
Suddenly she does a double take that makes her look just like her son.
