APRIL GARDEN

by Linda Hayman

A man stood outside the large white metal gates and stared at the sign. ‘Follyfoot Equestrian Centre’ it read. He was in his mid-fifties and his dark hair was heavily sprinkled with grey. He had a kind, pleasant face with large brown eyes. He felt slightly uneasy being there but he’d had some vivid dreams which had unsettled him and he knew he had to return.

He watched three young children in the yard underneath a tree, chatting excitedly while they were trying on riding hats to see which one fitted them best. He looked up at the tree and smiled to himself. If only they knew, he thought, they would make a wish and it would probably come true. The tree stood tall and proud with fresh leaves covering the rough, dark boughs. This was the only thing about Follyfoot that he truly recognised. Even with its new green jacket of leaves he knew its shape, the twisted boughs and the blackened trunk. Nobody back then gave the lightening tree any chance of survival, except Dora of course, she never gave up. He smiled again as he thought of her. Every day she would water it, talk to it, wish on it and dream underneath it. The first time it sprouted she wasn’t there because her uncle, the Colonel, was ill. But he had noticed it and kept the secret for when she returned, returned as the surprise owner of Follyfoot Farm. The smile left his face then as he remembered.

He was rudely awakened from his thoughts by a shout from a middle-aged woman on a very classy chestnut horse.

“Excuse me”, she said, rather abruptly he thought, “Can you move out of the way of the gate?”

“Certainly” he said cheerily, moving away but kindly opening the gate for her at the same time.

“Well done there”, she said, condescendingly, and rode off over the familiar tracks across the fields, which he knew so well. There was a time he would have deliberately stood his ground, blocking the gate, if he had been spoken to like that. But now he was older (and he hoped a little wiser) and he just smiled and let his eyes follow her until she disappeared over the horizon, then he turned back to close the gate and saw a young woman striding purposefully towards him, smiling. He put her in her late-twenties. She was short with shoulder length shiny dark hair, tied back into a pony tail. She wore jodhpurs and knee-high riding boots and her riding hat hung by its strap over her wrist.

“Hello”, she said in a friendly voice, “I’m Rosy, what can I do for you?” At first sight he thought her name suited her well. She was bouncy and bubbly and her face lit up when she smiled. He had a fleeting thought of somebody else.

“Nothing really,” he said, returning her smile, “I’ve come to reminisce. I used to know somebody who worked here ... a long time ago”, he added. She looked genuinely interested.

“Oh really. Perhaps you’d like to come in, I’ve just finished my riding class so I’ve plenty of time to show you around, if you like?”. He hesitated. He wasn’t sure he wanted to be shown around, especially from what he could already see. He felt a pang at having to be shown around a place he used to know with his eyes shut. For some reason he thought he would be looking at ruins, just him and his memories. He had convinced himself that Follyfoot Farm had long gone.

But who was he trying to kid? It was gone. This wasn’t the Follyfoot he knew all those years ago. The only place he had ever lived where he felt part of a family, where he was needed. The place that kept him ‘safe’. The place that seemed to understand him and loved him as much as he loved it. His home. No, this modern, up-market, all mod-cons equestrian centre wasn’t what he had been expecting at all.

“I didn’t think the place would still be standing,” he said, almost to himself, and then added “I’m glad you haven’t had the tree cut down.”

She pushed against the gate and walked through, standing in front of him, face to face. He could see her clearly now, the twinkle in her brown eyes and the shape of her full mouth.

“Mum will kill me if anything happens to that tree. It’s her special tree. Magic you know.” She said it with a laugh and a hint of sarcasm in her voice.

But her words pierced him like a dagger. He froze, fearing to move in case she disappeared, in case he was imagining the words he heard her say. Mum! Her special magic tree! Now he knew. It all made sense. He could see the resemblance; her smile, her pretty nose, even the way she was holding her head slightly tilted and those almond-shaped eyes. Everything about her was Dora.

“Are you OK?” Rosy asked, looking concerned and putting her hand on his arm, worried that he might fall.

