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Please would you go and collect the flowers sometime this morning. Before the gazebo comes.

They’re being delivered - this morning.

Are you certain?

I’m sure of it - I spoke to the gentleman yesterday. He said they’d be here by eleven.

Well, if you’re sure…

I am.

And the gazebo?

Coming around 11.

Then, terrific. Terrific. But please do something for me. Anything. I’m certain we’ll never get this house clean and ready for this evening.

Oh, we will. We always do. Don’t you worry about it - you always worry, and it always comes out fine in the end.

But it’s all such a terrible mess at the moment. Just look at the place.

It’s coming along nicely, dear.

Hm.

All in good time.

She thrust her arms round chest and surveyed the house around her with a look of worried contempt. She started to chew the inside of her mouth so that her lips became contorted. Would everything turn out OK? She had a vision in her mind of how she wanted the party to be, but would that vision come to light?

It’ll all be fine. Everything’s in hand. Now, what would you like me to do this morning?

Let’s see. Well. I didn’t think we’d have time - but now, maybe, since you don’t need to go and collect the flowers… maybe there is time enough to mow the lawn. It looks so awfully bedraggled. Really, we should be thinking of getting it redone. A whole new lawn. Maybe later this summer?

I’ll mow it right away.

Oh, perfect. Well, if you go and do that then.. then I’ll see how the others are getting on and make sure everything’s as it should be.

I’m sure it all will.

Thank you, darling. Thank you.

Yes, yes. I’ll be back shortly - it shouldn’t take too long to do.

Yes. Yes. But do make a job of it. Don’t rush around with the thing.

He smiled at his wife, nodded, and went out the house to the outbuilding where the lawn mower was kept. It was early in the morning but the sun was shining and the sky was empty and blue. A few moments later, the familiar chug of the petrol motor was whirring away, and, hearing this, she breathed a sigh of relief.

The lawn really did need seeing to, she thought. But that would have to be a job for another day. Better to focus on the day ahead. It was sure to be a dismal affair, anyway, whatever the state the lawn was in. But at least it was being cut and would look a little smarter than before. They would need to set tables and chairs outside - but they could do that in the afternoon. The gazebo was being delivered and erected sometime after 11, so there would be plenty of time.

She looked out the large window that overlooked the square garden and tried to ease the tension. She shook a couple of pills from a little container which she always kept in her breast pocket and swallowed them. The lawn really did need seeing to by a professional. It just wouldn’t do to have it like that for another season. And how awful that the roses hadn’t come up like last year.

There was somebody at the door. She rushed down the stairs and opened the front doors and was met with the catering staff.

I’m so sorry to have kept you. I was upstairs, you see.

That’s no problem. We’ve only just knocked.

She was dazzled by the bright light that was shining off the white stone driveway and held her palm to her eyes so she could more clearly see who it was she talking to.

Follow me, she smiled, then led the way towards the kitchen.

The man smiled back and followed her in. She could hear one of his staff closing a door and their footsteps on the stone driveway crunching. Sliding doors being opened.

On the way to the kitchen she noticed that the lawn motor had stopped its whirring.

Here it is. Everything is as it was last time, she signalled to the man.

Lovely. And the menu? As agreed? Or do you have anything in mind you’d like to change?

Oh. Yes. Now you mention it. I would love a citrus granita for later. It’s going to be ever so hot, and a granita this evening would go down so well, I think. Could you manage? It’s not too late is it? Have you the things for it, because if not…

Perfect. We can manage, thank you. Enough for everyone?

Yes, I should think so.

Okie-dokie. That’s no problem.

At this moment, one of his staff - a young boy, tall, with wavy brown hair and blue eyes to match the sky - appeared in the kitchen.

Hello dear, she said to him.

Hello.

We’re going to do a granita, lad. So do us a favour, take the car and go and get a few kilos of citrus fruits - whatever looks good.

Sugar?

We’ve got plenty here.

OK.

The man threw a set of car keys to the boy and he caught them with one hand, turned, smiled to the lady, and left.

