The Gardener of Aria Manor Read online

  Janie knelt down and eyed it closely. She reached out with a stick and poked at the ragged clothing. It hung off the bones like the decaying canvas of a ghost ship. She had seen such skeletons in the recesses of New York’s abandoned tunnels. They were homeless people who had tried to keep warm by staying near the steam heat. Some found their way through tunnels the same way she and Frank had when they were kids, by slipping unnoticed down manholes.

  “Yeah,” she replied, disturbed. “It’s something, all right.”

  “I suppose he was here looking for lost treasure and died before finding it,” Ilene murmured wistfully. “We never found any either.”

  Janie kept her thoughts to herself. After school visits to museums when she was a kid, she knew enough to tell the difference between modern day remains and those of a hundred-year old Iroquois Indian. Such curiosities had always held a sense of interest for her. With this skeleton, Janie felt an inexplicable tug of intuition, not a feeling she could easily ignore. Such that left a residual inclination of something unresolved. Almost as if it were a scent from a memory of long ago that left no visual remembrance of. She had a feeling that the skeleton wasn’t as old as Ilene thought it was. She decided she would return someday soon, alone.

  BACK ON THE beach, they sat on a brightly woven yellow blanket Ilene had laid out, and ate fresh tangerines and smoked salmon sandwiches.

  “Oh, bother,” Ilene protested, scrounging through the basket. “I picked up the wine, but I forgot the bloody glasses.”

  “We could always use the oyster shell I found buried in my foot.” Janie reached out for the wine bottle. “Here, let me see.”

  Ilene coughed to cover a laugh as Janie popped the cork and tipped the bottle to her lips. “That’s absolutely barbaric. A lady should never be seen tipping a bottle.”

  Janie was amused by the title being accorded to her. “I never said I was a lady. Besides, who’s watching?” She shoved the bottle back into Ilene’s hand. “Go on,” urged Janie. “Be daring. Rules for women were invented by men, you know.”

  “Such a Victorian prospect. Conceited men bent on maintaining conformity of women, like little sheep to the flock.”

  “We in America call that politics.”

  Ilene snickered and eyed the bottle. Pondering, she asked, “Do you really hate men all that much?”

  “No. I don’t hate men. I just haven’t found anything about them I like.”

  Amused, Ilene agreed. “I guess they are a bit...inflated.”

  “I think it was Anna who said lovingly, ‘They’re all a bunch of cock-a-hoops’.”

  Ilene choked on her hearty swig of wine, and her spirited laughter chimed through the lagoon. At long last, Janie could tell Ilene was beginning to relax.

  Later the two sat beneath the setting sun and its purple and melon sky, empty bottle at their feet. Janie looked at the encroaching tide. “I guess we’d better get back.”

  Ilene tucked her knees up against her chest and wrapped her arms around her legs. She stared longingly out to sea as if Janie hadn’t spoken. Yet her face was not drawn in melancholy as it had been in the past. It was a face filled with contentment. She inhaled deeply of the dusk winds, and a smile crept onto her lips.

  “Do you miss America, Carolyn?”

  Janie had been admiring Ilene’s beautiful profile. She had not noticed the fading of color from the horizon as the orange ball descended. “I’m starting not to.”

  Chapter Five

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  THE SUMMER MONTHS were more beautiful than Janie had anticipated. She actually enjoyed rising at dawn. She encouraged Ilene to play music for her as she worked in the gardens below. Janie had moved the piano next to the tall, open windows so Ilene could see the new blooms on the water lilies in the pond as she played.

  Anna’s vegetable and herb gardens grew profusely, keeping Liz quite busy, though she always found ample time to snuggle with Janie’s youngest yard hand, Michael. Janie could tell the two were in love. In fact, Liz had a birthday in August. So, she waited for the Major to be out of town and signed them off for a weekend together. She bought them rail tickets and booked a suite in London, and even gave Michael a little extra money to treat Liz to a memorable birthday. Liz was still glowing when they returned. Several weeks later, Janie found out why.

  Janie sat on the end of her bed, her head in her hands. Liz and Michael stood before her apprehensively, aware of how tenuous their circumstance was.

