The Garden on Holly Street Part Three

by Megan Attley

Genres: Women's Fiction

Synopsis

As summer sets in, things heat up for the residents of Willow Court in the final part of this heart-warming series. Ernie and Abby are left reeling after the shocking news about Arthur. Struggling to cope with everything that has happened, Abby turns to the beautiful and kind gardener, Jason. She knows they can't be together - it's too risky given the tragic pasts they both share - but she can't help feeling drawn to him, like he might be the answer to the most important question. After the news about Arthur, Ernie's father, Neil, is spending more time at home when he notices his boy retreating into himself. But this seems to go deeper than sadness for his (somewhat unlikely) friend - Ernie seems to have the weight of the world on his shoulders and he is behaving in a very un-Ernie-like way. But how can Neil help his son if they can't talk to each other? As the garden begins to bloom and take shape, the boundaries between neighbours fall away. They become bound to together by what they have built - but will Arthur survive? And how will his new family cope if he doesn't? Fans of Cathy Bramley, Holly Hepburn, Heidi Swain and Kirsty Greenwood will love The Garden on Holly Street.

Release date: May 16, 2019

Publisher: Orion

Print pages: 96

Sample

Abby stared at the mug on the table in front of her. It was still full. How long had it been there? Gav had made her a coffee before he’d left, and she’d been so lost in her thoughts that she’d forgotten to drink it. She kept picturing poor Mr Mayer over and over again; lying there on the floor, so helpless, cold and grey… His mouth gaping open.

Had it been Abby’s fault? Had she made him so angry that he’d suffered a stroke?

When she’d phoned for an ambulance, she’d been in shock and had struggled to answer the most basic questions about Mr Mayer’s condition, and by the time she found the words, he’d regained consciousness. Abby had been instructed to check Mr Mayer for facial weakness, arm weakness and speech problems. He’d been unable to smile; only able to lift his arms briefly and not very high, and he hadn’t been able to reply to her questions. A tear had trickled down his cheek as they ran through the assessment and Abby had wished in that moment that she could change how she had acted in the last few hours.

The ambulance had come quickly and after the paramedics had assessed Mr Mayer, they’d taken him straight to the hospital. They’d asked about next of kin, but Abby hadn’t known of anyone to call. When she’d asked Ernie if he knew whether Mr Mayer had any children, Ernie had mumbled something about a boy called George, but it hadn’t made any sense to Abby and she’d put it down to Ernie’s distress. Poor Ernie had wanted to go in the ambulance, but he was far too young for that, and Abby had felt torn between needing to stay and keep an eye on him until his dad came home, and wanting to make sure that Mr Mayer was all right. Gav had still been there, hanging around like a bad smell, doing nothing to help.

She’d watched as they’d wheeled Mr Mayer out of his flat, out of Willow Court and into the ambulance, then whisked him away, siren blaring in the early evening air. Once she’d taken Ernie back inside, she told Gav to take him up to her flat and to make him a drink while she checked that everything was off in Mr Mayer’s flat.

When she went back inside, a funny metallic smell made her rush to the kitchen where she found a pan of potatoes on the stove that had boiled dry. She turned the heat off and carried the pan to the sink then ran the tap over it. As the burnt pan hissed, and steam floated up into the air, it hit Abby that she was in her neighbour’s flat, alone, and that he’d just been rushed to hospital. What if he never came home again? She shook her head, hating the morbid direction of her thoughts, and tried to focus instead on the practicalities. She inspected the damage to the pan and saw that it was ruined, so there was no point trying to wash it. She left it in the sink then went to the oven and turned that off too. There was a pie inside, which she got out and left on the side to cool down.

It seemed that everything had happened so quickly – Mr Mayer had been snatched from his life in minutes. He’d been cooking dinner for him and Ernie, blissfully unaware that he would suffer what seemed to be a stroke, unaware that his life was about to change for ever. The pie sitting there on the side had made Abby’s stomach churn. One minute, Mr Mayer had been going about his life, the next, the pie that he was going to eat was abandoned. Forgotten. Life was so fragile, so precious, so… fleeting.

She’d taken a few deep breaths; the thought that life could end in an instant was too upsetting and too horrendous to entertain. It was clear that Ernie adored Mr Mayer and from what she’d seen, the feelings were mutual. She didn’t know much about her downstairs neighbour, but what she did know made her feel terribly sad. Life was difficult enough at her age, but he was elderly, he lived alone, had lost his wife and didn’t have any friends or relatives that she knew of. He must get dreadfully lonely at times.

