Secrets

A few days ago, Chris Snow-Warren called in briefly to hand over some lyrics. "Can't stop mate," he said, "Nigel is, at last, formally introducing us to his lady friend. Charity's doing a buffet."

"Ooh posh," I smiled. "Does that mean their liaisons are no longer secret? Is young Lisa okay with it?"

"I don't see why not. Tara's apparently very nice."

Chris's brother had been meeting with Tara Lapine-Frost for some time. Originally this had been work-related but romance had blossomed. They didn't publicise this as they had wanted see how their relationship would develop before revealing it to Nigel's daughter.

As Chris was leaving he almost bumped into Rowan and Figwort Ivory.

"Sorry Chris," said Rowan, giving him a friendly punch on the arm.

"Where's he rushing off to?" he said as Chris disappeared into the hallway. Seconds later we heard the front door close.

"A buffet for Tara Lapine-Frost," I said, wiggling my paws in what was supposed to be a humourous manner.

Rowan's head whirled between me and the door, his eyes round, his head furrowed. "Did you say... has she..." he breathed, barely coherently. Then, turning to leave the room he hurried out, pausing only to throw a parting instruction over his shoulder. "Figgy - stay with Jackson. I'll be back as soon as I can."

Then he was gone.

Figwort turned his wide eyes onto me but said nothing.

I was incredulous. What was Rowan thinking, abandoning his son? He had seemed... close to panic, but why? What could be so bad that he'd leave Figwort without warning? Figwort. He was the priority.

I sat on the coral settee and patted the seat to my side, inviting Figwort to sit. I needed to put him at his ease. That said, it was difficult to tell if he needed putting at his ease. The young rabbit was unreadable. Still...

"Figgy," I began, "Are you okay?"

He nodded.

"Your daddy says he'll try and return as soon as possible. If it gets a bit too long, I can take you home to your mummy..."

He sat down. "Mummy and Aster are out shopping," said Figgy in a level voice. Still no sign what he was feeling. And like an idiot I'd forgotten that that Angelica and Cecile were taking their daughters to get new dresses. In fact, I was on my own, the others from Butterglove House being either at work or at friends' houses. That meant neither Cecile nor Eliza were available to help me with Figwort Ivory.

"Of course they are. Uncle Jack is silly," I smiled. "Never mind. We can do something."

No reaction.

"We can get one of Brendan's board games if you like."

"If you want. I don't mind."

"We don't have to do that, though. What would you like to do?"

He appeared to consider briefly. "Not bothered. Anything."

"There must be something you like best?"

He shrugged.

I sighed. This was getting nowhere. It was putting all his previous behaviour into focus. This shy, quiet, polite boy, was seemingly happy to go along with any games Brendan, Orton or Lucky suggested but now I saw, underlying it all, Rowan's concern about his son appeared valid. Or at least it did before he virtually ran out of the door. And yet Figwort hadn't seemed concerned.

"Figgy," I said, "Has your daddy left you like this before?"

"No, but it's alright."

"Well, it's good to see you're being very grown up about it. Aren't you curious why he left so suddenly?"

"Oh, I know that. It's because of the Frosty lady."

o 0 O 0 o

I stared at him. "Your daddy knows Tara Lapine-Frost?"

"Yes. She's in one of his stories," Figwort began, then his hand shot to his mouth. "I shouldn't have said."

I leaned forward. It was the first proper emotion he'd shown.

"It's alright, Figgy. You're safe here. You can say what you want."

"Mm. I know. But it's a secret."

"Your daddy said?"

"And mummy. It's just family business, daddy says."

"Family?"

"Yes. Family."

Something told me that this was important. And maybe...

"Family. Mummies and daddies," I suggested.

"Yes."

"Brothers and sisters."

"Yes."

"And Auntie Cecile is your daddy's sister."

"Yes..." He seemed unsure where this was going.

"So she's your daddy's family too."

"I suppose so..."