  “I can’t keep the baby,” Liz fretted. “The Missus will fire me for sure.”

  Janie drew an exasperated breath and ran a hand over her face. “I told you guys to have fun, but...”

  “What are we to do now?”

  “It’s a bit late to think of that now, isn’t it, Liz?” Janie stood and paced. “It’s not Ilene you have to worry about, it’s the Major.”

  Michael’s shoulders slumped as he crimped his hat brim in his sweaty palms. “I know I’ll lose my job.”

  “Wait. Wait,” Janie urged. “There’s got to be a way to tell him. Right?”

  “YOU’RE WHAT?” THE Major shouted.

  The three had bearded the Major in his library. Liz began to shake as the Major crumpled his newspaper in his white knuckled fist.

  “Young man, how could you have been so irresponsible?”

  Janie pushed Liz toward the door. “Liz, I think you ought to step outside the room for just a minute.” Liz threw her a wary glance, but complied at her insistent nod. Janie closed the door behind Liz, then walked over to stand beside Michael.

  “Well, what have you to say for yourself?” The Major was fuming.

  “Denys,” Janie interjected calmly. “He’s admitted his irresponsibility. Now he’s come to you to accept responsibility for his actions.”

  “Is that so?”

  “Yes, sir,” Michael replied at once.

  “And just how do you plan on rectifying the situation, hmm?”

  Janie eyed both men, then answered for Michael. “He’s going to marry Liz.”

  Michael turned to Janie, terrified.

  The Major stepped close to Michael, meeting him eye to eye. “Are you?”

  Michael looked to Janie’s slight nod, cleared his throat and made a nervous attempt to speak. His mouth refused to issue a single word, so he quickly bobbed his head in agreement.

  The Major raised a dubious eyebrow. He clasped hands behind him and began to pace about. “Do you honestly believe I’m going to keep Liz in my employment?” He did not wait for an answer. “There is much to tend to with a baby. How can she be a good mother and a good servant?”

  “If they, as a couple, are allowed to stay on the property, I’m sure they will work hard to manage both,” Janie interceded.

  “And how do you propose they do that? They’re not going to stay in a servant’s room. There certainly isn’t enough space.”

  “So, we’ll build them a small apartment in the stable loft.”

  The Major stopped and cast a glance over his shoulder at Janie. Looking back into the licking flames in the fireplace, he snorted. “Preposterous.”

  Michael looked at Janie helplessly, and Janie added, “He’ll pay you a fee, a rent, if you like.”

  “And how is he going to afford that?”

  “I’ll pay it,” she answered evenly. “For now.”

  The Major spun about. “Leave us, Michael,” he said firmly.

  Michael looked to Janie for reassurance before stepping quietly out into the hall.

  “You have piqued my curiosity. Tell me,” the Major said patiently, “why, in God’s name, you are so concerned about the welfare of those two.”

  “Because they both are good workers. For practical purposes, I need his help. Autumn is coming, and I can’t be waiting around for you to hire replacements. Secondly, this is the only job Liz has ever had and this is the only family she’s ever known. For God’s sake, Denys, give them a break, will you? I’m sure so
metime in your young life someone had to have given you a second chance.”

  “I have never had anyone give me a break. I’ve had to work for everything I’ve gotten.”

  “Well, all the more reason to do it, right?” His reply was a scowl. She sighed deeply and eyed the painting of Odysseus on the ceiling. “Besides, I don’t think you’ve ever had to worry about having a roof over your head.”

  A short while later, Janie stepped out into the hall and immediately found herself with Liz on one side and Michael on the other.

  Liz meekly pulled on Janie’s sleeve. “Well, what did ’e say?”

  “Don’t worry. You both can stay.”

  Liz squealed blissfully and embraced her. “Oh, Carolyn! Thank you! Thank you!”

  Janie no sooner pulled away from Liz than Michael drew close to hug her as well. She was stunned at his display of emotion.

  Stepping back, he composed himself with a clearing of his throat. “I don’t know how to ever thank you.”

  Janie looked at them both sternly. “Get married.”