“Sorry,” he said, “yes, I, I’m fine.”

But he wasn’t fine. He just wanted to be away, alone with his thoughts, staying in the past not meeting the future.

She frowned. She could see that something was wrong.

“Come and sit over here, I’ll get you a drink.”

“No, no it’s OK,” he said quickly (too quickly). “I have to go now anyway. Thanks for the offer”. And he turned and walked as fast as he could. He could feel her watching him so he quickened his pace even more. He didn’t stop until he knew he was out of her sight, then he sat down by the side of the road struggling with his emotions. He had come here because of a dream, convinced that he was doing the right thing, but now he felt unsure. His temper had cooled since his Follyfoot days when the arrogance of youth sometimes overtook him, so why was he feeling this way now? Was it anger he was feeling, jealousy, or was it regret?

After what seemed like hours but was only minutes, he heard the familiar rhythmic sound of a horse’s hooves on the road and looked up. There riding towards him was Rosy on a grey, stocky Welsh Cob. He stood up as she reached him.

“I was so worried, I had to come after you”. He smiled at her wearily,

“I’m OK, really”.

“Please will you come and see Follyfoot? I know it’s probably not what you expected but it’s still a lovely place, and we do a lot of good work. You’ll see.” She dismounted and looked at him imploringly, “please come back...” she searched his face for a name.

“Steve” he said.

“Steve” she repeated with a look on her face as though she already knew. Steve shook his head, oh mate, he thought, just like her mother. I couldn’t say no to her either. Then, with a brighter smile he said

“OK I’ll come” and they walked back to Follyfoot together, the three of them, Steve, Rosy and her pony.

One of the stable lads shouted across to them “Rosy, you’re wanted on the telephone.”

“OK, just coming.” she shouted back. “Sorry Steve, you’ll have to excuse me a while”. Steve was sure she had a smirk on her face as she ran across the main yard to the offices, looked around at him, waved and then disappeared inside.

They’d almost finished his tour and Steve was very impressed. He’d seen the riding school, the stud and the large indoor arena where the Riding for the Disabled held their sessions. Rosy told him how children from the inner cities came to Follyfoot for holidays, staying in the log cabins at the top end of the lake. These were children who had never seen the countryside or animals and who thought that milk and eggs came only from supermarkets. The centre was large and had many horses. Several of the stable lads were from the open prison a few miles away and they came to Follyfoot as part of their rehabilitation back into society. Steve shuddered - it seemed like a million years ago that he served his prison sentence. The old farm buildings had been extended, both outwards and upwards. New builds, like the offices, were scattered throughout the old refurbished ones. There were paddocks near the lake, which now had a small man-made island in the middle and a purpose-built pontoon with two old wooden rowing boats tied either side of it. Memories came flooding back to him. His treasured memories of halcyon days when, after all the work was done, he, Dora, Ron and Slugger lazed by that lake. Slugger fishing for their supper. Ron playing his guitar and trying to sing. Dora’s face when the Colonel presented her with Copper, her very own horse, at her lakeside birthday party. How her smile seemed to him to light up the evening sky. Steve closed his eyes and remembered as if it was yesterday.

When he opened his eyes again he saw somebody walking towards him, but it wasn’t Rosy. He stared at the figure, who had now stopped and was looking towards him. He knew her immediately. He felt the blood rush to his cheeks and his heart raced. She started walking again, slowly, and finally he moved forwards to meet her.

They stood facing each other in silence, although not an uneasy one. He could see the tears in the corners of her eyes, but she didn’t cry.

“Steve, oh Steve” she said gently. He smiled at her, just the way she remembered. His large brown eyes still melting her heart after all the years. “Dora”, he said simply, but with a passion that surprised her somewhat. They looked at each other, seeing but not really believing. Trying to take in all the changes the years had brought (although they had both worn very well).

“You look great Dora.” he said.

“So do you.” she replied. After another shorter silence, Dora said “I hear you’ve met my Rosy.”

