Open Writing

Adam Forsyth found his gardener in the Sales and Services section of his local newspaper. 'LADY GARDENER'- read the advertisement - 'Weeding, Digging, Pruning, Planting, Grass Cutting and Hedge-trimming. General tidy-ups and Jungle Clearance.' Adam noted this last item conjuring up a Junoesque figure complete with machete, ready for all horticultural eventualities, before which bindweed and ground elder would vanish as snow in summer.

On the telephone that evening Mrs Clarkson had been soft-spoken. She was also precise and business-like. Adam explained that he was to be away for twelve months and required someone to give his garden attention at least twice a week. She suggested calling on him next day.

At three o'clock he heard the front doorbell ring and went through the side gate. Standing before the porch was a small figure, less than five feet in height. At first glance he thought a young boy in denims and baseball cap was standing there. Then the figure turned and Adam saw a tiny, elderly woman with a pair of the bluest eyes he had ever seen. She smiled up at him and said, "You must be Mr Forsyth. I'm Jane Clarkson."

He realised she must be quite old, but aside from a few wrinkles, her cheeks glowed pink and fine as a girl's. This small woman looked as if she could be a force to be reckoned with. She followed him through the gate into the garden, and he noted with pleasure her look of appreciation.

"You have a beautiful garden."

Adam grinned ruefully, "Yes and I'm afraid it's a very large garden. Do you think you can manage it?"

"Well let's have a look - shall we?" Preceding him down the terrace into the garden proper, she inspected the lily pond, then crossed the lawn to the long herbaceous border.

"Do you have any help - your wife perhaps?"

Adam smiled and shook his head. "No help, no wife. This was my parents’ house and my home when I was younger, and it is now mine. My mother died last year. She was head gardener in the family. Actually you remind me very much of her."

This remark was quite spontaneous, and he hoped she wasn't offended. He recognised the truth in it. Apart from the size element - Alice had been a tall, willowy five feet ten - Jane had that same reserve and assurance his mother had possessed. That was why, on sight alone, instinctively he knew he could trust her as custodian of his garden whilst he was away.

He showed her round the rest of the property, taking in potting shed, greenhouse and finally the conservatory. Jane Clarkson told him that she did have a part-time helper - her niece, and she would be happy to take on the work, in addition to her other commitments.

With a sense of relief Adam handed over a spare set of keys, and shook hands to seal the agreement, assuring her that all payment would be made through his property agent.

Adam knew that in the Science Department at the University he was highly regarded. The Head of Faculty thought his secondment a wise career move. However, Adam regarded the time he would be spending in South Africa as much needed therapy, following a miserable divorce.

Two weeks later he arrived in South Africa at the University of the Orange Free State in Bloemfontein. For the next academic year he would be replacing Nicholas Van Roon as Senior Lecturer in Geological studies in the Science department there. He met the fair-haired, bearded young Afrikaaner briefly for a short handover, before Nicholas left for England.

His colleagues in the Department were friendly and lavish with their hospitality. He was invited to innumerable parties and barbeques. Every weekend was some kind of celebration - a birthday, anniversary or house-warming. It was the sunshine that brought people together. In the six weeks since he had arrived it had not rained once.

His tiny self-contained bungalow was set in the extensive grounds of his landlady's enormous Dutch Colonial house. Hester Henriques, a widow, lived there with her three married daughters, their husbands and various children. Her origins were Portuguese. Two of Hester's sons-in-law were University Lecturers; Abbie the youngest daughter was married to a dental surgeon.

Initially Adam thought living in that large, extended family must by its very nature be claustrophobic, but after a few weeks he realised Hester's household contained the most contented group of people he had ever encountered.

Some days, when he returned from work, he would find a note pinned to the door of his bungalow inviting him to dinner, and whatever his mood, the day became brighter. Dinner was an informal affair, eaten at a huge wooden table around the back of the house. The family employed no servants; all waited upon one another or helped themselves. These evenings were a delight to Adam. He saw the obvious pleasure these people found in one another's company and envied them.

Adam had once thought his marriage would be like this. So it had been for the first year. They had both desired children. Diane was blonde and beautiful. She had been tranquil and happy until slimming became an obsession. Adam had suffered the consequences. When she wasn't attending intensive aerobic sessions, she was learning how to 'fight the flab' at Weight Watchers.

