You only know the difference between a sprig of parsley and a sprig of dill by the tag in the shop, and youve never seen fresh berries except in jam! the offended neighbour, Mrs. Whitaker, muttered.
Valerie and Victor had driven up to their country cottage in Kent. Theyd bought it in the amber of autumn, and now, with the frost already whispering, they were determined to set everything straight. The house was charming, even in winter, but the grounds and the lot of unfinished business stretched out like a tangled skein.
The overgrown garden needed a miracle. A sleek new sauna had been ordered; a delivery truck would arrive in a week to install it, once they chose a proper spot.
At the same time they planned a timberclad leanto for washing, a woodshed, and a little gazebo. The grandchildren had promised to drive up and lend a hand with whatever was needed.
Its quiet here, we could live the whole year. Were retirees now.
Ive inspected the cellar; the only thing to replace are the doors.
Ive looked over the back veranda. Remember we talked about a gazebo? Nothing to do with that. On the veranda sits a large round table with antique chairs.
Just put the furniture back in proper order and theyll last another hundred years. From there well look out over the garden, drink tea and admire the view. The doors there need changing too; it feels as if someone had been in the house this winter, or perhaps just yesterday.
Exactly. The doors come first. Well do everything in the back yard, out of sight from the road, and make it beautiful. In front of the house well have a lawn and flower beds.
The perennials are already planted; we just have to decide what stays where. We may have to move a few, but well leave it as it is for this summer.
A week later the sauna arrived, and the grandchildren pulled up in a battered van. Work began on the plot. Mrs. Whitaker popped over to make introductions, her greatgrandchildren darting round the cottage like startled sparrows.
Do you have grandchildren?
Yes, theyll be coming.
Why such a massive fence? We neighbours have managed without any boundaries.
Without boundaries? What was there before? We just took the old fence down. It had collapsed. You didnt mind, but we need order. Dont worry, we didnt steal any extra metres; the fence sits exactly on the property line.
No gate, then? Weve always had a way through.
You mean a side gate between us? No, thats not planned. The only entrance is from the road.
What about the kidsours and yoursrunning about? I see youve cut down the apple trees, and the children loved climbing them.
We didnt cut them down; we pruned and cleared, and weve planted new saplings. Let your children scramble over your own apple trees.
Everythings new with you. Why plant hedges along our fence?
For a touch of prettiness.
Mrs. Whitaker walked away, then returned with fresh queries. Her greatgrandchildren kept bouncing around Valerie and Victors plot until the new gate was finally in place.
Youve settled in well, she said again. Will you stay here through the winter?
Time will tell.
Why lock the gate? The children used to kick a ball right in front of the house; it was handy and even.
My beds are full of vegetables, not yours. You only recognise parsley by shop labels, and youve only tasted berries in jam. Youd better be friendly with me.
The gates shut to keep prying eyes out and to stop your greatgrandchildren from taking over. Two days ago they let our hens out, and we havent found a single one.
You keep chickens too? So youre really settling here?
We already live here.
At the end of August they celebrated Victors birthday. The children arrived, the greatgrandchildren in tow; the whole family gathered beneath the veranda. Men grilled meat, women tossed salads, and the table was laid out with crisp white cloth.
Here we are, dropping by to wish you well, neighbourly style. We always turn up uninvited, because were neighbours. The kids know the routine from sunrise.
Youre preparing a feast, the guests are here, so its a celebration. Lets sit down; the children will have more fun together. Its about time we became friends.
So we never actually invited you. This is a family affair, not a neighbourly one. Our relations are neighbourly, not familial.
Maybe one day they will be. The children will grow up. Perhaps well even be related, the neighbour replied with a laugh.
She kept reshaping the conversation, never quite leaving. Her greatgrandchildren climbed everywhereshaking apple and pear trees, scrambling onto the roof of the sauna, thankfully not falling.
Later they were drawn to a ring of smooth stones set around the outbuilding. One child tossed them into an inflatable pool; the splash went unnoticed at first. Suddenly the youngsters shrieked with delight as water sprayed everywhere.
Soon itll be autumn, the pool will have to be put away, Mrs. Whitaker said. The kids had fun.
Time to go home!
We havent even sat down; the children are ravenous. Lets all gather round the table!
The celebration fell a little short, but another lay ahead. A week later the children returned for the 35th anniversary of Valerie and Victors marriage.
Someone had the bright idea to lock the gate. It turned out the youngest their sevenyearold grandsonhad done it.
A soft knocking echoed on the gate. The whole family pretended nothing was happening. The air smelled of grilled kebabs and fresh garden herbs. A chill settled over the garden.
When will you be in town again?
Well think about it. Autumn is coming; well harvest, then see what comes next. The apples this year are magnificent. We like everything here, except perhaps the neighbour, but she isnt a real obstacle. Weve learned to ignore her.
Everyone burst into laughter.
The guests drifted away, leaving Valerie and Victor alone with the turning season, then the cold winter to follow. They would try their best; and if it failed, they could always return to their flat in London.
Mrs. Whitaker eventually drove off. It turned out she and her greatgrandchildren had school to attend. Her daughter was struggling, and the grandmother would help. Victor and Valerie sighed with relief. God grant us such troublesome neighbours, they muttered.
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