Julia sat in the park on the same bench every day. She liked to come here and watch people walking through, or having their outside lunch, to take her mind of her own loneliness. She knew some of them now. The young girl with the rosy face who blushed every time a lad smiled at her. The old man who brought a bag of crumbs for the birds and who would sit talking to them, and any one who passed, until the bag was empty, when he would pull himself back up to painfully hobble home again.
The middle aged couple who worked together and who brought the work out with them, sitting at a table, ignoring everyone, pens scribbling, holding down papers with coffee cups from the local Costa’s. occasionally they would ask each other something and then would bow heads again to scribble faster.
Dogs would run up to Julia, sniffing to see if she had something to eat or just to say hi. She would smile sadly and ruffle their hair, remembering Max, heart still contracting with the sorrow of his loss. Sometimes the owners would stop and chat a while but usually they just called the dog who would trot off to another new sniff.
Occasionally people sat next to her and she would lower her head into a book she never actually read. She just wanted to watch and be with people but not to talk, not to get involved.
She was lonely she supposed. All her friends had drifted off years ago, besides she had moved too many times to make many. She had married the wrong man, dated the wrong men and made a lot of bad decisions in her life. She had loved many people but none had loved her enough to stay around if things got tough. From her parents with their own issues, having her just so they could marry young and then regretting it from the moment she arrived to the guy who had gone out for chips and just never came back……
Oh her Father had taken an interest when she was a young teen but it was best not to think about those dark days. She did think perhaps that it had been that which led her meeting the wrong kind of guy but all that was in the past now. Now she had given up, living alone in a bedsit, no children, no animals to die and leave her, no love to lose. She had done every thing wrong. If she was ever honest with herself, which was rare, she was So damn lonely.
She had thought about having her own child.
She loved children, always had. Once, as a small girl, she had told a teacher that she was going to have 6 ‘or more!’ but life had got in the way. She had even thought about being a single Mum but she had always looked too deeply at the men she had met and not wanted a child to have a part of them. The only man she had ever loved had been her Grandfather and even he had beaten her. Not having children, a girl to give all the love she had been denied, was the one thing in life she regretted above all others but her dogs had seen her through. Max had been special, intelligent gentle Alsatian who had been her constant companion since he was 6 weeks old, but even he had left now, died younger than he should have of a heart problem, and she was unsure if she would ever be able to bear another loss again. Besides, she was in her 50’s now and life was moving too fast to look after yet another life.
She sighed, tears welling in her eyes for the 10th time that day.
She realised someone had sat beside her. He was bent over a paper bag, rustling in it, looking for something. She glanced in his direction just as he looked up, glancing sideways at her, grinning a wide, happy, open smile.
She burrowed into her book again quickly.
Rustling the bag again he started humming a tune to himself, a nursery rhyme tune she remembered from her childhood. She smiled, transported back to happier times.
‘Excuse me’ he said
Placing the book beside her she turned to face him, half smiling.
‘Oh, there you are! At last! It is you, Emily!’ he started, his wrinkled face crinkling up like crepe paper. She had an uncontrollable urge to reach out to stroke it even through her shock over his knowing her real name.
‘How di….’ she began but he jumped up and beckoned her after him….
‘Come on’ he said. ‘I have something to show you quickly. Come on! Come on!’ he demanded as she sat there still, mouth agape.
Trotting off and not looking back, he almost tiptoed through two shrubs and headed towards the back of the park. Looking around, seeing the two pen pushers still scribbling, the young girl nibbling a sandwich with a fashion magazine spread out in front of her, Julia sighed and followed.
At first she could not see where he was but, standing still and listening, she could hear, along with the distant barking of playing dogs and the chatter of birds in nearby trees, a distant sound of a nursery song being sung.
Mary, Mary, quite contrary,
How does your garden grow?
With silver bells, and cockle shells,
And pretty maids all in a row.
Pushing through budding bushes Julia finally reached the old man who was standing in front of a empty, freshly dug flower bed.
‘Ah, there you are!’ he sang. ‘Julia Erica Patterson nee Emily Anne Jacobs!’
‘Ok’ said Julia. ‘How do you know me? Who are you?’