“Yes. She’s lovely Dora.”

“Well she would be with me as her mother, wouldn’t she?” Dora laughed. Steve laughed with her and it felt so good. Then he was serious again. “And her father, is he”

“No!” Dora broke in. “She’s never known her dad - and nor have I for that matter.” She could see the look of disbelief in Steve’s face. “I’m not the naive girl you remember Steve.”

“Innocent Dora, you were innocent - I think I was the naive one.”

“Come on” she said suddenly, changing the mood with her excitement. “You haven’t seen the best yet.” Steve let her take his hand and lead him around the back of the indoor arena. They walked until they came to a wooden gate set in a high stone wall. It was the sort of gate that you wanted to go through to see what was hidden behind it. She lifted the latch and led him through, closing it again behind them. Steve looked around and took in the surroundings. They were in a lovely garden, where trees, shrubs and flowers of all kinds encircled them. His nose couldn’t fail to capture the scents of the spring blossoms. The noise of their feet on the gravel paths was the only sound except for the birdsong. Dora stopped by a bed of anemones and showed Steve the small engraved headstone. “Copper” he read aloud. They walked on and he noticed more stones, each with a name. Some he knew like Ladybird, Charlie, Marty, Kalinka and even his beloved Alex, but most he didn’t.

“A garden of remembrance?” he said at last.

“Yes, but not only that.” said Dora. “It’s my April garden.”

“Why April especially?” he asked.

“Because no matter how hard the winter I know it will come to an end and that there’ll be a fresh start and new beginnings,” She turned towards him, her eyes meeting his and her voice a bit shakier now. “and because it was April when you came back home the last time, remember?” she said softly. He looked at her and then looked away. He remembered more than she would ever know. “It’s April now Steve.” she said, and he turned to face her again. “And you’ve come home.”

There was so much he wanted to say to her but he didn’t know where to begin - yet before he could say anything she grabbed his hand again.

“I’ve got something else to show you.” She made her way down under an arch which, come June, would be covered with masses of scented pink roses. She stopped again and turned to him.

“Close your eyes”, she said “go on.” Steve was intrigued and closed his eyes as she led him further on.

“Now open them” she said at last. Steve slowly opened his eyes. Blinking to re-focus, but not believing what he saw. It was the old Follyfoot Farmhouse exactly as he remembered it. “I had it moved, stone by stone,” she said proudly. “It’s completely modern inside. I still live here - it’s my home.” she said. Steve heard the word ‘home’ and the same feeling that had come upon him at the roadside was back again - the regret of what he had forfeited all those years ago. Dora had dreamed a dream once upon a time and made it come true. She had achieved so much in her life without him. How much then might they have achieved together?

Dora squeezed his hand when she saw his troubled face.

“Look over there Steve?” she said quietly. Steve let his eyes follow to where she was pointing.

There were the old stables and above them the loft where he had slept. Steve’s mouth had gone dry now so that when he tried to speak, he couldn’t. He walked over to the door, taking in every bit of the large stone building that he never thought he’d see again. When he stepped inside it was as if the wooden stairs to his loft were calling him to climb them and he went up. There was no furniture now of course, only hay and old saddles and bridles hung around the walls, but to him it was still his ‘room’. Slugger had tried more than once to get him into the farmhouse but he loved it there in the loft. The thick stone walls kept him warm in the winter and cool in the summer. The comfortable smell of the hay and the almost silent noises of the horses for company. From the windows high above the yard he could see everything that was going on, with nobody noticing him. He’d often stood there and watched Dora when she didn’t know. He couldn’t have asked for more at that time.

Dora joined him and stood by his side letting her gaze follow his out of the window. “Where did it all go wrong Steve?” she asked sadly. He looked at her, not knowing quite how to answer. “I was such a bitch wasn’t I? I don’t know how you stayed as long as you did?”