"And she's used to your daddy's stories. After all, they grew up together."

"I don't know. This was when he was on his own."

"Before you were born?" I had a sudden insight. "Is it about the Land of Men?"

Figwort's mouth dropped open. "You... you know about that?"

I suppressed my elation. "Oh, yes. Well, some of it. Tunnels and stuff."

"Did... did he tell you?"

"Well, I'm family too. Uncle Jack, remember?"

It was gradual, but a smile grew on his young face until it was as wide as one of Brendan's specials. It was beautiful to see. As were the words that followed when he came to his feet.

"You're my family, then... Uncle Jack and Auntie Cecile. Family!"

He laughed. I'd never heard him do that before. I presumed he did so with his sister  since they were close, but never in public. This was some sort of breakthrough and I would have liked to enjoy the moment longer, but the mystery of Rowan's rapid exit still needed to be solved.

"Well, nephew," I said, savouring his giggle, "Is it okay for you to tell me how the 'Frosty Lady' fits into the story?"

His face became serious, but only for an instant before the smile returned. "Family?"

"Family."

"Well, okay then. She was the lady who brought him back to Sylvania."

o 0 O 0 o

I didn't quiz him further. I had sufficient information to grill Rowan later. I wanted the boy to relax, so we went to the kitchen and raided the biscuit barrel.

We played a strategy game using sugar cubes as game pieces.

I was forming a theory. With his family continually on the move, maybe Figwort found it impossible to form a lasting relationship with anyone outside his immediate family. His parents and sister were all he felt he could confide in. Rowan's secret stories reinforced that isolation. Maybe the boy realises now that his travelling life is over - now that he's settled in the village - and he has an extended family who are there for him. My efforts - and I'm not ashamed to say I'm proud of myself - might help him open up. I wondered if the others would see any difference in the boy.

When Cecile and Beverley returned from shopping - and there was still no sign of Rowan - Figwort and I listened to an account of their non-purchases without comment. Well, almost. I'd occasionally receive an amused glance from my nephew, and he would mouth the word, "Family".

And then, Rowan edged into the room, a sheepish expression on his face. I waited until the greetings were out of the way, then I excused us both, grabbing his arm to haul him back into the living room.

"What?" he said as I closed the door and ushered him along.

"Tara Lapine-Frost brought you back to Sylvania?"

"How did you..."

"Never mind that. Tell the story and explain to me why that was enough reason to dump your little boy and run out of the room."

"Oh, that's a bit strong."

"Tell me why it's excusable, as I can't see it at the moment. That poor little lad..."

"I knew he'd be safe..."

"Come on, Rowan. I was there. He was an afterthought at best. What scared you so much?"

"You now believe me about leaving Sylvania? Okay, okay. Calm down and I'll tell you."

I took a seat and breathed deeply. "Go on."

o 0 O 0 o

"We'd been in the Land of Men for about four months. The tribesmen were used to scavenging and gathering food, and the weather wasn't too severe so surviving wasn't an issue, provided we avoided the local dangers. Eventually, they discarded the plan to wait for someone to reopen the doorway to the tunnels.

I knew they still thought I was responsible for us being stranded there, and Felixor said that it was becoming less likely the doorway would reopen unless someone had his technical knowledge to 'fix what had been done.'

"At last, they decided to strike out to another doorway some miles away. They'd only waited so long because of me. However, they didn't think it would be safe for me to accompany them. They made other arrangements for me... "

"Okay Jack - I can see you want me to get to the point."

I fixed him with a stare (Cecile would have been proud) and he hurried on with his tale.

"Anyway, it was about three weeks or so later and I was checking the site where the doorway had been, and it had opened again."

"I approached, and a white bunny emerged."

It turned out to be Tara Lapine-Frost and she was surprised to see me. She hadn't known about me being stranded. She'd fixed the "portal", as she called it, as she needed to retrieve some plant samples for scientific work. She asked about me and as she went about her business I told her my story."