As the boy left, she heard the put-putting of the lawn mower spinning into action again. But after a few moments of sputtering, the engine died.

Trouble out there?

I hope not, she said. Have you all you need?

Yes, we’ll be fine. You can get on and leave us to it, now.

The man smiled at her and began to make his way back towards the front of the house.

We’ll get all the produce in here and make a start.

That would be fantastic. Thank you ever so much. And if you need me -

We know - we’ll find you straight away and ask. Don’t worry, we’ll be alright, dear.

She tried to smile at the man, but her eyes betrayed a rising sense of anxiety. Now that the day had begun there was no stopping the party from happening. All these disparate forces would come together as if by some kind of magic, and by this evening, the party would be a living thing. But it all looked so distant right now to her.

The kitchen door that led to the garden swung open.

The engine’s gone.

Oh - oh dear! That’s just our luck. But did you manage to finish the lawn before it dropped?

I’m sorry dear, not quite. It’s half cut.

Oh that is wretched news. I bet it looks a state. Let me see it.

He turned and led the way to the garden.

Good heavens. What a mess. Is there no way you can fix it dear, get it going again?

I’ll have a try, dear, but I can’t promise much.

It looks awfully silly as it is, only being half cut. Is there nothing else we could do?

I’ll have a tinker, and if not, I’ll speak to Nigel.

Please do.

The trees rustled overhead as she walked round to the small courtyard just off the garden where she had sown some plants earlier in the year. She heard her husband pulling the chain several times, trying to get it going again. Why did these things always happen to her? And why hadn’t the tomatoes ripened yet? They looked healthy enough - but they were all still so terribly green. Had she not watered them enough? Or perhaps she had given them too much water. She tried to think of what her grandmother would say to her. If only she were here now, she thought to herself, she would be able to say when they would be ready, when they would ripen, when they would fall from the little branches with the slightest of pulls. She touched the delicate leaves of the tomato plants with her finger tips and held them to her nose.

If only the lawn were fully cut. It will look so embarrassing. She would have to explain it to every guest that the mower had broken down halfway through. They would all try to have a laugh about it, but she couldn’t bear the thought of an evening like that. Goose-pimples suddenly rose across her bare arms and she noticed how cool it was. In the shade it would be even cooler - especially if the breeze picked up, and it was always that kind of breeze - so she made a mental note to collect blankets for later in the evening.

From the courtyard she heard the sound of a car pulling onto the driveway and rushed to open the side gate so she could see if it was the florist. But it was the boy, returning with the fruit for the granita. He got out the car and pulled a wooden pallet tray from the boot, full of the most beautiful looking citrus fruits.

She called out to the boy: thank you ever so much. They look so wonderful. Thank you for doing that.

He smiled a little awkwardly, unsure of himself, and walked into the house through the front door.

What a wretch, she was. Making him feel embarrassed like that. She should have just left him to it, poor boy. What good would the granita be in cold weather like this, anyway? It was a foolish suggestion to make to the caterer. No doubt they would be already bemoaning having to make a granita that no one would eat or enjoy on top of all their other jobs to do. She should go back and tell them not to do it, she thought. Better than that, she might as well go and tell them to pack up and go, that the party was to be cancelled.

And if the flowers didn’t come soon, she thought, well then the whole thing was sure to be washout. A half-cut lawn, no flowers, and now she was sure that the weather would turn and the breeze might even bring a little rain on. Even if the roads were busy, they should have been here by now. She ran her hand through the herbary that she had planted several years back, then held her fingers to her nose and inhaled deeply.

She didn’t notice that her husband had come into the courtyard behind her.

I thought you’d crept round here.

Shaken for a moment - and all thoughts of cancelling the thing put to one side - she shut the side gate and turned around to face her husband.

Could you run upstairs to the attic and get the blankets out, please?

Blankets? Look -

Yes. For if it’s cold later on. It can get awfully chilly in the evening. Especially in the shade. And what if the weather turns? Or the breeze picks up? You know what it’s like if the breeze picks up.