“Don’t say that Dora.” Steve said. “We both said some awful things to each other those last few months. When I see what you’ve done here,” he continued “it’s beautiful - just like you. You’re beautiful on the inside too - you always have been. You saw beauty in everything back then, not like me.” “But it clouded my judgement Steve. That’s why I needed you, to bring me back down to earth. When I think back I feel so ashamed - I saw everything you did as interfering.” She looked at him as he turned around and leaned back against the window.

“Dora, I couldn’t have stayed. We argued so much I didn’t want us to end up hating each other. I didn’t want you to own Follyfoot. I was so jealous, so angry and mixed up. I knew it would change things.” She looked at him then. “I hated change too Dora.” He lowered his head when he remembered. Dora reached out, put her hand under his chin and lifted his head so that she could see his face. He looked so miserable that she thought her heart would break. “I’m so, so sorry” he said.

She put a finger across his lips “Don’t Steve, you’ve nothing to be sorry about”. He took her hand away from his face and held it tight. He wanted to hold her to him then and kiss her, but he knew it wasn’t the right time. “You’d just forgotten how to dream, that’s all.” Dora added.

The early evening was unseasonably warm and they stayed in the garden and talked for hours. About how her uncle, the Colonel, had suffered a stroke and died two years after Steve had left. The legacy he left Dora enabled her to build Follyfoot into the wonderful place it was now. About dear Slugger, who was like a grandfather to Dora, and who died of pneumonia three years after the Colonel. They spoke about Ron, who stayed and worked for Dora. Sadly Ron took Slugger’s death badly and never felt the same about Follyfoot afterwards. He moved abroad, working on a ranch in America the last she’d heard. They talked about Hazel and about Callie, who was married with three children and still kept in touch with Dora. They talked a lot about Rosy and, of course, they talked about the old horses and the fun times they had together.

Steve was glad they hadn’t talked about him. He knew that Dora would ask questions one day soon but he would cross that bridge when he came to it.

By the time they left the garden it was dusk and the horses were already bedded down for the night. They reached the lightening tree.

“Aren’t you going to pour your magic potion on it?” Steve said laughing.

“No I’m not,” said Dora defiantly “you are!” Steve looked aghast as she filled a bucket up from the water trough and handed it to him. He took it reluctantly. “Go on.” she said, nudging his arm. He poured the water around the bottom of the tree. “Now, make a wish.” insisted Dora.

Steve felt silly and looked around to see if anybody was watching. Oh, what the hell, he thought and put his hands on the trunk, closed his eyes and wished. Dora watched and smiled to herself - she was satisfied.

“Hey, won’t Rosy be wondering where you’ve got to?”

Dora shook her head, “No, she’s gone home, anyway she knows.”

Steve looked at her quizzically. “How do you mean she knows”.

“I told her you’d be coming - I didn’t know when but I knew you’d come. She knows all about you.”

Steve’s face was a picture as he slowly tried to work out their plan.

“So she’d guessed who I was before I told her my name?”

Dora nodded her head. “She’s been dying to meet you.” she said with a grin. “Well I hope I live up to her expectations” he said, laughing.

“Oh, you do” said Dora.

Then the penny dropped. “So there was no telephone call earlier?” he exclaimed.

Dora shook her head. “No Steve. She wanted to ‘suss you out’, to make sure you were OK! Her words, not mine.” Dora added quickly, trying to keep a straight face.

Steve laughed and shook his head. “I never did understand women! You must be very proud of her Dora?“

“Yes I am. You know, I never knew how much love I had to give until I had Rosy. I always remember you being so cross with me because I put horses before people, but having a child Steve makes you realise what is important in life.”

Steve nodded “It would do.” he said, but sadly remembering how his own mother had rejected him.

“I’ve a lot to thank you for Steve.” She suddenly said. Steve frowned at her, not understanding what she meant. “When I look back I can’t regret your leaving me because I changed, became a stronger person. I faced my fears - I had to without you. I grew up I suppose. You taught me so much about life, made me look at myself even though I didn’t always like what I saw. You helped make me the person I am today.” She looked lovingly at him. “Don’t you see Steve, you’re a part of all this because you’re part of me.” Steve was moved by the intensity of her words. He bowed his head. He knew then that she’d forgiven him. In those few words she had lifted a lifetime of guilt from him.

