As winter thawed and spring ushered in longer days and warmer winds, nature awakened from her long sleep. Daffodils opened their pretty yellow trumpets, forget-me-nots spread over the grass in puddles of blue and the woods began to bud with new life. Daisy began to walk to work, and, as spring gained momentum, those daily walks became more pleasurable. Sir Owen allowed her to use the farm tracks, which cut the journey by half, and she no longer needed to wear a hat and scarf, but a light denim jacket. The sun was higher in the sky and warm upon her face. The twittering of birds in the hedge-rows was a heartening affirmation that winter was over at last.
It wasn’t long before she completed Lady Sherwood’s drawing. It had taken more time than she had intended because she had had to draw three dogs rather than one. They had agreed on the composition from the photographs Daisy had taken, deciding on Mordy and Archie lying on the stool in the middle of the drawing room while Bendico watched them from the floor. It had worked very well and Daisy was pleased to have caught them like that without having had to arrange them artificially. Sir Owen and Lady Sherwood were astonished with the final result. Lady Sherwood had followed the whole process, wandering into the barn every now and then for a chat and a sneaky peek at the picture. But she had refrained from looking at it in the last days, in order not to ruin the big reveal. Sir Owen had exclaimed, ‘Good Lord!’ when he saw it for the first time, his ruddy face deepening to purple as he gazed into the oddly living eyes of his pets. ‘What a talented young lady you are.’
Lady Sherwood had clapped her hands with pleasure and praised Daisy for capturing her pets so beautifully. ‘How different it is from a photograph!’ she had exclaimed and Daisy had been delighted, because that was exactly what she had wanted her to say.
They decided to hang it above the fireplace in their hall, which was an unexpected honour for Daisy. She was pleased she had spent so much on the frame, because it looked wonderful up there on the wall and everyone who came in would see it. Lady Sherwood had paid her cash and told her that, in future, she really should charge a little more. Especially now that she had a couple of works under her belt. Daisy decided she would, but not too much; she didn’t want to put anyone off at a time when she needed to attract clients.
Now she was working on Carole Porter’s Pekineses, all three of them, which was quite a challenge as they were skittish and very attached to their mistress. They couldn’t have been less interested in her.
Dennis completed the mole trap. He had tried a couple of designs that hadn’t worked, and evidence that the mole had been there and got away had infuriated the impatient Commodore. However, after a little tinkering, the trap was successful and the Commodore captured his first mole. His excitement was such that one could have been mistaken for thinking he had been awarded the Victoria Cross. He burst into the shop with the tiny mole in the trap.
‘What have you got in there?’ Eileen asked, peering at the box. ‘Is it dead?’
‘It’s a mole and it’s alive,’ said the Commodore gleefully.
Marigold, who loved animals, immediately grew anxious at the thought of the poor creature imprisoned in a box. ‘You must let it go at once!’ she exclaimed.
‘Would you like to see it?’ he asked.
‘Will it bite?’ said Eileen.
‘No, you must take it out right away and put it somewhere safe,’ said Marigold firmly.
The door opened and Dolly appeared with Cedric. ‘Good morning, everyone,’ she said. Spring had put some colour in her cheeks.
‘What have you got there, Commodore?’ asked Cedric.
‘A mole,’ said the Commodore, eyes gleaming. ‘Caught it this morning in the trap Dennis made me. Would you like to see it? It’s not dead. It’s very much alive. I’m about to put it somewhere safe.’
‘Not in my garden, I hope,’ said Cedric, thinking of his immaculate lawn.
‘Nor mine,’ said Dolly.
‘Where are you going to put it?’ asked Eileen.
The Commodore opened the lid and they all peered in, except Marigold, who did not want to see a trapped animal, vermin or otherwise. ‘I’m going to let him out in the countryside,’ said the Commodore.
‘Oh, he’s adorable,’ gushed Dolly, letting go of Cedric’s arm. ‘May I hold him?’
‘He bites,’ said Eileen. ‘You don’t know what diseases he might have.’
Dolly reached in with her finger and stroked the mole’s back. ‘They’re much smaller than one thinks,’ she said quietly. She sighed heavily.
‘Let’s go and find the cocoa powder,’ Cedric suggested, drawing her away.
The little bell tinkled again and in came Mary Hanson. The Commodore shut the box, glancing anxiously at Mary’s feet. Fortunately, she had not brought her dog. Dolly looked at Mary. Mary caught her eye and turned away. Cedric sniffed loudly, lifted his chin and ushered Dolly down the aisle. Eileen watched them closely, then murmured to Marigold under her breath, ‘Knives at dawn.’
‘Will you tell Dennis of my success,’ the Commodore said to Marigold.
‘I will,’ said Marigold. ‘He’ll be very pleased. Now off you go and put him somewhere safe, where he can dig away to his heart’s content without having to worry about being caught in a trap.’ She turned to Mary. ‘Good morning, Mary,’ she said, aware that Dolly and Cedric were loitering at the other end of the shop on purpose. ‘What can I get you?’