After she’d checked the rest of the flat to ensure that everything was turned off, she was ready to leave when a thought struck her. Mr Mayer didn’t have a key with him, so perhaps she should take one now, or else he’d be unable to get back inside his own flat.

She looked in the bowl on a small dresser near the front door and found a key on a Manchester United key ring. The keyring was dated, the surface tarnished, and she suspected that the old man had had it for a very long time.

She tried the key in the lock to check it was for the front door, looked around the flat one last time then let herself out and climbed the stairs, slowly, giving herself time to prepare before she had to face Ernie again. The little boy would need a lot of support and reassurance, and Abby had to be in the right mindset to offer those things.

Gav and Ernie had been sitting at the kitchen table, as Gav prattled on about football and Ernie stared into space. It was clear that Gav felt extremely awkward. He’d asked to speak to Abby alone but she’d scowled at him and told him it would have to be later, so he left as soon as he could. That was the thing with Gav; he needed to be the centre of attention or he lost interest.

Abby had spouted some clichés to Ernie, hoping to soothe his angst, and he’d offered her a smile but it hadn’t reached his eyes. The young boy knew about loss – he’d lost his mother after all, when she left, and Abby could tell that he was worrying about losing Mr Mayer too. Running out of things to say, Abby took Ernie’s hand and they sat in silence for a while. Not long after, Ernie’s mobile had rung to let them know that his dad was almost home.

When Neil had walked through the door, the way Ernie ran to him and hugged him had brought tears to Abby’s eyes. Ernie needed his dad, and Abby had been a poor substitute, even though she had tried. A thought had flashed through her mind then; whether she’d have been able to comfort her own child, whether her little one would have looked at her the way that Ernie looked at his dad, and she’d hoped that would have been the case. If she’d been a mum…

Abby had given Neil a quick summary of events and he’d listened carefully then asked her to let him know of any developments as soon as she knew. He promised to return the favour if he heard first. They’d swapped numbers to ensure that they could be in contact when necessary. There were other things Abby would’ve liked to ask Neil; things about him and Ernie and the potential for the garden, but it didn’t feel like the right time to talk about these things with her neighbour who she barely knew. She’d also been afraid that she’d crumple if she stayed too long, that her own fears and distress would bubble over, and that was the last thing Ernie needed to see.

And now, Abby realised that her right hand was throbbing from clenching it around something. She opened it to reveal Mr Mayer’s key. She must have held on to it after she returned to her flat, not noticing that she’d been squeezing it tightly.

Dusk had fallen around her making the lounge shadowy. She got up and turned the lamp on then carried her mug to the kitchen and poured the cold coffee away. She placed Mr Mayer’s key in her bag.

Seeing this happen to Mr Mayer made her think about other elderly people in the area and the wider Manchester community. How did they cope if they fell? If they had no one visiting them, no one who cared? Mr Mayer was lucky in that he’d become friendly with Ernie and Neil, but if he hadn’t then Ernie wouldn’t have found him and he could have lain on the floor indefinitely. It was horrid to think that this was a reality for many people. It could happen to her too, of course. She might be younger than Arthur, but if anything happened to her, who would know? Her mum had passed away and she’d never known her dad; Gav had a whole new life and Lisa was often so busy. She knew Lisa would try to get hold of her regularly and that she’d become worried if Abby didn’t respond, but that could take days. Abby could be here, alone, stranded and the world would carry on oblivious. Life could be very lonely and frightening if you didn’t have anyone – and that would be so much harder when you were older.

Abby needed to do something for him. Tomorrow morning, she’d go down to Mr Mayer’s flat and check if he had an address book or something so she could let his friends and relatives know that he was in hospital. There was bound to be someone she could contact. Besides which, she wanted to get rid of the burnt saucepan and the pie, before they stank the flat out, and she’d empty his bins while she was there. At least then she’d feel as though she was doing something to help. Sitting here thinking about how lonely Mr Mayer must have been and how lonely she was wouldn’t help anyone. Being proactive was the best course of action to stop her dwelling and to ensure that Mr Mayer had someone around who cared. It might also help to assuage some of the terrible guilt she’d been feeling because of how she’d treated Mr Mayer in recent weeks. He’d seemed so angry and hostile, but there had evidently been more to it than that, and she, as a grown . . .