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you sure?’ said Kezzie. ‘I’d love to.’

      ‘I can’t pay you,’ warned Joel, ‘or not much. And I can’t help except at weekends. I have to go to work.’

      ‘I’ve some money put aside from my redundancy, and I’ve got some freelance work, so I can survive for a bit. Besides, it could be my showcase garden, and help me get other business. You would be doing me a favour. And I can look into the possibility of getting a grant to help restore if you like,’ said Kezzie, unable to hide the excitement in her voice. ‘Edward Handford is of historical significance, I’m sure someone would be prepared to help with the restoration. I really am keen. I’ve been looking into Edward’s work. He adapted a lover’s knot garden from an original Elizabethan design and made his own version, which was more in keeping with Victorian times. But that might seem a little over the top for modern tastes, so I thought I could stay true to the basic vision, but simplify it a bit, and have heartsease at the heart of the garden. It seems appropriate.’

      ‘If you say so,’ said Joel looking amused.

      ‘Sorry, running away with myself again,’ said Kezzie. ‘Bad habit I have. But look, I’ve printed off some stuff that I thought might be interesting.’

      She showed Joel everything she’d found so far along with a plan of an Elizabethan knot garden, which Edward had apparently used as a guide.

      ‘This is amazing,’ said Joel. ‘I had no idea of any of this. You’ve really inspired me to start again with it.’

      ‘I’m really frustrated that I haven’t managed to track down Edward’s actual design,’ said Kezzie. ‘Having that would be an enormous help.’

      ‘You can just about see the shapes of the original,’ Joel said. ‘It has been semi maintained over the years I think. But in the latter years, poor old Uncle Jack couldn’t cope any more and it fell into a complete state of disrepair. So now it’s full of weeds as you’ve seen, and needs cutting back and starting again. I only got as far as trimming back the box hedge.’

      ‘I think it was beautiful, what Edward Handford did for his wife,’ said Kezzie. ‘All that effort to create a garden that spelt a message of how much he loved her.’

      ‘I don’t really know an awful lot about Mum’s side of the family,’ said Joel, with a frown. ‘My Uncle Jack – well not so much an uncle, more of a second cousin, we just called him Uncle Jack – lived here alone. I think his mother was one of Edward’s children, but I’m not sure. I should ask Mum about it. She must know something.’

      ‘So how did you end up with this place?’ said Kezzie.

      ‘By dint of being the only one left,’ said Joel. ‘My mum’s got Parkinson’s so though Uncle Jack left it to her, Claire and I did a deal where we took out a mortgage on this house, and bought Mum a warden-assisted flat in Chiverton. She always used to go on about the garden here, and I was intrigued. I came here a few times when I was a small child, and I remember breaking into the knot garden. It was like a secret place, all locked up. When Jack died there was no one else but Mum and me to leave it to. I fell in love with it immediately. Claire and I had so many plans …’

      His voice trailed off wistfully, and Kezzie felt as if she’d walked in on some private grief. She wished she knew him well enough to give him a hug.

      ‘Claire never liked it though,’ he continued. ‘She thought it was gloomy. I took out the heavy oak panelling in the hallway and made it lighter, but what with work and looking after Sam, I haven’t really had time to finish what I started.’

      He looked sad, as if something pained him.

      ‘You’re right about the garden of course, that was the one bit of the place Claire really liked. I should have got it sorted.’

      ‘Well, now you’ve got me here, you can,’ said Kezzie.

      ‘Really?’ Joel looked as if he couldn’t quite believe what he was hearing.

      ‘Really,’ said Kezzie.

      ‘It’s masses of work,’ said Joel, ‘and I won’t be able to help you much.’

      ‘I know,’ said Kezzie. ‘But I think it would be amazing to restore it, a huge privilege. Please let me.’

      Joel stood for a moment looking as if he were battling with some inner demon, then he gave Kezzie a huge, and charismatic grin.

      ‘You’re on,’ said Joel, and it was all Kezzie could do to stop herself from punching the air in delight.

      It was a quiet evening in the Labourer’s Legs, only a few punters had wandered in. It was the middle of the month, so people were probably saving their money till pay day, there wasn’t any football on and the darts match scheduled for the night had been cancelled, leaving the sandwiches that Sally the landlady had laid on wilting on the bar.

      ‘Go on, take them home with you at the end of your shift,’ Sally said to Lauren, with a slightly patronizing, sympathetic tone, as if she’d never be so foolish as to have been left holding one baby, let alone two. She also seemed to assume because Lauren was young she couldn’t do anything for herself. Lauren had to bite her tongue from saying that it was most unlikely that two four-year-olds would be interested in stale prawn sandwiches, let alone risk a tummy bug. It was a battle at the best of times to get them to eat anything other than chicken nuggets and chips.

      The clock dragged slowly towards 8 p.m. Two hours into her shift and already Lauren was losing the will to live.

      ‘Mind if I pop upstairs to put my feet up for a bit, love?’ Sally’s inevitable request came as it always did, early on in the shift. Then a bit later on she would wander down, and say, ‘You’re all OK for locking up, aren’t you, love?’ before disappearing again to leave Lauren cashing up alone.

      Lauren’s mother was always telling her to stand up for herself, but jobs for single mums didn’t come easy in Heartsease and she couldn’t afford to give it up, much as she frequently felt like telling Sally to stick her job.

      Bored, she half-heartedly let her eyes settle on the TV screen in the corner, which was tuned in to Sky Sport, and began to clean the bar surface down.

      Phil Machin, one of the regulars, walked up to the bar. ‘Barrel’s gone, love,’ he said smiling cheerfully. So off she went down to the cellars to change it.

      When she came back, she spotted a missed call on her phone, which she’d left at the bar. It wasn’t a number she recognized. Odd. She wondered who it could be. It was probably a wrong number.

      Around 9.30 the place started to fill up a bit. The lads from the cricket club were on a pub crawl, so it was nearly 11 p.m. before she spotted another two missed calls. Who on earth could be trying to contact her?

      As it had got busy, Sally and her equally lazy partner, Andy, had made their way downstairs, and Lauren was relieved that for once they let her go at just after 11. At least she’d be on time for her mum.

      As she walked back up the road home, the phone rang again.

      ‘Who is this?’ she said.

      ‘Lauren? Is that you?’

      Oh my God. Lauren stood stock still, her heart hammering wildly in her chest, as she heard a voice she hadn’t heard in a very very long time. ‘Troy?’ she said incredulously.

      Chapter Six

      Lauren pushed Sam up the road on her way back from the school run. It was nearly half term, the weather had turned from bright autumn golden days, to a wet, windy drizzle which was doing little to lift her spirits. She was dog tired. The phone call from Troy had unsettled her to say the least. Troy had spectacularly left her in the labour ward, claiming that because he lost his mother to cancer when he was very young, he ‘didn’t do’ hospitals, running out on her when she needed him the most. After which he had shown no interest whatsoever in meeting

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