It was you who first told me about it. Leonard had seen an advert in the local paper and the two of you had been to look at it. It seemed to have everything I needed, and if I took it, you wrote coaxingly in your letter, we would be within visiting distance of each other again. Yet the first time I saw it all I noticed were its faults.
Something drew me back. The sky was cloudy as I cycled up the rough track, and this time, as I went in through the gate, the setting struck me. There was a pond in front of the house, shaded by trees. As I looked, the sun broke from behind the clouds, turning the white flowers on the clematis silver. The house had a red tiled roof and windows that were too big for it, as if the builder had mistaken the proportions.
A Mr. Stacey let me in. There was no denying the light that poured in through the vast windows, and my heart began to quicken as he escorted me through the rooms. There was ample accommodation, and I sketched out a plan in my mind. This could be a bedroom for Clive, this a study for Maynard; there were rooms for Duncan and the children, a studio for myself. A side door led to the garden proper. Here marigolds, poppies, foxgloves, and cornflowers grew in wild profusion. I seemed to hear the carefree shouts of the children playing among them. I imagined Duncan painting on the terrace, guests strolling about the lawn. In the center of it all, I saw myself, vital, enabling, beloved. I made up my mind. I turned to Mr. Stacey and informed him that I would take the house on a long lease.
7
I WIPE MY BROW WITH MY HAND AND LEAN BACK ON my haunches. The earth is warm to my touch. I look up and see clouds chasing each other against the blue. I try to trace the mythical beasts and castles I glimpsed in them as a child. I pick up my runner beans and gently ease the young seedlings from their tray. I place them in the holes I have prepared, packing the soil over the roots. Their delicate tendrils shiver in the air. Soon they will curl round the sticks I have planted and pull themselves up toward the light.