Almost six feet in height, she had weighed eleven stone, which for her height and build had been ideal. The last time he had seen her she looked like a frenetic six foot Barbie doll. She had no time for marriage or Adam anymore; any idea of children had been set aside. Her life had been taken over by what he regarded as a neurosis. By that time he also wanted out, to be finished with a marriage that had disintegrated into a miserable farce.

At that time the garden had become a godsend. Alice, his mother was already seriously ill; gardening had become too much for her. Adam moved out of the apartment and back home. He had not only discovered a hobby that was more than satisfying, but had re-kindled a loving relationship with his mother, before she died.

Since his arrival in South Africa he had met many beautiful women, who had attracted him. However, because of the failure of his marriage he had become cautious. Somehow he was no longer able to trust himself or others in love and lasting relationships.

In late August, shortly after he had arrived in Africa, he had travelled along the Garden Route in Cape Province to see the desert bloom. For a few short days this normally arid region became a glorious natural garden. Then within a week it would revert to what it was before - the driest and
most unproductive area in the whole of South Africa. Visiting Cape Town and Johannesburg, and motoring to Pretoria, when the purple jacaranda trees were in flower, he saw South Africa, astounded by such exuberant beauty. Yet, despite all this he longed for home and his own garden.

Time was passing fast, and one morning as he left for work he glanced up and his heart leapt. Above him he saw dozens of swallows circling and swooping as a prelude to their flight to Europe. Then he realised he was heartsick for England. Diane's irresponsibility no longer mattered, and he rejoiced that in a few short months, like the swallows he would fly home. He wasn't ungrateful but he longed for his own kind, to return, reinvigorated and re-establish himself, among the sights, sounds and smells of home.

The day he left, Hester and her entire family took him in a convoy of cars to the airport. He would sorely miss this kind, large-hearted family. They had liked him well enough to treat him as one of their own. They promised to visit him in the future. Not en masse, they assured him. Nevertheless he had a feeling that one day he would hear his doorbell ring and they would all be there. Well, no sweat, there was always room for a tent in the garden!

It was nearly midnight when he let himself into the house. A moonless night, so he could see little of his garden. He was so tired he felt he could sleep the clock round. At three o'clock he woke to the unfamiliar sound of heavy rain and smiled. 'I'm home again, and the rain will do the garden good', and he went back to sleep.

He awoke late. It felt good to be home. Then he went outside into the garden. It looked and smelt wonderful. It was the end-of-summer look, but there was still autumn to come - the chrysanthemums, sedum and Michaelmas daisies to look forward to.

Walking through the gap in the yew hedge, he came into the rose-garden and thought it looked even better than he remembered. Closing his eyes he stood blissfully breathing in the mixed fragrance of the roses.

Then he heard a smothered laugh and opened his eyes. There was a girl looking at him with an amused expression on her face. It was a lovely face. She was kneeling on the opposite side of the rose bed, trowel in hand, biting her lip in order not to laugh again.

Smiling she stood up. "You must be Adam Forsyth. Welcome home!"

"Thank you, I take it you are Mrs Clarkson's niece. Are you another Jane?"

"No, not Jane. My name is Eve." Hearing him laugh she blushed, then grinned, "Do you have a problem with that?"

"No problem, no problem at all. Would you like coffee? I was just about to make some." She pushed soft dark hair from off her face and he noticed her eyes were as blue as Jane's.

"Thank you, Adam, I'd love a cup of coffee. Actually Jane said you'd be back today. We thought perhaps you'd like some lunch, so we packed a picnic as a welcome home gesture. Was that OK?"

"That's very kind of you, I'll go and make the coffee." OK? It was bloody marvellous.

He made the coffee, and through the kitchen window saw her walking up the garden. She was tall and shapely and walked gracefully, her head held high. When she saw him looking at her, she smiled unselfconsciously at him.

Turning from the window he said aloud, "Adam and Eve and not an apple tree in sight nor a serpent between here and the zoo."

Everyone deserved a second chance, and he knew this was his. Picking up the tray he walked out into the garden.