Id always watched Emilys garden with a sort of quiet pride, for it was the very dream that had driven her to retire to the countryside. Shed spent years scouring the market for the perfect little hamlet, one perched just beyond the bustle of Oxford, where the air was clean and the world moved a pace slower than a Sunday stroll. When she finally found a sturdy cottage on the edge of Ashford, surrounded by a modest garden and a plot of land that stretched to a field and then a wood, she knew shed struck gold.
Every evening the sun slipped behind the firs and spruces, painting the sky in colours that made her linger on the path home. Early spring, when the earth was still soft from the thaw, Emily patched the sagging fence with wire and timber, even as her neighbour Margaret, who lived next door, called out, Give the fence a proper rebuild, Emily. Emily simply smiled, tightened the axe she was using to drive the metal post back into the ground, and replied, Let it stand a while longer; when it finally gives way Ill put in something sturdier.
Margaret, a widow of ten years, often talked of the men whod left the villagegone to the city, grown old, or passed on. Im a widow now, shed say, and youre not much better off, are you? Emily laughed, Im not a widow, just divorced. When my husband and I realised we were only holding each other together for our daughters sake, we went our separate ways after she was married off. Its a relief not to be a burden to each other.
Spring turned into summer, and Emily spent most of her days in the garden and the woods. Ive never been out in the fresh air this much in my life, shed declare, pointing to the yew shrubs opposite her house and the pine wood that always yielded a decent mushroom haul. The blueberries and strawberries are bursting this year. Margaret would nod, Its nice to see someone so pleased with their move.
The garden flourished. Large heads of cabbage rested in the rows, potatoes began to sprout, and the harvest looked promising. Emily started digging up potatoes for her kitchen, unable to get enough of the tender, fragrant vegetables. One evening she told Margaret, Im heading into town for a few daysour old school reunion is coming up, and were celebrating the birthday of our classs matriarch, Sylvia. Margaret waved a friendly goodbye.
At the reunion, Emily flaunted pictures of her cottage and bragged about the bountiful crop. The soils rested for two years, she explained to her old classmate Dan, and next season Ill be ordering a manure spreader to keep the beds fertile. Dan advised, Dont push too hard. If you need a hand, just shout. Emily thanked him, though she intended to manage on her own.
She and Dan had once shared a flirtation in their school days, but life had pulled them to different universities and then apart. Now, each year they met at Sylvias place, both widowed and content with their independence, which made their conversations easy and warm.
One night, after theyd all gone home, Dan walked Emily to her cottage, and they talked in the kitchen until nearly two in the morning. Its getting late, Emily said, glancing at the clock. You should head home. Maybe I could stay a bit longer? Dan teased. No, Im off to the village early tomorrowtake a taxi. He left, and Emily settled down, feeling the comfort of the days talks and the thought of the cake shed bake for Margaret later.
The next morning, Emily caught the first bus into Ashford, breathing the crisp, dewy air as the distant calls of roosters greeted her. She stepped into her cottage, poured a cup of tea, changed into work clothes, and headed out to the garden. The village was quiet; only a few locals were emerging from their homes. She waited until around nine oclock before walking over to Margarets for tea.
In Margarets garden she spotted the potato clumpssprouted shoots strewn about. Someone had been pulling the potatoes, peeling them, and had collected the biggest one. Emilys heart leapt. She moved further and saw that the largest cabbage heads were missing tooalmost half the crop gone.
She let out a startled cry and then saw the broken fence. The weak post shed driven in spring lay smashed on the ground, surrounded by large footprints. She ran to Margarets window and knocked. Whats happened, Emily? Margaret asked, appearing almost immediately.
Someones robbed me, Emily sobbed, Come out, lets see whats left. Margaret threw on her coat and hurried out, muttering, Scoundrels they knew the house was isolated and no dog was guarding it, so they thought they could get away with it.
They examined the scene. It was clear the thieves had come on bicycles, slipping over the fence from the nearby fields, bending the wire and slipping into the garden, snatching whatever they could. They had tossed the small potatoes aside and hauled the biggest cabbage heads away in sacks.
Its not much of a loss compared to what I grew, Emily sighed, but still. Margaret replied, The vegetables have no names on them; you cant prove they were yours. Everyones gardens are the same. I suspect they came from the neighbouring village where folks are desperate for cash. Its hard to prove anything, and theres no point in arguing over it.
Emily asked, So what now? I was so happy, feeling like a kid in pink glasses, thinking everyone was kind. Margaret reassured, Its not our kind of place, love. Folks around here struggle, but God sees everything. Ill go fetch Mr. John, hell fix the fence. Then well think of the next steps.
John, a sturdy seventyyearold handyman, arrived before lunch and replaced the broken post with a solid wooden one, plugging the gap with sturdy boards. Here you go, miss, he said, and dont worry. This sort of thing happens in every village. Better not leave the house unattended. He added, Youll also need a new lock on the front door, something sturdy, so thieves cant see youre alone.
Margaret suggested getting a small dog for extra warning, and John chuckled, A little bark will do. Emily wiped her eyes, feeling the sting of loss more for the effort shed poured into the garden than for the missing produce.
Dont fret, Margaret embraced her, Ill give you as much cabbage as you need. My garden is full; well have enough for winter. They all sat down for a modest lunch at Emilys cottage, where she recounted her city meeting and spoke of the safety measures shed soon implement.
A week later, Emily called David, a friend from the town, to help her buy a new deadbolt and to get a quote for a proper fence. Ill come out, take measurements, and well plan the work together, David said, promising to stay a few days to look over the property.
When David arrived, he hugged Emily and, in a lighthearted moment, planted a kiss on her cheek. The villagers whispered that Davids arrival was like a new handyman in town, ready to set things right. Together they fetched new metal posts and timber from the city, and within a week the new fence stood firm.
John, delighted with his handiwork, brought home a puppy from his sistera little brown spaniel he named Baron. The pup scampered around the yard, more toy than guard, but Edward, the villages elderly cat, kept a wary eye on him.
One afternoon, during tea with Margaret and John, Emily asked, Is everything settled? Is the new manDavidgoing to stay? John teased, We all see the spark between you two. Margaret laughed, Hes a good worker, not looking for money, just freedom to do his job.
David, after a short holiday, returned with supplies, joking, Ill only ask for a bit of stew and a cake, the garden will feed us all. Emily replied, Just bring a helping hand, and youll also watch over the house while Baron grows. David, who commuted to the city for work, would only occasionally stay in his flat, keeping the bills paid.
Emily eventually let go of her city flat, waiting for David to bring back groceries from town. Their life together became a comfortable routine, with occasional trips to the nearby spa in the spring, while John and Baron kept the cottage safe.
Enjoy your holiday at the spa, and dont worry about the house, John would say over the phone. Everythings looked afterBaron, the cat, the fence. Emily would answer, The best holiday is right here, in our village. I cant wait to be back.
Thus David and Emily built a life together in Ashford, their days filled with golden sunsets over the fields, walks through the woods, and Baron chasing the crows along the lane, joyous as his owners.