"Of course, I subsequently accompanied her back through the tunnels. As we chatted, she said that Felixor's tribe would want to debrief me. She'd take me back to them, but she had to first visit a different Sylvanian location to drop off the plants she'd collected."

"I didn't like the idea of being accused of portal crimes, or whatever term they'd use, so decided to scarper once we were back in Sylvania."

"And is that what you did?" I prompted.

"Too right. I figured they'd be after me, so I kept on the road. It was certainly not safe to return to Mellowdene as they knew I came from there."

I couldn't believe my ears. "Whoa, whoa. Are you saying you kept away from the village - and your SISTER - because you thought a tribe of cats were chasing you all this time? Could you really be that stupid?"

"Steady on."

"No. What did you think they'd do if they caught you? This is Sylvania. How bad could it be?"

"Yeah, yeah, I know. But remember that I'd spent months in a potentially hostile environment. I wasn't thinking straight."

I breathed out noisily. Staring at him I shook my head. "The better part of ten years."

"I know." He sat down beside me. "But after a while I met Angelica and the travel habit stuck."

We sat in silence for a few minutes. I realised there were still some major issues to cover so I decided to get them out of the way.

"Did you think Tara was here looking for you?"

"Yep."

"You surely weren't thinking of running again?"

"I don't know. No. No, I wouldn't do that. I'd go and face her."

"Do you need to? I doubt she's looking for you. Apparently she's been living here for around three years."

"In the village?"

"No. She has a cottage at the northern border of Mellowdene County, beyond Timbertop Farm on Canal Road."

"Why is she here, I wonder? Is it because I praised the place?"

"Possibly. Although it's more likely that Henry Bearbury extolled our praises. They both worked at the Greybear Clinic. She's a chemist. Undoubtedly that's why Nigel Snow-Warren spent time with her. Hospital pharmacist, remember?"

"That explains what I saw. I followed Chris and spied on them. I saw Nigel and then I saw Tara." He sighed deeply. "I've been an idiot."

"Don't wait for me to disagree."

"And I need to apologise to Figgy. Was he any trouble?"

"Not once he started talking. I think that may be one good thing that came out of this."

"What?"

I stood, trying to think how to put it into the right words. In curiosity, Rowan moved to my side.

"Figwort has spent all his life with you, Angelica and Aster. I know you are a loving family, but I think your lad has grown up having difficulty confiding in anyone else other than this small circle. Perhaps he didn't stay long enough anywhere to connect properly to anyone else. Before you say, I know Aster manages okay, but siblings can be different. Just look at you and Cecile."

Rowan started to say something but stopped himself, gave me a slight nod and indicated I should continue.

"It's possible I've started to break through his defences. He now appreciates that he has a bigger family. We might even help him discover what's missing in his life."

He closed his eyes and smiled. When they opened again they were bright and shining with friendship. "That's brilliant! It was a great day when I brought you and Cecile together."

"Oh, you're such a genius."

He broke out laughing, turning when the door opened and Figwort poked his head through the opening.

"Ah! There's my boy!" Rowan enthused, "And I need to say sorry for leaving you before."

Figwort came in and Rowan gave him a hug. I don't know if my brother-in-law heard his son when he said, "It's okay. I was with my Uncle Jack. He's family."

o 0 O 0 o

May Flowers

If you leave Butterglove House by the front gate and start to walk along Dandelion Lane towards the junction with Dock Road you will soon pass Perry Babblebrook's house. Number 32 is notable because of the beautiful garden, at one of its peaks in May. It is Perry's pride and joy.

It isn't really surprising that this horticultural gem attracts attention. Even if you're not particularly knowledgeable about flowers, shrubs and such, regular passersby would confirm that Perry is forever working there, making tweaks to his flora. Not long ago, after we had a spate of April showers, postman Pete Petite was making a parcel delivery to our house and he remarked that Perry had still been outside, rooting in his borders, a parasol diverting the rain from his endeavours.