  So it was that in a week’s time, Aria Manor was given the afternoon off as all were in attendance. The happy young couple was married in a little stone church by a very small vicar whose dimples were as round as his belly. After the ceremony, rice was tossed and all of the townspeople followed the bride and groom down the steep cobbled street to the Scarlet Lion for refreshments.

  IT WAS A beautiful fall day, and the Major and Ilene took Janie down the slope of the property to the large pond where the willow gently draped its branches atop the still waters. The Major set up a picnic along the grassy bank as Ilene and Janie went for a walk.

  As they strolled around the pond, Ilene recounted the history of the hidden grotto behind the small Greek temple that overlooked the pond in peaceful reflection.

  “I suppose you haven’t many grottos in America.”

  “Come to think of it, you’re probably right.”

  “Here in England, we have them everywhere, almost as many grottos as castles, I would think.”

  “For scaring little children?”

  Ilene made a face. “I’m not sure, really.”

  The Major called out to them from the water’s edge, “I haven’t been down here in years. Your mother and I used to entertain at the pond quite often.” Seeing he had their attention, he continued. “Do you remember I used to bring you here on picnics when you were a little girl?”

  Ilene smiled at the memory. “Of course I do.” She stopped before a weathered little rowboat that rested among the rushes. Its red paint stripe was almost worn off, but the boat seemed intact. “Is this the same boat we used?” she asked her father.

  The Major squinted at its distant profile before he nodded. “I suppose so. Yes.”

  Turning to Janie, Ilene asked, “Can you row?”

  “I’m pretty sure I can figure it out.”

  Janie dipped the oars into the cool water, and the boat cleaved through with little effort.

  “Do you remember how we used to read poetry, Father?” Ilene called to the shore where the Major sat on the blanket, his stiff leg stretched out and an elbow resting on the other knee, steadying the wine glass as he poured.

  Eyeing the sparkle of the wine as it flowed from bottle to glass, he said, “You became quite good at it. However, you must forgive me, my darling, I didn’t bring any poetry today.”

  “Then we shall remember as best we can. Or make it up as we go along.”

  “Splendid idea.” The Major sipped the crisp wine. “Let’s see now. I do seem to recall how to do this.” He cleared his throat and began. “Gracious, fair weather my ladies. Where crows do caw, and with colors do their newly awakened nature flourish. This fall day, a day to...nourish,” he stuttered. “As seeds sail upon breezes most conceived with play, surrounding us in joviality and their expectant passion mightily gay. Do not tarry, but take heed, such destinies do fly in spectacular feats. Upon the dewy grass is where they lay, to nestle in soil and demand a sun’s ray. Someday, someday, their budding branches bloom, and begin again with seeds to sail under the moon.”

  He bowed his head in acknowledgment of their cheers and applause

  Bartley approached. “Excuse me, Sir,” Bartley said. “You have a visitor.”

  The Major seemed sincerely disappointed by the interruption. “Can’t it wait a while, Bartley?”

  Bartley replied softly, “Sir, I believe you ought to come. It’s most important.”

  The Major sighed deeply and eyed the boat that was returning to shore. “Oh, all right. I’ll be right there.”

  Ilene frowned as her father pulled himself to his feet. “You’re not leaving?”

  He drew the boat close enough to hand both women a glass of wine. “That’s all right. Continue enjoying yourselves. I shall return shortly.”

  “Do you have to go right now?”

  He smiled and placed a foot on the boat, shoving them back out on to the water. “Continue, ladies.”

  Ilene pouted. “Well, all right. But you’re going to miss the best poetry.”

  “Remember it and tell me later,” he called back.

  “And we were just getting started.” Ilene sighed and sipped her wine.

  “So...go on,” Janie said, rowing them about the pond.

  “Oh, you go first.”

  “Me? You’re supposed to be the poet.”

  Ilene clicked her tongue and pouted. “You’re not going to disappoint me, are you?”

  Janie scowled at the water, until she spied a white duck feather. After a moment, she reached into the water and snagged the feather as she began her impromptu poem. “’Neath the lapping wave, we seek a subtle angel’s wing. A courier this thing; what message it brings: Of king, of knight, of mischievous flight.”