‘Don’t worry,’ said Mary, blushing. ‘I’ll come back later.’
‘Don’t let them chase you out of the shop,’ said Eileen in a sympathetic voice. ‘You have to stand up to bullies, Mary.’
Mary sighed. ‘I just wanted some teabags,’ she said. ‘I’ve run out.’
‘You stay here and I’ll get them for you,’ said Marigold.
She got to the end of the aisle and began searching. But she couldn’t remember what it was that Mary wanted. She knew it was somewhere here, because this is where she had walked immediately after Mary had told her what she wanted. She tried to focus. If she’d had cogs in her brain she would have heard them turning, or rather grinding, with the effort. She was used to these lapses of memory now. Blanks where nothing remained, like black holes in her mind. She stared into the black hole and felt the familiar fear creeping across her skin, the dizziness in her head and the strange feeling of detachment, as if she were miles away, watching herself failing from a distance. She took a deep breath. She could feel Dolly and Cedric’s eyes upon her as they lingered near the sugar. Marigold knew she needed to hurry, because Dolly and Cedric couldn’t leave while Mary was at the till, and Mary couldn’t leave until Marigold had got her what she wanted. What was it? But nothing came into her mind.
She ran her eyes over the shelves, hoping that something would jog her memory. She felt very hot and wondered whether it was time to turn off the heating. After all, it was March and the weather was mild. Her gaze fell upon the boxes of Tetley teabags. She wished she could go home and have a cuppa right now. Just the sight of them there, on the shelf, restored her a little. Then the black hole disappeared, quite suddenly, and she remembered. Tea! She picked up the box with a trembling hand and walked unsteadily back to the counter. Mary and Eileen were busy chatting and Mary didn’t raise an eyebrow when Marigold put the teabags through the till. It felt like she’d been lost there in the aisle for a long time, but no one else seemed to have noticed.
Mary paid for the teabags and left the shop. Tasha returned from her tea break with a smile. Dolly and Cedric bought the cocoa powder and departed. Marigold looked at her watch. It was time to take Dennis his tea.
She found him in his shed, working on a bookcase for the vicar’s study. ‘Hello, Goldie,’ he said when he saw her coming. ‘You’re a love.’
She put the mug down on his workbench. ‘The Commodore caught a mole,’ she told him, pleased that she remembered without writing it in her little book.
‘Did he now? Alive?’
‘Alive and well, I think.’
‘That’s good. I’m glad the trap worked. Where’s he going to put it?’
‘I can’t remember, but hopefully somewhere safe.’ He watched her leave then went back to work.
Marigold walked around the garden, breathing the fragrant air with delight. The scent of spring was very different to the scent of summer. She could smell the sweet grass, the Daphne, the fertile aroma of the earth, warming slowly in the milder weather. She still fed her birds, although she didn’t really need to now, for there were worms in the soil and insects on the breeze. Yet she so enjoyed watching them flying about the feeder. She just so enjoyed them.
When she got to the kitchen, Nan was at the table, doing the crossword. ‘Burst of bad temper, seven letters,’ she said.
‘Tantrum,’ said Marigold.
‘That was an easy one. How about, waste away, nine letters.’
‘Oh, that is hard.’
‘Droop? No, not enough letters. Wither?’
‘Ah, I know . . .’
Nan looked up expectantly.
‘It’s on the tip of my tongue.’
‘Well, what is it? Fourth letter is I, because three down is rib, for tease. I got that one.’
Marigold could feel the word as if it were a potato in her mouth, as if it had round bits and smooth bits and knobbly bits. As if it had texture. But she couldn’t articulate it. ‘Give me a minute and it’ll come to me.’ It was so close.
Nan sighed. ‘Very well. I’ll do another clue.’
The word bothered Marigold so much that she decided to leave the room and work on her jigsaw puzzle. She hadn’t told anyone, but she was finding this puzzle very challenging. She had managed to do the border, but she was having trouble doing the rest. It was as if the cogs in her brain were having to work through porridge. They simply weren’t as efficient as they once were. It was as if they needed oiling to get them moving smoothly again. She put on her glasses and went through the pieces, separating them into colours and patterns. She found two that went together and felt a rush of jubilation. She didn’t notice the time passing. Suddenly, the sight of a pigeon outside her window distracted her and she looked at her watch. Goodness, she thought. I must get back to the shop. And I need to make Dennis his tea. She hurried into the kitchen and boiled the kettle. Just as she was leaving, the word came to her, as if someone had dropped it into her head from above. ‘Dissipate,’ she said to her mother.
‘Of course. We should have known that, shouldn’t we?’
Marigold felt better now that she had remembered the word. She went through the garden and opened Dennis’s door. He looked up in surprise. ‘Hi, Goldie,’ he said.