I don’t think it’s supposed to turn, dear. But look -

Yes, but what if it does? And someone wants a blanket to keep their legs warm?

Right you are, I’ll go up and get them, but before I go -

And after that, could you phone the florist and see when they’re coming. It’s getting late - I’m sure you said they’d be here by now. I’m worried they’ll be late arriving.

Yes, dear. I’ll get the blankets and then phone the florists. But before that -

And the gazebo’s due any minute.

Yes, yes. It’ll all be fine. Try not to worry. But dear, I was coming to find you to tell you that I’d got he mower going again. It just needed a little bit more petrol. I’ll give it a moment and then get back to it, have it done before the gazebo comes.

Oh? She paused for a moment. Oh that’s wonderful, how clever of you! I’m so glad. Maybe it won’t be such a washout after all!

He smiled at his wife, shaking his head.

Come here, you.

He embraced his wife and felt her smallness against his body.

Then he let her go, rubbing her bare shoulders and turned and left the courtyard, saying to her: you smell like those tomatoes!

She laughed at her silly husband, and at her silly self. Everything was going to be alright, after all. The lawn would be cut, the gazebo would come, the flowers would be here in good time to decorate the house, the food would be exquisite, and the granita would be an inspired success. The breeze would die off, the rain wouldn’t come, and the sun would shine gently late into the evening, casting beautiful long shadows across the fresh cut green grass.

The men with the gazebo arrived just before lunch time - a little later than they had said, but, at least it had arrived. They came through the side gate and onto the lawn where she showed them where she wanted it to be. Then she left them to it and went into the house.

Have the flowers arrived yet?

Not yet. Here, he said, I’ve got the blankets.

Oh.

Where shall we keep them?

Hm?

The blankets?

Why haven’t they come yet?

She was distracted, looking out the window onto the garden where the two men were busy bringing through the deconstructed parts of the gazebo. There was a clatter of cutlery falling to the wooden floor behind them. The boy had just let slide an array of knives, forks and spoons and sent them to the floor with an awful clamour. He bent down onto his knees and began to pick up the items and return them to his tray.

But what about the flowers?

The boy twisted his head round, hearing her voice. She was looking absently towards him, and when he saw her, and that she was looking straight at him, he jerked his head back round and collected that last few pieces of cutlery back onto the tray.

I’ll telephone the florists now. But the blankets?

His voice shook her from her absence and redirected her gaze to him.

Oh - just leave them here. And yes. Please do phone them.

She smiled.

I’ll do it now.

Thank you.

And she turned to look back out of the window, where the two men had disappeared, leaving their mess of tools and gazebo parts on the lawn. She turned and walked from the kitchen to the hall where she could hear her husband on the telephone. She could smell the loaves of bread being baked and the smell was drifting through the corridors of the house and made her smile.

Yes. I see.

The husband was looking as he always did: a modest cheerfulness drawn across his happy face. She drew closer to him but could not hear the other end of the conversation, only his short responses. She crossed her arms and chewed the inside of her lips and wondered where on earth they could have got to. If they weren’t delivered soon, there would be little time to dress the house properly.

Yes. I see. Yes.

A sudden bang of the oven door being shut made her twist round. Down the narrow corridor, she saw the cook and the boy shuffling around with the baked loaves, the outline of the scene cut out by the empty door frame that led into the kitchen.

There’s been a mistake with the order. They thought that we were picking up the flowers.

Oh, how terrible! Is there no way -

No - there’s no one their to deliver them, unfortunately. Not for this afternoon, at least.

Then how -

We’ll need to go and collect them.

There was a knock at the door that interrupted their conversation. Thoughts of flowers drifted away for a brief moment as he went further down the hallway to answer the knocking. The door opened and she could see a fulsome brown paper bag being given to him by someone. He shut the door and came back towards her.

The bread we ordered, he said, showing her the bag.

Oh? But I thought the caterer’s were taking care of the bread. I think they’ve just baked some loaves.

Ah.

I’m sure of it. Didn’t we say that’s what we’d do, instead of getting a delivery from Warhurst’s? Didn’t you cancel it?