‘My name is Gardener’ grinned the man. ‘Just call me Gardener. I have known you all your life, I know why you changed your names, why you have tried to hide from yourself but….’ he continued, waving her protestations aside, ‘….that doesn’t matter now.’
He turned and picked some packets of seeds from his pockets, flapping them in her face. ‘These are yours!’
She took them from him and saw that there were no names on them. All the seed packets were plain green sachets, completely devoid of any writing apart from her name in old English script at the top, her real name Emily Anne Jacobs
Her knees felt weak, her face flushed. One of her mistakes had been so bad that she had changed her name to make sure he never found her again. How did this man know? Was she still safe? She turned to run away but he grabbed her arm, surprisingly tightly for such an old person.
‘These are for you’ he whispered in her ear. ‘You have to plant these. I have been looking for you a long time and you must plant these’
Julia’s knees gave way and she crumpled to the ground crying softly.
‘There, There lass’ mumbled the old man as he rummaged through his shabby old coat. he sighed happily as he found what he was after and handed her a rather earthy handkerchief. She took it without looking and blew her nose loudly.
‘Here!’ he said gently. ‘Tell you what, you choose and I will plant them for you’ He took back the packets of seeds.
‘and, what are these?’ he asked as he waved one packet and tore the top, sprinkling seeds into his hand.
‘Oh, erm…..’ she thought fast, nothing coming to her as she looked around for ideas. ‘How about Basil?’
She giggled sure now that she was finally having that breakdown people said she was due.
The man ignored her and spread his arm wide, sowing the seeds to the back of the bed. As they landed they sprouted roots which quickly buried themselves, green shoots appearing at the top, growing into small broad leaves. Basil leaves. Before long there was a line at the back of the bed of fresh young Basil bushes.
Julia sat and stared, mouth open again, eyes wide. She felt younger, lighter…… a strange uplifting to her mind.
She looked at the second packet the old man was waving at her.
‘I have always loved Iceberg Roses’ she said excitedly, ‘I want them to be roses! White roses!’
Gardener turned and threw the seeds across the bed and, as they fell, they took root, tendrils extending out as small tender stalks thrust up towards the sky, little thorns appearing, growing sharper as Julia and Gardener watched. Small buds appeared on the stems, white petals flowing open to become dainty white roses. A ladybird landed and lazily walked across a flower, stark red against the pure white.
Julia’s heart lifted. Her problems seemed so far away. This was pure magic. Beautiful magic. She had always loved magic but it had scared her somehow. Like men in masks had scared her. She could see them but their real meanings were hidden. This was real magic. Natural magic.
She realised Gardener was offering her the third sachet
Standing up she took it off him. Would it work for her too? ‘Angelica’ she said quietly. Ripping it open she dropped the seeds into her hand and sprinkled the seeds in a small space in front of her in the bed. She watched as the bush grew tall and strong, greenish white flowers opened and a horde of butterflies and bees appeared, humming quietly as they pollinated it.
Julia felt younger, more vibrant and, looking down saw her hands were unlined, the coarseness from years of work had gone, replaced with softness she had not seen for a very long time. She felt alive again and she pushed her hair back from her face, not thinking about the fact it was longer now than when she had walked into the park. Darker, bouncier.
‘Two more Emily’ said Gardener, his grin wider now and he was almost dancing where he stood.
She took the fourth packet and ripped it open shouting ‘THYME’ as she did so. She sowed the seeds widely, expecting to see the small tiny leaves of the thyme plant but, this time, something strange happened. As the tiny plant grew, she could make out small clock faces on each stem. She knelt next to one of the tiny herbs, scrunching up her eyes to make out what she was seeing. Miniscule little clock faces, each clock with hands ticking backwards. She looked up at Gardener, who winked back and who handed her the last green packet.
‘Make it count’ he said. ‘These were just practicing’
Julia thought for a moment and looked at him questioningly. He nodded, still smiling, eyes twinkling.
She slowly tore off the top and laying out the seeds reverently said, ‘Cornflour’
Gardener did dance now, legs kicking out as he twisted and turned, bopping to invisible music.