‘Your tea. A little late this morning. I got carried away doing the puzzle.’ She put it down on the workbench and frowned at the mug already sitting there. ‘I must get back to the shop,’ she said, not noticing the bewildered expression on Dennis’s face or the doubt in his eyes.
As she walked back through the garden she felt a little put out that he had made himself a cup of tea. He had never done that before.
A few days later Marigold forgot that Batty was coming for supper, so when he appeared in the kitchen at seven she was surprised to see him. But Marigold was getting good at hiding her memory loss. The little book helped (when she remembered to look at it). The red book in the shop was also a vital lifeline and no one questioned the amount of things she wrote in it, because it was her job to write things down. The list on the fridge winked at her whenever she opened the door. However, Suze had told her that Batty was coming for supper that morning while she had been feeding her birds, so by the time she went back into the kitchen she had forgotten all about it. Really, her mind was like a sieve. If she didn’t write something down immediately, it vaporized. Gone. Like steam from the kettle. But she smiled graciously at Batty and told him to help himself to a beer. She went to lay an extra place at the table and didn’t think that Batty noticed.
The family tucked into their roast chicken and Batty and Suze sat side by side, grinning at each other like loved-up teenagers. Marigold saw that Daisy was happy too. She was enjoying her new job, working up at the Sherwoods’ farm, and was getting plenty of commissions. More, in fact, than she could handle. Nan said it was because she was so cheap. ‘If you charged more, you wouldn’t be so popular,’ she had said, but Daisy had ignored her.
It wasn’t until the end of the meal that Suze whispered something to Batty, who then stood up, as if he was about to make a speech. Batty wasn’t very tall, but he was undoubtedly handsome with a chiselled face, curly brown hair and deep, sensitive brown eyes amplified by the Trotsky-style glasses he wore.
The table went silent. Dennis caught Marigold’s eye. She recognized the smile in his eyes and smiled back hopefully.
‘I have an announcement to make,’ said Batty, his lips curling as the upturned faces looked at him expectantly. ‘Last night I asked Suze to marry me and she said yes.’
Suze jumped to her feet and kissed him loudly on the cheek. ‘Actually, what I said was, yes please!’
‘Well, congratulations to the both of you. I think this calls for a bottle of wine,’ said Dennis, pushing out his chair.
‘Oooh yes, how nice,’ said Nan. There was nothing negative about a glass of wine.
Marigold’s eyes filled with tears. ‘I’m so happy for you, dear,’ she said when Suze embraced her. She put her arms around her daughter and held her close for a moment. ‘I’m happy you’ve found someone to share your life with,’ she said, thinking of Dennis and the many wonderful years they had spent together.
‘Life is a long road,’ said Nan. ‘Made easier if you have someone to share the journey with. That’s what your grand-father used to say. Of course he was right, but then he died, leaving me alone. One of you has to go first, I suppose. Only the lucky few go together.’
Dennis returned with a bottle of chilled white wine and Daisy steered the subject away from death, and from Nan. ‘Is there a ring?’ she asked.
‘The ring!’ Suze exclaimed as Batty pulled a grey suede box out of his pocket.
‘We didn’t want to ruin the surprise,’ he said, opening it and slipping it onto Suze’s outstretched finger. The surprisingly large diamond solitaire sparkled expensively.
‘It belonged to Batty’s grandmother. As it turned out, his grandfather had exceedingly good taste in jewellery,’ said Suze happily. ‘Isn’t it beautiful? Like a star.’
‘There’s only one star,’ said Batty smoothly.
‘And that’s me!’ said Suze with a giggle.
Batty put his arm around her. ‘That’s you, sweetheart.’
‘Once we’re married we’re going to rent a flat in town, but until we find the right place I’m going to live with Batty at his parents’ house. They have more room.’
‘We’ll miss you, Suze,’ said Marigold, suddenly feeling a pang of anxiety at the thought of her youngest flying the nest at last.
‘But this is the beginning of the rest of your life,’ said Daisy, lifting the glass of wine her father had just given her.
‘A toast,’ said Dennis, putting down the bottle and raising his glass. ‘To Batty and Suze and many happy years together.’
They all raised their glasses.
‘A summer wedding will be nice,’ said Nan. ‘Don’t leave it too long, will you? I’m nearly ninety, you know, and the Grim Reaper is sharpening his scythe. I do want to be there.’ ‘A summer wedding will be lovely,’ Marigold agreed, thinking of all the lists she was going to have to write in order not to let Suze down on her big day.
Daisy sipped her wine, resisting the envy that was creeping into her heart like a worm in an apple. She didn’t want to resent her younger sister for getting to the altar before she did. However, she couldn’t help but feel a little sad. If she hadn’t wasted six years with a man who never intended to marry her, perhaps she’d be married by now. Maybe she’d even be a mother. Again she wondered whether she’d done the right thing. Should she have stayed with Luca and compromised? Was there anyone else out there for her?