I should spend more time in my garden. I do the minimum to keep it tidy, chopping back excess growth, doing some weeding, but rely upon perennial plants to provide colour. I can't be troubled with the hassle and expense of annual bedding plants. I'm no Perry. Merlin does his bit, but he's more concerned with his herb garden - tending his bay tree, clipping ingredients from his sage and rosemary bushes - than the flowers. I'm fortunate that Denzel - my cousin Samantha's husband - is a gardener. The council employ him as one of the greensmen/gardeners that keep the village's common land tidy. As such he has the skills and resources to keep in check the back field that separates our houses.

I was at Number 32 chatting to Perry about his display of May flowers a few days ago. As we walked around his garden I happened to mention my gardening shortcomings.

"Ah, Jackson, if I had that amount of land I'd have no time to go to work," he said, laughing. Perry, the youngest of the Babblebrook brothers, is a plumber. "I'd want to landscape the entire field, add some water features and a selection of aquatics."

"Anita would never see you," I nodded.

"She wouldn't object at the moment," he grinned.

"Surely not."

"She must have mentioned me to your Cecile."

I recalled a comment from months ago. "Is it something about making a bit of a mess?"

"Sounds about right. I don't blame her. You see, Anita is rather house proud but I was always forgetting about muddy footprints and spreading grass cuttings when I went into the house. I'd be taking her in some flowers, but my good intentions were always wiped out along with her hard work at keeping the carpet and floor clean."

"Oh dear."

"Oh dear's right. I started spending longer in the garden avoiding the brief breaks when I'd ordinarily pop indoors. It helped keep the house clean. But it became more difficult when we had little Joseph."

"Babies do take time away from other tasks."

"You've got it. I did my share at night, but even so, she had to be more directed in her housework. Less time to clean up to her desired standard. Careful planning."

"But Joseph's older now."

"True. And that's part of the current awkward situation."

He must have seen my confusion, so offered an explanation. "You see, Joseph takes after me rather than Anita. Except where I spread mess by being a touch thoughtless,  Joseph loves being mucky."

o 0 O 0 o

"I should explain. To try and avoid leaving a trail of dirt around the house I've installed a shower in my shed."

At this point I should say "shed" is an understatement. The building is a small summerhouse that stores his garden equipment and furniture, plus an area for potting and pricking out plants. Perry could probably live in there. The addition of a shower and wash room was not the surprise it could have been.

"That's... considerate," I said.

"It is, isn't it?" said Perry, examining a fuchsia, "A quick wash and a change of clothes, and Anita won't be troubled with me dirtying up the house."

"And how does Joseph figure into this?"

"Pails of water from the shower room. Mud pies. All used to stick May flowers to the kitchen wall. A picture for his mummy."

"Ouch. That didn't go well, I take it."

"Not for me. I had to take Joseph back to the shower room, clean him up, take him to his grandma's and then keep out of Anita's way whilst she sorted out the kitchen. She said she didn't want to see me until all was fixed. And I'd better be clean when I did return. Apparently it was all my fault."

"Why?"

"Don't ask me. Maybe I should have watched Joseph more closely."

"Maybe that's it. I take it you were preoccupied with your gardening."

"I didn't want the bluebells to spread beyond their borders."

"Understandable," I chuckled.

"And the forsythia needs pruning now the flowers have gone. The new growth is shooting up and sneaking into the branches of the prunus."

"And what about Joseph?" I was highlighting the carelessness that left a young rabbit to run wild - but Perry misunderstood.

"I'm to collect him from my mum's house at four o'clock."

"Three quarters of an hour ago?"

"Oh no! I'd better be on my way!"

I pointed to the clay that adorned his trousers. "Perhaps a shower and change of clothes?"

"Right. Thanks, Jackson."

He rushed off down the side of his house.

I shook my head in amusement. I'm glad I'm not a gardening addict like Perry. Maybe I am better letting my perennials provide the May flowers in my garden.

o 0 O 0 o