  Intrigued, Ilene nudged her. “Go on.”

  “A knight who calls to beauty’s delight a maiden’s blush, a smile, a touch. Tell me, maiden. What can I bring to thee? Perhaps, a minstrel who sings of love and lingering beauty. One sleeps...and dreams...and with morning dew awakens sweet.”

  Ilene was enchanted by Janie’s attempt. “Go on.”

  “’Tis but a little thing of maiden’s breast ne’er to weep when desire is as breath, still, and ever yet trembling to believe. Yet, forever doth this knight seek to be his maiden’s king...and she his angel, his peace.”

  Ilene reached out for the white feather which Janie offered with her final words. “That was beautiful,” she breathed.

  Janie shrugged it off lightly. “Eh, not bad for an amateur.”

  Ilene’s gaze drifted to the water; she held the feather close to her breast.

  “Your turn.”

  “I’m not sure I can top that,” Ilene protested.

  “Sure you can. You’re the professional here.”

  Ilene mused for a long moment, until a wren passed in flight and landed on a willow branch.

  “On airs, little bird, will you dance for me—like the woman from Belize?” she began. “Is that a song you sing for me? On moonlit nights, through your boughs of green, is that my shadow cast ’neath you, upon roots that cradle the moss and myrtle leaf?” She staggered to her feet, giggling as the boat rocked. “Dance... Woo!”

  Janie laughed at Ilene’s demonstration.

  “Dance on, gales; sigh, petals of blue, my morning glory in primrose hues, entwine my lover’s heart in your embrace if she is true.” They sobered and exchanged stares. “If true—thou art my love, aren’t you?—then be my lover, my lover, do.”

  Silence fell between them, but to Janie, Ilene’s eyes spoke novels. Ilene’s poem—perhaps by accident, perhaps not—had unlocked emotions Janie sensed she had kept hidden.

  Both shyly quiet, Janie and Ilene carried the blanket and picnic basket back to the house. Ilene froze at the sight of a set of tweed luggage in the foyer. Her breath caught as she ran a hand over the rough fabric.

  “Teddy?” she gasped with elation. A smile bloomed on her face and
she let out a whoop. “Teddy’s home!” She ran down the hall calling out his name like a little girl home from school. “Teddy! Teddy! Father, why didn’t you come and tell me Teddy was home?”

  The library door burst open at her assault and she pounced across the threshold, scarcely able to contain herself. What she saw stopped her in her tracks, and took her breath away. The sudden shock flooded through her like a rushing wave. Her brother Teddy, who had always been athletically fit, who had never had so much as chicken pox, now sat before her in a wheelchair. The Major stood near the fireplace, leaning heavily against his cane.

  “I’ll leave you to your private matter,” Janie whispered, having followed close behind Ilene.

  Ilene grasped hold of Janie’s arm. “No,” she said quickly. “Please. I want you to stay.”

  Ilene’s hand slid numbly to her side as she slowly crossed over to Teddy and knelt beside him. After a moment, she reached up and embraced his neck. “Oh, my little Teddy.”

  “Hello, Leeny.” Teddy held her close.

  “What’s happened to you?” she asked with a sob.

  He chuckled. “I’m afraid it’s a very long story. The short of it is, I can’t move my legs.”

  She drew back with a gasp. “Is it permanent?”

  He shrugged and drew her close again. “Now, now. Don’t you dare. I’m home now. I’ve come home.”

  Ilene cast a searching glance at her father. The Major stared into his glass as if the ice cubes were tea leaves that could foretell the future. Nothing in his posture gave her any reassurance. She knew then that Teddy’s condition was permanent.

  Teddy forced a weak smile. “It’s good to see you, Leeny,” he said brightly.

  Interpreting her father’s slight nod, Ilene knew it was up to her to compose herself, for Teddy’s sake. She drew in a deep breath and pulled her shoulders back. With shaking fingers, she grabbed hold of Teddy’s hands and tried to return his smile. “I’ve missed you.”

  “We have so much catching up to do.”