‘Great job, Lexie, and we’re really lucky today as there’s hardly any breeze. It’s so exposed up here. No sound problems, Cameron?’
‘No, mate. It’s all good. It looks more like a computer graphic from up here, doesn’t it? I moan about cutting the lawn at home in the summer and my wife says I never do the edges properly. She’d love this.’ He laughs.
‘It doesn’t make you yearn to change profession, then?’ Elliot jests and it’s good to see him looking a lot more like his old self today. He hasn’t coughed once, and he doesn’t look quite as tired as he has done recently.
‘Don’t get me wrong, I can stand here and appreciate the work that goes into it, but it would do my head in fussing over all those straight lines and edges.’
Solange approaches and we turn to greet her as she introduces today’s interviewee. Monsieur Mereux is a genial-looking man, in his late fifties and dressed rather smartly, I presume because he will be in front of the camera. His hands, though, reflect those of a true gardener as he leans in to shake mine.
After a little small talk, Solange heads back in the direction of the palace and, while Elliot swaps batteries and Cameron sorts a mic for Monsieur Mereux, I run through the list of questions with him.
‘Please, call me Anton,’ he insists.
‘And I’m Lexie. No one calls me Alexandra, except my late father whenever I exasperated him – which was often,’ I admit, with a smile. I can see that Anton is going to be a good interviewee; he’s relaxed, and his voice is clear, his speech well-paced. Sometimes it’s hard to slow people down and, thankfully, his English is very good.
We begin with a general overview, building on my short introduction, and I can see that Elliot is content for me to let Anton do his thing before I wade in with specific questions.
A quick glance in Cameron’s direction confirms he’s more than happy and there isn’t too much background noise as we finish up this segment. We all head down the steps to the lower level next, and I’m really looking forward to the live demonstration as we talk in detail about the art of topiary.
The four gardeners we’re going to be filming are waiting for us, their equipment already laid out on the gravelled path around them. Elliot suggests that they simply go about their business as usual, working in teams of two, while he films. Part way through the process we’ll stop and continue the interview while they work away in the background.
As we watch the guys lay boards on the gravel at the base of the planters to catch the cuttings, Anton turns to me.
‘It is said that a friend of the Roman emperor Augustus invented topiary and that topiarus is actually the Latin word for landscape gardener.’
‘It’s certainly an art form,’ I agree.
The two shrubs being trimmed each have three separate sections. One large ball shape at the bottom, above which is a slightly smaller ball, and at the pinnacle it ends with a pointed cone shape. It’s a very elegant design and I’m surprised to see one of the pieces of board on the floor is a template.
‘I wondered how on earth it was possible to maintain that perfect spherical shape,’ I exclaim.
‘As the shrub is delicately clipped with the shears, the template is moved a few inches at a time until it’s back in the original starting position. You will note that the new spring growth is uneven and straggly. So, it requires careful attention. Too severe a cut would leave exposed woody patches, but failure to trim regularly would destroy the perfect shape. It is a slow and methodical process, repeated many times over throughout the year.’
I nod, impressed by the diligence and attention to detail as the men focus on the task in hand.
‘How many different shapes are there, Anton?’
‘Over sixty and we have almost seven hundred topiary hedges and trees in total.’
Anton speaks so passionately about his work that he’s instantly engaging. For those who can only dream of a visit to Versailles, his enthusiasm is bound to transport them here through the screen.
What viewers can only imagine, however, is the warm sun beating down on us. We are also contending with the birds squabbling and chasing each other in and out of the vast array of trees and shrubs in their spring frenzy. On the terrace above us, the crowd of people is beginning to grow, and we now have an audience. Any background noise from above carries overhead so hopefully the only sounds we are capturing are those of the repetitive clippers and the crunch of gravel underfoot as the teams continue to work their magic.
By the time we’re ready to wrap I’m starving and looking forward to a leisurely lunch with the guys. The sun is high overhead and the warmth is very welcome; but what I need now is a nice comfortable chair in which to while away an hour or two.
While Elliot and Cameron pack up the kit I saunter off, mingling with the tourists who are now filtering into the Orangery parterre in increasing numbers. Heading towards the lake to get a closer view, I can’t help thinking about Grandma Viv. I know she would have been enthralled by all of this. Why did she never talk about it? Even to share with her family the wonders of her foreign adventure and tales of the fascinating people she met while she was here.
I realise that it’s time to make a start on Grandma Viv’s box.
10
Reaching Out
Midway through our late lunch a series of pings emanates from Elliot’s phone. He excuses himself from the table and I decide this is a great opportunity for me to get to know Cameron a little better. He has quite a sense of humour, I discover, and has me in fits of laughter when he shares some of his worst moments.
On one occasion he had to crawl on his stomach across a studio floor during a live interview after someone’s mic had become dislodged. Apparently, every syllable they uttered sounded like Darth Vader on a bad day.
I’m not really aware of how long Elliot has been gone, as when you’re languishing over a cheese board at the end of a perfect lunch, time seems to stand still. However, I find myself glancing out of the window and now I even have Cameron turning his head on the lookout, too.
‘Do you think I should go and find him?’ he offers.
Before I have a chance to reply, I see Ronan stride in through the door and he rushes up to the table.
‘Hey, guys. Lexie, I’ve just had a quick chat with Elliot. He’s outside on the phone but he needs to talk to you for a few moments.’
I can see by his face something is wrong. Very wrong. Throwing my napkin down, I sprint between the tables and out through the door. The warmth of the beautiful spring sunshine is dazzling after the cool, intimate ambience of the bistro restaurant.
One look at the strained pallor on Elliot’s face and my heart plummets. ‘What’s happened?’
‘It’s Mia. She’s just been rushed to hospital in an ambulance. They don’t know what’s wrong yet, but she’s having difficulty breathing. I’m just online trying to arrange a flight as the drive will take too long. Look, I have to go, Lexie, and I’m sorry. Ronan says he’ll step in for me but at the moment I can’t think past getting home as quickly as I can.’ His voice is distraught.
I throw my arms around his shoulders and he allows me to hug him as if that’s exactly what he needs. I hold him for a few moments until I feel him relax a little and then draw back.