My mistake - I didn’t, no.

Oh, well. It’s here now. And it does smell delicious, here, let me take it through and deal with it.

Yes, sorry, dear. Here you go.

Not to worry.

And the flowers?

Oh, yes. Hmm.

They followed each other to the kitchen again where she left the brown paper bag on the table and poured herself a small cup of coffee into her morning cup. Taking a sip, she noticed how cold it had grown and grimaced.

Gone cold?

Yes.

The flowers, then?

Well we’ll just have to go and get them, I suppose.

She put her cup down onto the saucer.

I’m not sure we’d be able to fit everything into our motor, though. It’d maybe take a couple of visits.

Really?

I’m not sure, I’m not sure. But, in any case, I couldn’t go either way. I have a few calls to take soon.

He looked at his watch to check the time.

Very soon, in fact.

But how can we - how will we get the flowers?

Get him to take you down! He’s been as much use as a soup spoon this morning.

The pair of them turned around to see the cook looking back at them, pointing to the boy who was looking sheepish, his dark eyes darting from the floor to the man and the woman and back again to the floor, unwilling to maintain eye contact.

There we go, he said. Problem solved! Now, I really must go and take these calls.

He rushed off and left the three of them there in the kitchen. Outside, the gazebo had begun to be hoisted up into place. She turned to look at the boy.

Would you mind, dear? It would be most useful.

Course he doesn’t!

She smiled nervously at the cook, and then at the boy.

Well. Fine then, that’s settled. Let me get myself ready to go out. I won’t be long, dear.

She stepped to the boy, who nodded, and touched his arm which felt strong with youth.

It really is good of you.

She smiled at him and he looked back at her glittering blue eyes. This time, he was able to hold her gaze for a little longer and return a half-smile.

She walked off towards the hallway and turned to ascend the staircase. Below her, she heard hurried footsteps on the parquet floor and looked down to see the boy looking up at her. She stopped and stooped over the banister. She sensed his gaze on her and felt a sudden short shock of being the object of this young man’s youthful eye.

Yes?

I’ll be out in the van, waiting for you there.

OK, dear. I shan’t be long.

She heard the front door open and shut as she reached the top of the first flight of stairs.

The journey to the florists took twenty minutes. He drove with a steady seriousness, both hands on the wheel, guiding the van through the quiet lanes that grew busier as they reached the centre of town. She looked at him occasionally, but his gaze remained firmly on the road ahead, even though, she thought, that she sensed the he knew that she was looking at him. He parked outside the florists and they both got out of the car. He held the door open for her and she entered and made her way to the counter.

Ah yes. Ever so sorry for the mix up.

Oh, it’s no bother. Is this ours to take, is it?

Yes, yes. Here.

The boy came up from behind her.

Can you manage?

Without saying a word, he collected the stack of trays with flowers and carried them out to the van. He was back in a moment to pick up more. He came back once more and picked a further bundle, leaving a few small bouquets.

I’ll bring these through, dear. And then that’s us done. Thank you.

At the van’s side door she held the bouquets out to him and he took them and placed them neatly onto the floor. She felt his finger tips brush against the back of her hand as he took the flowers from her and the brief moment of connection seemed to pause time for a moment. They looked at each other, and she saw him swallow, his large Adam’s Apple, bobbing up and down. It was gone in an instant, though. And then the door was slid shut with a slam and he was getting back into the driver side.

Back inside, she sat for a moment, her hands on her lap, wondering what to do.

Is there anywhere else you would like me to take you, Ma’am?

His words woke her from her daze.

Oh - oh no need to call me that, dear. Please - call me Eleanor.

She smiled at him.

No - no I don’t think there’s any place else we need to get to. It was just the flowers, you see. We thought they were going to be delivered - all a big mix up.

She looked out ahead at the high street, of the few people coming and going into and out of shops. The baker and butcher, the boys on bicycles, the walking girls, the school children holding hands.

Shall we go then?

