The Woman from Paris A Novel by Santa Montefiore

Author:Santa Montefiore
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Mystery, Chick-Lit, Contemporary, Fiction, Romance, Historical, Women's Fiction
ISBN: 9781451676709
Publisher: Simon & Schuster
Published: 2013-02-05T00:00:00+00:00

17

The following day Rosamunde returned to Fairfield to find her sister on her knees in the orchard, planting new fruit trees. It had taken a full fifteen minutes to find her, shouting at the top of her lungs until the dogs had rushed out through the hedge and barked as if she were an intruder.

“Good gracious, Antoinette! What on earth are you doing?” Rosamunde exclaimed when she saw her sister’s muddy knees and ruddy cheeks.

“I’m planting,” Antoinette replied proudly. “Barry and I went off to the garden center, not the small one in Fairfield, but the really big one at Bristlemere. They had to deliver because we bought too much to fit into the car. Look at this darling peach tree. Can you imagine, Rosamunde, we’re going to have peaches!”

“Does Barry need an extra pair of hands? I thought he had an army of young men to help him!”

Antoinette laughed. “I want to do it, silly.”

“Look at the state of you! You’re covered in mud.”

Antoinette grinned up at her. “You should see your face.”

“I’m just surprised, that’s all.”

“I haven’t had so much fun in years!” Antoinette picked up the young tree and pulled it gently out of its pot. “In it goes.” Rosamunde watched as she loosened the roots then placed it carefully in the hole she had dug. “There, a nice new home for you, Mr. Peach Tree.” She sat back on her haunches and wiped her brow with the back of her hand, smearing a streak of mud across her skin. “Do you remember, when we were children, planting pots of hyacinths with Mother?”

“Of course. I love hyacinths.”

“And you’d always dig up the garden and come in top to toe in mud.”

“Yes, and you were always very prissy and clean, if I remember rightly.”

“Well, I think you had more fun than I did.”

“Most certainly. Children love playing in mud.”

“So I’m making up for lost time. Barry’s gone off to fetch another one. They’re all lined up at the back of the house. Ten of them.”

“All peaches?”

“No, we have two plums, two apples, two pears, two cherries, and of course, two peaches.”

“If it wasn’t for my stiff hip, I’d get down on my knees and help you.”

“I know you would. But you can talk to me, instead, and keep me company. Isn’t it a glorious day? Listen to the birds. Why is it that I can hear them in the trees but I can’t see them? Have you ever wondered why? Listen! The branches are alive with them, hundreds of them, yet can you spot a single bird?”

Rosamunde laughed, because it was so uplifting to see her sister happy again. “Perhaps Barry can bring me a chair when he comes back.”

“Yes, one of the garden chairs, it’s about time they came out again and shook off the winter cobwebs. By the way, guess who’s coming for dinner tonight?”

“Margaret.”

“No, not Margaret, though I daresay we’ll be seeing her sometime today.” She grinned up at Rosamunde. “You can wear your new blouse and trousers.

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