You cant tell the difference between a handful of parsley and a bouquet of herbs just by the labels in the shop! And youve only ever seen berries in jam! muttered the indignant neighbour, Mrs. Thompson.
Emma and James arrived at their country cottage in late summer, the place theyd bought a year before. Now, with autumn settling in, they were determined to set everything straight. The house was charming, even in the cold, but the garden and outbuildings needed far more work than theyd imagined.
The overgrown orchard had to be turned into a pictureperfect haven. A new sauna had already been ordered; it would arrive and be installed within a week, they only needed to decide where to place it.
Alongside the sauna they planned a drying rack for linens, a woodshed, and a summer gazebo. Their children promised to come over and help with everything.
Its quiet here, perfect for living out our retirement, James said, looking out over the hedgerow.
Ive inspected the cellar; only the front door needs swapping, Emma replied.
Ive checked the back veranda. Remember our talk about the gazebo? Its not a waste. The veranda already has a large round table and antique chairs.
Well restore those chairs; theyll serve us a hundred more years. From there well have a view over the garden, sip tea and savour the peace. The garden gate also needs a new doorit feels as if someone was in the house just last winter.
Exactly. The doors are priority one. Everything will be done at the back, hidden from the road, but still beautiful. A lawn and flower beds will line the front.
The perennials are already there; well just have to decide what belongs where. Perhaps a few plants will need replanting, but well leave that for next summer.
A week later the sauna was delivered and the children arrived. Work on the plot began in earnest. Mrs. Thompson stopped by to make introductions, her grandchildren darting around the cottage grounds.
Do you have grandchildren? she asked.
Theyll be coming soon, Emma answered.
Why have you put up such a high fence? Weve always gotten along with the neighbours without any barriers.
No barrier? What was there before? We just took down the old fence that had collapsed. It didnt matter to you, but order is important to us. Rest assured we havent taken any extra metres of your land; the fence sits exactly on our boundary.
No gate? We always had a way through.
You mean a gate between our properties? No, that was never planned. Access is only from the road.
And what about the childrenyours and ours? I saw you cut down the apple trees; the kids loved climbing them.
We didnt cut them down; we pruned and cleared the dead limbs, then planted new saplings. Let your children climb your own trees.
Everythings new with you. Why plant hedges along our fence?
For a tidy border, of course!
Mrs. Thompson left, but she kept returning with fresh questions. Her grandchildren continued to frolic on Emma and Jamess plot until the new gate was finally erected.
Youve settled in nicely, the neighbour said again. Will you be staying through the winter?
Time will tell, James replied.
Why lock the gate? The kids used to run the ball right in front of the house; it was convenient and safe, away from the road traffic.
My garden beds are already full, unlike yours. You cant tell the difference between a pinch of parsley and a bunch of herbs just by the shop tags. Youve only ever tasted berries in preserves. If you want to be friendly, you need to talk to me.
We shut the gate to keep prying eyes away and to stop your grandchildren from treating this as their own playground. Two days ago they let our hens out, and we havent found a single one.
You keep hens? So youre planning to live here permanently?
We already are.
At the end of August they celebrated Jamess birthday. The children and grandchildren arrived; the whole family gathered on the veranda while the men grilled steaks and the women tossed salads.
Here we are, dropping by to wish you well, as good neighbours do, Mrs. Thompson announced, uninvited but smiling. Weve always been early, no need for an invitation. The kids know everything by sunrise.
Youre preparing a feast, the guests are here, so lets sit together. Itll be more fun for the kids, and its high time we became proper friends.
We didnt invite you; this is a family celebration, not a neighbourhood party. Our relationship is that of neighbours, not kin.
Perhaps one day it will be different. The children will grow up; maybe well even become relatives, the neighbour replied with a chuckle.
She kept rephrasing everything, never quite joining the table. Her grandchildren squeezed into every nook, shaking the apple and pear trees, climbing onto the sauna roof and nearly toppling over.
Later they were drawn to a pile of stones set around the outbuildings. One boy tossed them into the inflatable pool. No one noticed at first; when the water burst forth, the children screamed with delight.
Autumn is just around the corner, time to pack the pool away, Mrs. Thompson said, wiping a tear of laughter from her eye. The kids had fun.
Youre going home now! James called.
We havent even sat down yet, the kids are starving. Lets all rush to the table! Emma shouted.
The celebration was a little chaotic, but another would follow. A week later the children returned for another gathering: Emma and Jamess thirtyfiveyear marriage anniversary.
Someone had the bright idea to lock the gate early. It turned out to be the youngest guest, their sevenyearold grandson.
A soft knock echoed on the gate. The whole family pretended nothing was wrong as the scent of barbecued meat and fresh herbs filled the air, and a chill settled over the garden.
When will you be heading back to the city? asked a neighbour.
Well think about it. Autumn is here, well reap the harvest, then well see. The apples this year are superb. We love everything here, except for the occasional quarrel with Mrs. Thompson, but she isnt a real obstacle. Weve learned to live without her.
Everyone laughed together.
The guests drifted away, leaving Emma and James alone with the approaching autumn, then winter. They would keep trying. If it didnt work, they could always return to their flat in London.
Mrs. Thompson eventually drove away, her grandchildren needing to get back to school. Her teenage daughter was struggling, and the grandmother would help. Emma and James sighed with relief. God grant us neighbours like that, James muttered.
What do you think of all this? a voice whispered from somewhere beyond the screen. Like, drop a comment and a like.