The French Gardener (23 page)

“Splendid.”

“When were you thinking of going?” They served themselves and sat down.

“The end of May. The children will be at school all day so Verity won’t have to do much more than get them up in the mornings and pick them up after school and put them to bed. I think a week would do.”

Ava pulled a face. She didn’t like to leave the children. “You don’t think that’s too long?”

“Seven days? No, you need a proper rest.”

“Make it five, darling. I’ll get twitchy after that and they’ll miss us. Why not leave on a Monday and return on a Friday, that way we’re back for the weekend.”

“It’s up to you.”

“Yes, that’s better. Five days. Where shall we go?”

“Leave it to me. Tuscany perhaps, or somewhere in Spain. I’ll think about it.”

“Thank you,” she said, sighing heavily.

“Are you all right, Shrub? You don’t look happy.” He took her hand across the table and studied her face. “You don’t look happy at all.”

“Oh, I’m fine,” she said brightly.

“You’re still thinking about having another baby, aren’t you?”

“It’s on my mind, yes.”

“It’s worrying you.”

“It’s a big decision.”

“Very big. You’ve got plenty of time to decide. Don’t let it make you miserable. If you really want another child, Shrub, I’ll do my best to comply. You know I can’t deny you anything. It should give you joy, not make you sad.”

“I know. I’m just not sure I’m doing it for the right reasons.”

“We have three beautiful children who give us tremendous pleasure.”

“I know.”

“Think about it on holiday. The sunshine and rest will do you the power of good and put life into perspective. Now, give me a smile, darling. You’ve made a feast. I raise my glass to you. You’re a wonderful woman, Ava.” He brought her hand to his lips and kissed it. “And you’re
my
Shrub.” Ava was stunned. That was a gesture unique to Jean-Paul. Phillip had never kissed her hand before. She felt her cheeks burn and the overwhelming desire to cry. “Darling, you look like you’re about to burst into tears.”

“You’re so good to me,” she said, unable to hold back anymore. Phillip chuckled, assuming her tears were inspired by his loving reassurance.

“You deserve nothing less.” She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “When I married you, you were a girl. You’ve grown into a woman I am so proud of. You’re beautiful, intelligent, interested in everything, but, above all, unique. There’s not a person in the world who resembles you in any way. I’m the luckiest man in the world to have found you.”

“You’re making me cry,” she said, grateful for the excuse.

“Cry all you like, Shrub, darling,” he said gently and kissed her hand again.

Ava expected Jean-Paul to come back. The place was so empty without him it seemed inconceivable that he would not return to fill it. He belonged there now as much as the dovecote and the hollow tree, and his absence upset the harmony of the garden. Like a homing pigeon she made her way to the cottage, hoping that she would see the lights on and smell the smoke wafting out of the chimney; but it was cold and empty and unwelcoming. She stood on the stone bridge and leaned over, gazing at the hypnotic flow of water below. The breeze was warm and sugar scented, caressing her skin like soft fingers. The bushes and trees rang out with the song of birds. Above them all sang the skylark, its voice brave and clear and unwavering. Little violets opened their purple faces in the sun and white periwinkle trailed its wreaths along the riverbank.

She wandered through the gardens in a daze, allowing her melancholy to possess her like a malady. She lingered amidst the sweet smells of daphne odora and viburnum, drawing them in through her nostrils, anticipating the ecstatic soaring of her spirits, but nothing came. Her sorrow was heavy like stone.

Finally, she climbed into the car and drove to Toddy’s, a rambling old farmhouse nestled in the valley five miles up the road. She turned into the drive, not noticing the pink cherry blossom fluttering in the sunshine like clusters of little
butterflies. She parked her car outside the house and walked around to the back where Toddy was busy in the stables with her horses. When she saw Ava she waved heartily. Ava returned her wave with a forced smile.

