The Winter Garden (Nightingale Square #3) - Heidi Swain Page 0,2

quickest route to take me there.

‘Right then, Nell,’ I said, jamming my phone into the holder on the dash so I could follow the directions, ‘how do you feel about going on a bit of an adventure?’

Her lengthy yawn suggested she didn’t care for the idea at all, but I ignored her and carried on regardless.

* * *

Prosperous Place was easy enough to find, but as I approached the gate, it struck me that I might not be allowed in with Nell. I lingered outside as a few people wandered up. Some had pushchairs and an elderly gentleman zipped by on a mobility scooter, but no one had a dog.

‘Are you going in?’ asked a voice behind me. ‘The gardens are open to everyone today.’

I turned to find a friendly-looking man in his late sixties, wearing a padded green gilet and a name badge (which informed me that he was called Graham), holding a large picnic basket.

‘I had planned to,’ I told him, ‘but I didn’t think about the dog. I’m not sure if I can go in with her. I’m guessing you work here. Do you think it would be all right?’

‘I don’t actually work here,’ he smiled, stepping around me and through the gate. ‘I’m just helping out the owner today. Let’s go and ask him about your companion, shall we?’

‘Thank you,’ I said, following him inside.

My eyes were quickly drawn to the beautiful Victorian mansion and what looked like a very large garden and grounds that surrounded it. I don’t know what I had been expecting, but the photos online really didn’t do the size of the place justice. I was certainly surprised to find somewhere like it, privately owned, in the middle of a city.

‘Luke!’ Graham shouted, beckoning over a man with dark curls and intense brown eyes.

If this was Luke Lonsdale, then he was also a surprise. I had assumed the owner would be someone much older. I tried to quieten the voice in my head, which was keen to remind me how dangerous assumptions could be, and sounded very much like Eloise’s.

‘Graham,’ said Luke, bounding over and looking somewhat flustered. ‘What can I do for you?’

‘This young lady,’ said Graham, rather unnecessarily pointing me out, ‘wants to come in, but isn’t sure if she can bring her dog.’

‘Well now, let’s see,’ said Luke, his brow smoothing as he took a look at Nell, who stood, as always, just a little behind me and out of the limelight.

He squatted down on his haunches and held out his hand. To my utter amazement Nell stepped out of my shadow and allowed him to make a fuss of her.

‘I don’t think she’s going to cause too much havoc, is she?’ Luke smiled up at me.

‘And I’ve got biodegradable poo bags,’ I said, pulling a handful out of my pocket. ‘You know, just in case.’

I had no idea why I’d said that and I could feel my cheeks flaming.

‘In that case,’ said Luke, straightening back up and looking amused, ‘it’s got to be access all areas, hasn’t it?’

‘Thank you,’ I said, stuffing the bags back into my pocket.

Fortunately, I was saved from further mortification by the arrival of a television crew who were keen to interview Luke for their lunchtime show. He certainly seemed to be a draw for local media and I couldn’t help thinking, as I thanked Graham, and Nell and I took the path further into the garden, that he looked vaguely familiar.

However, once I was deeper inside, my thoughts didn’t linger on the handsome owner because I was mesmerised by everything else. The garden, I worked out, given the size of the trees, was easily as old as the house, with long sweeping herbaceous borders, a hidden fern garden, rose garden, pet cemetery, what looked like a meandering stretch of river and sizeable lawns. Everything was enclosed by a high brick wall, beautifully bleached and softened by time. It was an absolute gem of a place, or it had been once.

To the untrained eye, it was probably perfect, but I could see what was hidden beneath. The lawns might be in check, but the shrubs hadn’t been properly pruned, the roses scaling the walls were almost out of control and in some parts weeds had run rampant through the borders. This was a garden on the cusp. That said, it wouldn’t be too difficult to restore it to its former glory and as a potential proper winter garden, it held endless appeal.

I wandered for