‘Cornflour!’ he sang, ‘Flower of Hope In Love’ He laughed out loud ‘She got it…. she got it!’
As the tendrils reached out to the earth they changed and grew along the top instead. As Julia watched a tiny body sprouted with perfectly formed little head, legs and arms. Teeny fingers grew and stretched out in the breeze, and perfectly formed wee blue eyes watched her steadily as she reached out to stroke the babies face.
She smiled gently and reached down to pick her up carefully. Without words, her heart singing loudly, she turned to Gardener.
He nodded and plucked some Thyme, The baby reached out and grabbed it in chubby fingers. Gardener watched for a moment and then, gently taking it from her, he tucked it into Julia’s coat pocket and patted it closed. Julia wrapped the coat around the tiny girl.
‘Come along Emily’ she sighed happily, ‘It is time to have the life you were meant to have my darling’
The young woman with her new baby walked out into the park.
Julia sat on the same bench in the park every day. She liked to come and watch people passing through or eating their lunch outdoors—anything to distract her from the weight of her own loneliness. Over time, she had come to know some of the regulars.
There was the young girl with the rosy cheeks who blushed whenever a lad smiled her way. The old man with a bag of crumbs who spoke to the birds—and to anyone passing by—until his bag was empty. Then, with great effort, he would haul himself upright and hobble slowly home.
She often saw the middle-aged couple from a nearby office, sitting at a table with papers weighed down by takeaway coffee cups from Costa’s. They barely spoke, scribbling notes, occasionally pausing to confer before bowing their heads again in silence.
Dogs would sometimes run up to Julia, sniffing to see if she had food, or perhaps just to say hello. She would smile sadly and ruffle their fur, remembering Max. Her heart still clenched at the thought of him. Occasionally, an owner might stop to chat, but more often they simply called the dog away, leaving Julia behind once more.
Now and then, someone would sit beside her. In those moments, she’d bury her face in a book she never actually read. She didn’t want to talk. She just wanted to be near people—without being part of them.
She supposed she was lonely. Most of her friends had drifted away long ago, and she had moved too many times to form new ones. She had married the wrong man, dated the wrong men, and made more mistakes than she cared to count. She had loved many people, but none had loved her enough to stay when life became hard. From her parents—who had her young and regretted it—to the man who went out for chips and never came back…
Her father had taken an interest in her during her teenage years—but it was best not to think of those dark days. Still, she sometimes wondered if that was what had led her to seek out the wrong sort of man. It didn’t matter now. She had given up. She lived alone in a small bedsit, with no children, no pets to die and leave her, and no love left to lose. If she were ever truly honest with herself—which was rare—she was so terribly lonely.
She had thought about having a child of her own. She adored children. As a little girl, she once told her teacher she would have six—or more! But life had got in the way. She had considered being a single mum, but had looked too hard at the men she met and never wanted a child to carry a piece of any of them. The only man she had truly loved had been her grandfather—and even he had hit her. Not having a child, a daughter to give all the love she had missed out on, was her deepest regret.
Max, her Alsatian, had helped her through it all. Gentle and clever, he had been her loyal companion since he was six weeks old. But he, too, had gone—taken too soon by a heart condition. She didn’t think she could face another loss. Besides, she was in her fifties now, and life felt too fast, too fleeting, to care for another living thing.
She sighed, tears welling in her eyes for the tenth time that day.
She hadn’t noticed someone sit beside her. He was bent over a paper bag, rustling around inside it. She glanced at him just as he looked up, catching her eye with a wide, open smile.
Quickly, she dropped her gaze and hid behind her book again.
He began humming—a nursery rhyme from her childhood. She smiled in spite of herself, caught in a moment of distant happiness.
“Excuse me,” he said.
She placed the book beside her and turned halfway to him, offering a cautious smile.
“Oh, there you are! At last! It is you, Emily!” he said brightly, his wrinkled face creasing like old paper.
She froze. Emily—her real name. She hadn’t heard it in years.
“How di—” she began, but he leapt to his feet and beckoned urgently.
“Come on! I have something to show you—quickly! Come on, come on!”
