‘Maybe.’
I didn’t mean to raise this and I’m annoyed with myself for breaking the mood. I’m also not sure how much to tell him. What’s in the box has never been seen by anyone other than Grandma herself and I don’t want to betray her memory by sharing her thoughts and reflections too soon.
Ronan is watching me intently and it’s time to make a quick decision. He has told me a lot about himself and he needn’t have shared that, and my gut is saying that he’s someone I can trust.
‘My mum has sent me another box she found hidden amongst my grandma’s things. No one has ever opened anything inside it as far as we know, but she wrote my name on the underside of the lid.’
‘And it contains?’
I slide out the drawer of the coffee table and grab hold of the box, putting it on my lap.
‘It’s full of notebooks and there was a heartfelt letter from my mum.’
I’m hugging it to me, as if it’s valuable. Which it is, to me.
‘Do you want to share that, or is it too personal?’
My hand hesitates for a moment before I prise off the lid, lifting out the folded sheet of paper and passing it to Ronan. I think I trust this man, and what I need is an impartial opinion. If I’m any judge of character at all, I do believe he’s capable of that.
He takes a few moments to digest the contents before looking up at me, wide-eyed.
‘Okay. This isn’t an easy situation you find yourself in, then.’
I close my eyes, momentarily, so relieved that he seems to understand my dilemma.
‘I know.’
‘So, what are you going to do?’
I sigh. ‘I’m scared I’ll discover something that could end up breaking my heart. My grandparents love for each other was a romance that never ended – even after his death he was still the one for her until the day she died. If I kept whatever I discover from Mum, I think she’d sense something was up. My sister warned me about my obsession with Grandma and Versailles, but I thought that if I found out where she stayed when she was here, I’d feel closer to her. However, this box changes everything, and, well, who knows what secrets there are in the notebooks? Do I take the risk and read them because that’s what she wanted, or do I let the past lie?’
‘You can’t right now and that’s obvious, just looking at you and the way you’re hugging that box as if someone is about to snatch it away from you.’
I’m feeling tearful, not least because Ronan seems to understand. It’s not my imagination; there is a real connection between us that seems to grow with each encounter.
‘But a part of me has to know. Why didn’t she just burn the contents of this box when she knew she was dying? If I’d been older at that point, maybe she would have sat me down and told me the story in full. Grandma Viv believed in passing on some of the lessons she’d learnt. Many of them repeated so many times, they’re imprinted on my mind, and it has helped to guide so many of my decisions as an adult. It’s like she’s still with me, if you can understand that.’
He cups his chin in his hand, running his fingers down each side against the light stubble, in thinking mode.
‘You have reason to believe there’s a message in there she wanted you to discover?’
Shrugging my shoulders, I stare down into the open box. There’s no order to anything, no conveniently numbered covers. Just two rows of spiral-bound notebooks about six inches by five and a few keepsakes, by the look of it, wedged in between them.
‘Look, I can see this is upsetting you. Why not pop the lid back on and stash it away in the drawer until you’re ready to make a start? Wait and see if I can uncover anything at all about what she was involved in at the palace. Maybe even find out where she stayed and take you there. How about that?’
I nod gratefully, then almost without thinking I close my fingers around one of the small notebooks and I lift it out of the box.
‘Can you just do me one favour?’
He looks at me, unblinking.
‘Open the first page and tell me what it says, but don’t go any further.’
There’s a hint of reluctance as he takes the book from me, then slowly opens it, his eyes scanning the words written on the page.
‘Goodness.’ His glance confirms he’s intrigued. ‘It’s a title page. “Nature is a formidable teacher. Embrace the lessons if you want the seeds of your life to grow and be fruitful. My personal journey.” She’s signed it Vivian Hanley and that’s it.’
I hesitate for a moment, then pop it back into the box before closing the lid. I can tell he’s curious and would like to investigate further, but I’m not ready to trawl through Grandma Viv’s personal collection quite yet.
‘I’m sorry, I bet it’s a bit frustrating for you, Ronan, as a researcher. I know that her time here is a part of the history of the garden in a very small way. If I bring myself to read through the contents, then anything I think might be useful to the work you’re doing, of course I’ll share with you. Maybe that’s what it was all about, anyway. But without a clue over where this might lead, I need to be cautious and not merely curious. I hope you can understand that.’
He turns slightly in his seat, reaching out to place his hand over mine as it languishes between us on the sofa. As our skin touches, the warmth of him is exciting and I can feel my pulse begin to race.
‘You could be right. There was a lot of tension at Versailles at the time and tussles over what should be given priority. Egos came into play and the internal politics really affected the people to whom the gardens were their life’s work. But it’s all history now, and the majority of the people involved are long gone.’
He’s right, of course.
‘But not all of them,’ he adds suddenly. ‘There is someone I could arrange for you to meet, who was a trainee here in the early sixties. He retired at the age of fifty-three, after being involved in a terrible car crash. He’s in his late seventies now, but I’ve visited him on numerous occasions over the years. It’s true that our relationship is a bit strained at the moment, but I think he’d enjoy talking to you, given the connection.’
‘That would be incredible, Ronan. I’d love to know if someone remembers my grandma when she was here. She might have given up on her dream career for the love of my granddad, but that doesn’t mean it’s not worth celebrating her other big achievement. And that was for a whole year to be a part of the team of gardeners helping to tend one of the most famous gardens in the world.’
7
Day One in the Can
I’m buzzing this morning, fuelled by nervous energy and excitement. Elliot arrives looking tired, but his cough seems a little better than it has been and he’s more like his old self. It takes just over an hour to set everything up.
We’re filming in the North Parterre this morning and we want to get the majority of the interview out of the way before the gardens are at their busiest. We need to wrap by noon at the latest, but it’s going to be a complicated first session. Monsieur Theron Picard is a senior gardener and very knowledgeable, but he doesn’t speak any English at all.