“What a pleasant surprise first thing in the morning!” Toddy exclaimed, emerging from one of the stables in riding boots and jodhpurs that clung to her legs like a second skin. “Are you all right? You look frightfully pale.”

“I’m fine, just a bit down,” Ava conceded. There was no point pretending.

“Anything specific?”

Ava shrugged and took a deep breath. “I’m just tired,” she replied, thrusting her hands into the pockets of the long stripy coat she wore over jeans. “Phillip’s gone off to London. I barely see him these days. He’s so engrossed in his book.”

“Men! At least he’s got an interesting job, unlike Ben who can’t even mention his business without my eyelids drooping. Of all the men in the world, I have to marry an accountant!”

“Keeps you on the straight and narrow!”

“I’ve learned to be devious over the years, trust me. Come inside. I could do with another cup of coffee. You look like you could do with something stronger.”

Lying on a beanbag in the middle of the kitchen table was Mr. Frisby. “He’s been unwell,” Toddy informed her, running a hand over the sleeping animal’s back. “Nothing serious, just a cold. Must have caught it from the twins. Earl Grey or bog-standard builders’ tea?”

“Earl Grey,” Ava replied, sinking into the armchair. The kitchen smelled of coffee and toasted currant buns. Toddy clattered about taking cups from the cupboard and fishing two spoons out of the dishwasher she hadn’t bothered to unload.

“How’s the devilishly handsome Jean-Paul?” she asked, reaching to the back of the cupboard for the box of Earl
Grey. Ava hadn’t anticipated the mention of his name and blanched.

“Gone to visit his mother,” she replied.

“Shame,” said Toddy with a chuckle. “The girls will be disappointed.”

“The girls?”

“Samantha and Lizzie. Sadly, no great romance to report there. I don’t think they’re his type. He probably finds English girls very unsexy.”

“Probably.”

“Still, he’s hung in, hasn’t he? I thought he’d be bored stiff here in Hartington. Do tell him to come out riding again when he comes back. I think he really enjoyed himself.”

“Oh, he did,” said Ava hoarsely, barely daring to speak in case the tremor in her voice gave her away.

“To think you thought he’d last a week.” Toddy poured boiling water into one of the cups. “Do you remember Daisy Hopeton?”

“Of course. Mother never stops talking about her.” Ava was relieved to change the subject.

“Well, she’s back.”

“Back?”

“Yes. Staying with her mother. You should give her a call. Wasn’t she once a good friend of yours?”

“Yes, she was.”

“Well, she’s come for her children. She wants to take them out to South Africa. It’s all rather messy.”

“How terrible. Poor Michael.”

“To lose your wife and then your children. He might be a dullard but he’s a good father.” She handed Ava the cup of tea. “Sure you don’t want me to add a little brandy?” Ava shook her head. Brandy couldn’t cure the pain in her heart.

“I’m rather relieved, actually,” said Ava, thinking of herself. “I don’t think I could understand a woman who leaves her
four children. However in love she is, surely the greater part of her heart resides with them.”

“Love can be a terrible thing. It clouds one’s judgment. In the throes of passion it’s probably quite easy to forget one’s children.”
No it isn’t
, Ava thought to herself. Even Jean-Paul’s kisses couldn’t distract her from her love for Archie, Angus and Poppy. But she kept her thoughts to herself. “I don’t blame her running off with a dashing South African though. Michael’s a real old fart. Nice but very boring. You can tell just from his face that he’s never had a really good laugh.”

“She chose him,” said Ava.

“She made a mistake.”

“But it was her choice. She should live with it.”

Toddy looked at her friend in bewilderment. “You don’t really believe that, do you?”

“I do,” she said emphatically. “She shouldn’t break up a family and five people’s lives for her own happiness. It’s selfish. Compromises have to be made. For the sake of her children she should have stayed.”

“You sound like your mother.”

“Do I?”

“Yes. It’s not like you to be so judgmental. Surely, if the poor girl’s miserable it’s better for all of them if she leaves.”