Still stunned, she hesitated. He skipped off through two shrubs, almost dancing. Glancing around, Julia saw the usual parkgoers—pen-pushers scribbling, the blushing girl with her magazine—and, with a sigh, she followed.
At first, she couldn’t see him. Then she paused and listened. Beyond the barking of dogs and the rustling trees, she heard a distant nursery tune being sung:
Mary, Mary, quite contrary,
How does your garden grow?
With silver bells, and cockle shells,
And pretty maids all in a row.
Pushing through budding bushes, she found him standing before a freshly dug, empty flower bed.
“Ah, there you are!” he sang. “Julia Erica Patterson—née Emily Anne Jacobs!”
“Okay,” she said warily. “How do you know me? Who are you?”
“Call me Gardener,” he replied with a grin. “I’ve known you all your life. I know why you changed your name, why you tried to hide from yourself—but that doesn’t matter now.”
He pulled out a handful of seed packets, fluttering them before her face. “These are yours!”
She took them, heart pounding. Each packet was plain green, with no markings save her birth name, Emily Anne Jacobs, written in ornate old English script.
Her knees trembled. One mistake had been so severe that she had changed her name to ensure she could never be found again. Was she still safe? Who was this man?
She turned to run, but his hand gripped her arm with surprising strength.
“You must plant these,” he whispered. “I’ve looked for you a long time. You must.”
Her knees buckled and she collapsed to the ground, crying softly.
“There, there, lass,” he murmured, rummaging in his coat. He handed her a handkerchief that smelled of soil and lavender. She took it without looking and blew her nose noisily.
“Here,” he said gently, taking back the seeds. “You choose, and I’ll plant them for you.”
He tore open a packet. “And what are these?”
“Oh… erm…” She glanced about for inspiration. “How about… basil?”
She giggled, certain now she was having the breakdown everyone had warned her about.
He ignored her tone and flung the seeds into the bed. As they landed, roots shot downward and bright green shoots sprang up. Basil—fresh, lush, fragrant. A perfect row of it.
Julia stared, slack-jawed, her eyes wide. She felt… lighter. Younger. Brighter.
The second packet.
“Iceberg roses!” she said eagerly. “White ones!”
With a flourish, Gardener cast the seeds. They sprouted at once—tender stalks, thorny stems, then buds blooming into delicate white petals. A ladybird landed on one blossom, its vivid red a striking contrast to the pure white.
Julia’s heart lifted. The weight she’d carried seemed miles away. This was magic—real, natural, gentle magic.
Gardener handed her the third sachet.
She stood, taking it from him. Would it work for her, too?
“Angelica,” she whispered. She opened it, scattered the seeds, and watched as tall green stalks unfurled, topped with pale blossoms. Bees and butterflies appeared, drifting lazily among the blooms.
Julia looked at her hands. The lines had vanished. Her skin was soft, smooth—like it had been long ago. Her hair bounced as she tucked it behind her ear—longer, darker, healthier than before.
“Two more, Emily,” Gardener beamed, almost dancing now.
She grabbed the fourth packet. “Thyme!” she shouted, laughing.
As the seeds grew, each tiny leaf bore a miniature clock face. She knelt to look closer—each one ticking backwards.
Gardener winked and handed her the final packet.
“Make it count,” he said. “These were just practice.”
Julia paused, studying him. He nodded.
Slowly, reverently, she tore open the last sachet. “Cornflower,” she said softly.
Gardener whooped with joy. “Cornflower! Flower of Hope in Love! She got it! She got it!”
The tendrils reached outward and twisted along the soil’s surface. Then they changed.
A tiny body formed, complete with limbs, soft hair, and clear blue eyes that blinked up at her.
Julia reached out with trembling hands, touching the baby’s cheek. She smiled, gently gathering the infant into her arms. No words were needed. Her heart sang.
Gardener plucked some thyme. The baby reached out and clutched it.
He tucked it gently into Julia’s coat pocket, patting it shut.
Julia wrapped her coat tighter around the child. Her child.
“Come along, Emily,” she murmured, a contented sigh escaping her lips. “It’s time to live the life you were meant for, my darling.”
And so, the young woman—no longer alone—walked into the park with her new baby in her arms.
Views: 0
