“It’s not that bad.”

“I can’t read this. At least my doctor prints my prescriptions. How am I supposed to decode this? The women of Bletchley Park would struggle with this.”

He grunted and came over. “Evergreen, flowering season, growth speed.” He pointed at each word. “It’s not that hard.”

I didn’t see it. At all.

“Thank God you didn’t have to figure out the Enigma Code or Hitler might have won,” I muttered.

“I’ll take that as a thank you,” Miles replied dryly. “Are you done taking up my time? Can I get back to work now?”

“Yes. Thank you for your help. I appreciate it.”

He nodded in acknowledgement of my gratitude and turned away, leaving me to stand alone on the patio.

“Take the stick out your arse as you go,” I muttered, turning away.

“Did you say something?” Miles said, pausing in the entrance.

I started, then hugged the pad of paper to my chest. “Talking to myself, that’s all.”

“That’s the first sign of madness, you know.”

“No, the first sign of madness is having hairy palms.” I glanced up in time to see him sneak a quick look at his hand. “The second sign is looking for them.”

He glared at me.

I grinned.

Miles shook his head and left for real this time, while I fought back a small laugh. Boy, he really didn’t like me, did he?

Gosh, I was going crazy. A couple of days ago I was annoyed about it, but now, I found it funny.

With a sigh, I turned back to the space, immediately slumping my shoulders when the magnitude of the job once again washed over me.

It was time to retreat to the internet for research.

***

Somehow, by some kind of bloody marvellous miracle, I managed to get my design done three hours before I needed to submit it. I wasn’t sure if I’d get the top marks I knew I was capable of, but this was only one half of the assignment.

The other half was the one that mattered.

Bringing the garden to life.

That one I knew I could ace, so I was holding onto that.

“Have you seen the weather forecast?” I asked Aunt Cat. I was leaning against her dressing table and helping her choose her clothes for her weekend away with Dad, but I wasn’t entirely sure she was going to need the sunhat she was currently putting in her suitcase. And that was merely based on the fact they were attending a wedding in Wales, not the Algarve.

The storm forecast notwithstanding.

“I have. But it’s the Met Office, dear, and they don’t know their arses from their ears.” She put some flip-flops in on top of the sunhat.

No. That wouldn’t do.

“I think you do this deliberately.” I pushed off the dressing table and nudged her out of my way. I couldn’t stand the manner in which she packed, and she knew it. I all but emptied her suitcase onto the bed and set to folding it and repacking it correctly.