She touched his arm lightly, “Come and see my horses Steve”, she said. He looked up.

“More horses”, he said with a smile, “what a surprise!”

They went over into an older yard surrounded by stables.

“This is our Follyfoot Steve - the great unwanteds”. The horses lifted their heads over their doors as Dora and Steve approached.

“Your collection.” smiled Steve, smoothing the nose of one of the old ponies. “Yes” said Dora. “It’s still what Follyfoot is all about to me.”

“Me too.” Steve said fondly, as he wandered off to say hello to the other horses.

They walked back to the lightening tree hand in hand.

“I still can’t believe I’m here”, he said. “It’s like a dream.” Then he realised what he had said. “That is why I’m here Dora, I had dreams.”

“How do you mean?” she said.

“I dreamed you were in a dark pit reaching up to me but every time I tried to get to you I couldn’t reach you. Then you were falling and I could hear you calling me. Night after night I had the same dream. It really spooked me, I had to come back here to try and find you.”

He noticed that she had gone quiet and the colour had drained from her face. “I wished for you to come, on the lightening tree.” she said quietly. Steve looked worried as she continued. “I had a cancer scare. I found a lump in my breast. I couldn’t tell anybody, especially Rosy. I didn’t want to worry her. I didn’t know what to do, who to turn to. I just kept thinking of you, every minute of the day and night. Wondering where you were, what you were doing. Wishing I could see you standing at the gate. I needed you so badly Steve. Every night I went to the tree and I silently called you.” Dora put her hands on the lightening tree. "I was one of the lucky ones, it wasn’t malignant - but I was so frightened Steve, so frightened."

Her voice tailed off and she bowed her head. He knew she was crying. Steve turned her towards him, took her in his arms and held her tightly against his body. They didn’t speak - they didn’t need to. She was safe now with him.

Inside they felt no different to when they were teenagers all those years ago. It was as though nothing had changed... and yet everything had.

He let her cry and when the last of her tears were falling he lifted her face to him and wiped them away softly with his hand. She searched his face and he knew the time was right as he leaned towards her and kissed her gently on the mouth. Dora closed her eyes and felt herself responding. She had been waiting for this moment all of her life. At last he was hers, as she had always known he would be from the first moment she saw him. She had just had to wait until Steve was ready to love her back. He took his lips from hers and gently kissed her nose and then her lips again. He held her close and then came the words she had waited so long to hear “I love you.” They looked into each others eyes and her tears became tears of joy. She knew at last she was complete. “I love you too,” she whispered, “I always have and I always will.”

The moon rose over an open field and bathed Follyfoot in its subdued light. The lightening tree shone in all its glory in the place where wishes and dreams came true. Dora looked up at it.

“Don’t ever leave me again Steve.” she said.

“Never” he said “I’ve come home for good.”

Steve stood inside the large white metal gates and checked they were secure. He turned back and walked over to where Dora was waiting for him. He put his arm around her shoulders as he reached her and they walked together through the April garden towards the farmhouse. The deep love he felt for her at that moment seemed so natural to him, but it hadn’t been like that in the past and he couldn’t help thinking about the times he had put up his barrier. Dora had always loved him, he knew that, but he was frightened to love her back in case he lost her, like he always seemed to lose anybody he dared to love.

Now as they entered the door of the farmhouse and climbed the stairs to the bedroom he felt a sense of belonging he’d never known before. He had dreamed and wished and finally opened the door into Dora’s enchanted world. As they lay together in each others arms any fears he had of losing her were gone. There would be no more going back for either of them and whatever lay ahead they would share together.

The lightening tree stood tall and proud in the moonlight and its leaves whispered a love song in the gentle breeze.

The End.

(or is it the beginning?)