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.Perhaps with the same instinct that had told Harold what was between Leo and her, Louisa knew without a doubt that Bella wouldn’t have understood the wild joy she had felt in giving all that she was, holding nothing back and begging for more.She forced her mind back into line and glanced at her wristwatch, satisfied that she was exactly on time for her appointment.Her working life took over; only later would she allow memories of the past two days to intrude.The rough area around The Retreat soon began to resemble a garden.The turf was well laid, the fruit trees giving shape to the ribbon of land to one side of the house.Right from first moving into the house Louisa had surprised herself with how enthusiastic she had felt about bringing life and colour to it, but with the lawn as a backdrop there was no stopping her.‘Here’s our best customer,’ Margaret called to Hamish.‘I wonder she has a patch of earth with nothing growing in it, the boxes of plants she collects.’‘Och, but there’s space and to spare there.It’s taking shape though, Mags, and she works like a Trojan.’‘Well, she’s just parking.Best you come and serve her.’ Then, with a saucy wink, ‘Reckon it’s you she’s after more than the plants.Come on, she’ll be in in a minute.’‘Chump! Tell her I’m out in the potting shed.If she needs a bit of advice with her choice she’ll know where to find me.’Margaret was disappointed.She and her twin could almost read each other’s thoughts and she was sure he was sweet on Louisa Harding.And what could be better? It was time he was thinking of something outside the nursery.By this time next year she and Dennis would have enough saved to put down a deposit on their first home, and once they were married she wouldn’t find it so easy to spend all her days working.But, of course, Louisa was a professional woman – she might not want to be tied to serving in a shop or helping outside.‘The sunshine’s brought you out early, Louisa.I’ve only just got the place set up.Did you want plants or have you come to see Hamish?’‘Both.Or maybe hanging baskets are more in your line than his?’‘Sometimes I make them up for folk, but it’s best if you have a word with Hamish if you’re choosing what to put in them.You don’t want to mix things that like a lot of water with others that are averse to it.’‘I don’t know about that sort of thing.I just go for colour,’ Louisa answered.‘Petunias are always a bright splash, don’t you think?’‘They last well, too, as long as you dead head them every day.But they do tend to get a bit leggy and can make the basket look untidy as the season goes on.Have a word with Hamish – he’s out in the potting shed.’As Louisa made her way between the tables of plants, Margaret stood back from the open doorway but made sure she still had a view of the potting shed.Come on now, brother Hamish, she’s a strong-minded woman if ever I saw one, and if you want to make an impression don’t pussyfoot about.Maybe he pussyfooted and maybe he didn’t, she had no way of knowing, but they were a long time in the shed and then both came out to make the choice.By the time they came back into the shop, each pushing a barrow filled with colourful plants, nearly half an hour had gone by.‘How soon can you get them ready, Mags? By this evening?’‘If I don’t get too many interruptions, but on a day like this we may be busy.’‘Don’t rush for this evening.Suppose I come and get them tomorrow afternoon? I have to go to the ironmonger in town to buy brackets to put on the walls.I may not have them up as soon as this evening.’ Louisa meant to keep the evening free.Sometimes she was disappointed but often Leo came out on the pretext of having a drink at the Pig and Whistle.Occasionally that’s what he did too, taking Louisa with him and enjoying the passing glances and raised eyebrows.Those were the times when, back at the farm, he would casually say he had ‘dug Louisa out’ to come with him to the pub.Her favourite evenings were those when he made no mention of her at home, and neither did he go to the Pig and Whistle.On that particular evening Louisa had given up hope of his coming and was in her workroom when he arrived.‘I’d just decided you’d stood me up this evening.’‘Um? Stood you up? No, nothing of the sort.’ Clearly his mind was somewhere else.‘What’s the matter? Trouble?’ In her mind trouble meant had Bella realized how they spent their time.‘It’s Dad.Something is different about him.I know his memory lets him down, but it’s more than that.It sounds uncaring to say he looks cunning – anyway, of course he isn’t cunning.He’s lost and frightened, poor old boy.’ For a moment he seemed deep in his worried thoughts before he visibly brightened.Even his voice sounded normal again.‘One thing is certain: he absolutely dotes on Ali.Well, of course he does; as soon as he comes near her she beams at him and holds up her arms.’‘I know.Bella told me.’ She hoped he wasn’t going to spend the evening with his mind on what was going on at the farm.‘Shall I get you a drink?’‘No, thanks.I’m not staying this evening.Bella was putting Ali to bed and Dad was gazing at a very flickering picture on the television.I must get the chap from Sewards to come and look at it.That set has been nothing but trouble.Is yours all right? Can it be the weather? I know nothing at all about the wretched things and neither do I want to.’‘I watched the news and that was OK.Anyway, I mustn’t keep you; I can see you’re anxious to get home.’He looked surprised by her tone, and then his expression changed as he held his hand out to her.‘Anxious, yes; but wanting to get home, no.I want to stay with you, that’s all I want.But the old man worries me.Lou, I wish I could help him.I can feel his sadness, his fear at what’s happening to him.’‘Sorry, I sounded snappy.I hate the way we have to live – the pretence, the cheating.’‘And you think I don’t? Listen, I came so that I could tell you this – just between ourselves, mind.Not a word to the others.An old friend – we go back to school and then college together – lives in London and writes for an engineering monthly magazine, but he has a cottage near Leominster where he often spends his weekends.He says we can use it any time we like except weekends.See, I have the key here,’ he added with the smile of a triumphant schoolboy.She knew she should resist him but was powerless, and found herself moving to perch on the arm of his chair, bending to kiss his brow.‘A very useful friend to have.’ She said it to please him, as what he said had only added to her sense of shame.Shame that she wanted to be at the cottage, somewhere cut off from everyone who knew them, shame that she was stealing temporary happiness to which she had no right, and shame that of the two sentiments it was the first, the eagerness to cut themselves off from everything but each other that was predominant.‘I told them at home that I’d had a long talk on the phone to Gerald Sinclair – that’s his name – and he’d invited me over to see the place.I said I’m going tomorrow and shall stay the night
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