“She should make the best of it. Those children depend on her.”

“They’ll get over it.”

“That’s where you’re wrong. They’ll never get over it. It’s no coincidence that the first question every therapist asks is ‘tell me about your childhood?’ The foundation blocks are deeply important. Crack those and you jeopardize their entire future.”

“You’ve been spending too much time with Verity.”

“I don’t always agree with my mother, but in this case, I
think I do.” She looked up at Toddy and narrowed her eyes. “Could you leave your children for a man?”

“He’d have to be one hell of a man.”

“I’m serious.”

“I don’t know. I don’t think one can speculate. If I find myself in danger of doing a Daisy, I’ll call you and we can discuss it. Perhaps you’ll be a little kinder to me.”

“I wouldn’t. I’d be thinking of the twins. Personally, I couldn’t. I can tell you that now. I really couldn’t, not even for one hell of a man.” She lowered her eyes and stared into her tea. “I couldn’t bear to hurt Phillip either. He’s so good to me.”

“You’re really not yourself today, Ava,” said Toddy, drawing her chair closer. “Is there something you want to tell me?”

“No,” she replied hastily, shaking her head. “I’m feeling weepy for no reason. It’s the prettiest time of year and I feel low. Silly really. Not like me at all.”

“Hormonal,” said Toddy knowingly.

“Yes, that must be it.”

“The monthly blues.”

“Poor Daisy Hopeton and those dear children. It breaks my heart. She will never be happy. How can she be, out of the mess she has made? I wouldn’t want that on my conscience.”

“Let’s go for a ride,” said Toddy, draining her coffee cup. “It’ll do us both good. The wind in your hair, the smell of spring in the air, galloping over the hills. Come on!”

Ava borrowed a pair of boots and a hat and took to the hills with Toddy. Her friend was right, up there she could see for miles and the leaden feeling in her heart slowly grew lighter. As much as she pitied Daisy Hopeton and disapproved of her actions, she couldn’t help but feel jealous that she had done what Ava herself would never have the courage to do. Daisy would return to her lover in South Africa and
no doubt she’d bring the children with her. Daisy would have her cake and eat it in great big mouthfuls. Ava would never know how such a cake tasted.

The following weekend it snowed. The cold almost silenced the birds. Ava threw bread onto the lawn and broke the ice on the birdbath. The starlings and cock chaffinches looked so pretty in their new spring coats, flying down to eat the crumbs. By midmorning the sun had melted most of the snow away, except under the bushes and in the shadows of the trees where it still remained cold. The dogs rolled about in it and the children tried to make a snowman, but by lunchtime he was a sorry heap of sticks and slush. As the days progressed the weather grew warmer again. The garden burst into blossom, the bees awoke from their winter sleep, and Ava called Daisy Hopeton.

To Ava’s surprise, Daisy sounded thrilled to hear from her and promptly asked her over for coffee. She seemed upbeat, not at all chastened by her appalling behavior. Ava wondered how she managed to look herself in the mirror after having hurt so many people. A hair shirt would be more appropriate. It wasn’t fair that she was happy after having made her husband and children so
un
happy—holding the prize of a future with her lover that Ava denied herself.

Daisy’s mother, Romie, lived the other side of Blandford, about half an hour away, in a pretty white house adorned with pink montana.

Ava followed Romie into the tiled hall. The ceilings were low and beamed, the walls white, the rooms small and cozy. Ava remembered the times she had stayed there as a teenager for dances and dinner parties. Before she could dwell on the memory of a certain pink satin dress, Daisy was striding out of the kitchen to greet her. “I can’t tell you how nice it is to see you, Ava! Most of my friends have disowned me.” The
two women kissed. Daisy smelled of Yves Saint Laurent’s Paris. “Come and have some coffee. I’ve opened a packet of biscuits.”