He had turned to ask her, and sensing that he was now finally looking at her, she too turned to meet his gaze. She hadn’t put her seatbelt on, and she was hoping that he would say something, so she could delay the moment into eternity.

Hm?

Your seatbelt, Ma’am?

Oh - yes - I see. And please…. Just call me Eleanor. There’s really no need for Ma’am.

But though she had acknowledged that she understood that he was waiting for her to do her seatbelt, she let the moment linger. She looked down and then up again at his eyes: so full of youth and energy. She envied the years ahead he had, the years that she would not see. She looked down at his lap and was overcome with a desire. She moved her right palm gently onto his lap, then looked into his eyes. Her touch was like a shock to him, and the sensation made him jerk away, so that her palm was no longer resting there, but hanging in the air. She sighed and closed her eyes - the moment had gone and she had made a fool of herself.

I’m so sorry, dear. Take me back home now. I’m so sorry I did that to you.

He swallowed deeply again, then started the car.

They arrived back onto the driveway as the men who had come to erect the gazebo were getting into their van to leave. She saw her husband at the side gate, waving them away, then waving to them as they pulled into the driveway. He walked towards the van and, as it stopped, pulled the side door open and lifted one of the trays out.

Hello.

She couldn’t bear to look at him.

The boy was already at the front door with a tray by the time she had gotten out of the passenger seat and closed the door. He was there waiting for her, gravel crunching underfoot. She followed him in, empty handed, into the house.

Can you get someone to arrange them all for me? I need a lie down.

Are you feeling alright?

Yes. I just need to lie down.

OK. Well. Yes, I’ll get Maud to sort it out.

Hm.

Are you sure you’re all right? Can I -

Yes. I just need a rest.

OK.

He stood still, looking confused as she walked past him and up the stairs. But then Maud appeared and things that had to be done took over.

She walked up the staircase and heard Maud talking to her husband in her quiet voice. She paused to listen once she had got to the landing, hidden from their view. But she couldn’t hear anything. Only the indistinct mumblings of a conversation far-off. So she continued to her room, opened the heavy door and pushed it to close. The window was open and the sash curtains were fluttering in the breeze. She went over and felt the coolness and it was good and pleasant. She looked down onto the lawn at the back and saw the newly erected gazebo on the fresh cut grass. In a few hours the party guests would be here and everything would be forgotten for a few hours. She closed the window and sat on the edge of the bed and began to sob. She lay on her side and closed her eyes and willed herself to fall asleep.

Several hours passed. The sunlight was on her and was warm and comforting. She rose and felt heavy with tiredness, but eager for fresh air and thirsty for water. She opened the window and now there was no breeze and the sun was looking hot and full in the blue sky beating down on the lawn, the white-top of the gazebo blinding in the blaze of the sun’s rays. The room had a stale smell and opening the windows did little to alleviate the humidity. She went to the sink and let the cold water run a moment, then tossed a little over her face, and round the back of her neck. She let her clothes fall off her where she stood and walked to her wardrobe. If the boy were to look up right now from the garden, he might be able to see me. It revolted her - the idea that her mind was so quick to gravitate towards him after her rest. She threw the thought from her mind as a discarded rag and rummaged through her wardrobe for something to wear for the party. She put her clothes on and sprayed herself with perfume.

Downstairs, Maud had decorated the house with the flowers so that everything looked perfectly dressed for the party to start. She had done a good job and she was happy with how it all looked. He heard voices in the kitchen, the hum of the oven.

There you are.

It was him.

I was just about to come and wake you up.

She smiled at him.

Yes.

They’ll be here any moment.

He rubbed her shoulders and kissed her right cheek.

In fact, he swivelled his head to the front door, the undeniable sound of slow moving wheels crunching across the gravel, the low hum of the motor.

In fact, I think there’s the first.

Yes, she said, smiling at him as he looked out and walked towards the front door. Yes, she said, I think so too.

He turned to her and held out his hand, and with his other, opened the front door. She took hold of it and moved towards him. And they both stepped out and stood together at the front of the house, standing on the beige gravel, ready to welcome the guests to the party.