“You’re just in time,” added Romie from the butcher’s table. “She’s off to South Africa on Friday.”

“For good?” Ava asked.

“Forever,” said Daisy, pouring coffee into the cups.

“Oh, Daisy. You must have gone through hell.”

“It’s been terribly hard. But I’ve done enough weeping and wailing. One has to look on the bright side or one would go mad.”

“How did it happen?”

Daisy smiled resignedly and shook her head. “I’m amazed you came to see me, Ava. I know your mother disapproves very strongly.”

“Duty and all that,” said Ava, embarrassed that word had got back. “She’s a different generation.”

“Listen, she’s not a lone voice, I assure you. What I did was unforgivable. I fell in love with another man. But I was so unhappy, Ava. I was a shadow of myself. Wasting my life with a man I no longer loved, loving a man I couldn’t have. My love consumed me. I was a terrible mother and a terrible wife, no good to anyone.” She swept her curly brown hair off her face and Ava glimpsed a hint of weariness in her eyes. “Michael and I weren’t like you and Phillip. If we had enjoyed a contented marriage it would never have happened. Unhappiness is the perfect breeding ground for infidelity.”
Loneliness is, too
, Ava wanted to add, but kept her thoughts to herself.

“How did you meet him?”

“We were in Cape Town for a wedding. It was love at first sight. I thought long and hard, Ava, but in the end I felt it would be better for the children to grow up in a house of joy rather than a house of sorrow.” She nibbled a biscuit reflectively. “You see, Ava, we never had the beautiful estate that you have. My children are going from an ordinary little suburban
house to a stunning country house in the middle of mountains. It’s an idyll. They’ll love it. South Africa is beautiful.”

“But what about Michael?”

She lowered her eyes. “Don’t,” she groaned. “He’ll see them in the holidays. They’ll get the best of both worlds.” But she clearly knew that wasn’t true. Nothing could replace their father. She suddenly looked old and deflated. It was the first time that Ava had seen the true face she hid behind her smile.

“You’re doing your best,” said Ava gently. “You can’t replace the eggs once the shells are broken. But you’re making the best omelette you can.”

Daisy laughed. “Trust you to come up with something like that. I
am
doing my best. God, I’ve had every accusation thrown at me. From callously leaving my children to suing Michael for hundreds of thousands. First, I never left my children. I was always going to come back for them. Michael knew that. Second, poor old Michael doesn’t have any money, so I can hardly fleece him of what he doesn’t have.”

“So, what’s this South African like?”

Ava and Daisy took their coffee cups and strolled around the garden. It was a beautiful morning, clear and bright, the freshly emerging leaves still glittering with dew. “How has your mother taken it all?”

“She puts on a good show, but she’s ashamed, of course. But what can she do? She’s my mother, she has to support me. I’m running off to South Africa, she has to stick around and answer to all her friends. You wouldn’t believe the people who have turned their backs on us. The least expected.” She shrugged. “At least I now know who my friends are.” She turned to Ava. “I can count on you, can’t I?”

Ava smiled. “You can,” she said firmly. “I understand. Love is never simple. It can turn the sanest mind mad with longing. It distorts everything. Once the dust settles, you’ll be happy
out there with your Rupert. You’ve got courage. I don’t think I’d ever be as brave as you. I suppose one has to weigh it all up—do I live for me, or for others?”

“And you never know how you’re going to act until it happens to you.”

Ava drove away envying Daisy. She had got what she wanted, but at what cost to Michael? Ava loved Phillip too much ever to hurt him like that.

Just when Ava was beginning to tolerate life without Jean-Paul, Phillip announced he’d had a telephone call from Jean-Paul’s father, Henri. Ava was in the vegetable garden planting seeds with Hector. When she heard the news she stood up, trowel in hand, her face and hands grubby with mud. “You’ve heard from Henri?” she repeated, anxious to hear more. “What did he say?”
Is Jean-Paul coming back?