Sara Alexi - The Illegal Gardener

Her greatest find, hidden behind a loose board lining a cupboard built into the thick walls, which she is cleaning out, is a very old-looking revolver. The handle inset had gone, just leaving a metal outline, and the trigger has been purposely bent beyond usage but the barrel still revolves. It reminds her that Greece has been a very uncertain place until relatively recently. She wonders what family had lived here in such insecure times that they had need to hide a gun. She chats to Aaman.

Aaman does not hear her talk as she clears the room. His mind is fully occupied, leaving no room for any digression.

Over these days, the garden makes progress. The trees are selected and planted and the grass seed is scattered handful by handful. Juliet has no idea how thickly to sow grass seeds.

“One handful for the ants, one for the garden to have grass, and one for the gods,” Aaman declares for each step of their steady march, as they fling seeds in an arch. The vegetable plot is planted and tended, and Juliet cultivates her herb garden that Aaman visits for his cooking.

They rig up an irrigation system for the vegetable plot. Juliet buys coils of plastic pipes and bags of connectors. Aaman trails the main pipe along the edge of the plot and takes off spurs to each furrow they have planted.

The hoses have holes in them at regular intervals, and Aaman folds the ends back, fastening them with cable ties. Juliet, to make her life simple, orders an electronic timer that they can connect to the hose at the tap so it comes on at regular intervals, but Aaman likes the thrill of turning the system on and off manually, and it is a while before he connects the timer.

After just under two weeks, Aaman looks up from the computer one evening.

“I have done it, come and look.”

Juliet, who is now painting the walls in the guest room, puts down her brush and wipes her hands on an old tea towel. She is still wiping them as she stands behind Aaman, who works at the kitchen table. The screen is filled with code until Aaman switches to another window and there is a page dedicated to her. There is her name, her services, her specialties, and a form to fill out to contact her to use her translation services.

“Wow! That is amazing. You have learnt to do that in these few days?”

“It is HTML, it is not difficult. Next I will learn php so I can write active pages that can do processing and call a database.”

Juliet smiles encouragingly but hasn’t a clue what he is talking about.

Juliet jumps at the shrill sound of the phone and picks it up quickly so it doesn’t disturb Aaman.

“Are you busy now?”

“Hi, Michelle. No, I’m not busy now.”

Aaman looks up from his work and smiles at her.

“So tell me about the house boy!”

Juliet’s turns from Aaman, who is already lost in his own world again, before she goes through to her bedroom. It is cooler in here, the walls are two and three feet thick in what is the oldest part of the building. Juliet slouches onto the bed and pulls the covers over her legs. The cat appears and settles down on her warmth.

“He is not a house boy.” Juliet giggles.

“So what is he?”

“He is a pretty nice person, actually.”

“So tell me again, he’s doing your garden and he is illegal, right?”

Juliet brings Michelle up to date.

“That’s an interesting turn of events. Is he staying with you?”

“No, he goes home each night.”

“Oh, and where is his home?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t really asked.”

“I don’t suppose it will be much from what you have said. What he expects to get paid is less the price of a hotel room. How do you get in touch with him if you need to cancel?”

“The thought hadn’t occurred. Anyway, how are you?”

“Are you feeling all right? Or do you want something? You never ask me how I am!” It is Michelle’s turn to giggle.

“Well, I am now so how are you?”

“The social reply is I am fine. The real reply, if you want it, is I am pretty fed up actually. I didn’t tell you that I caught Richard out, did I? It was about a year ago, with his secretary for pity’s sake. How clichéd is that? Well, I confronted him and, to cut a long story short, I filed for divorce and it came through last week.” Michelle drew a breath.

“Oh my God, Michelle, why didn’t you tell me?”

“We have been so out of touch these last couple of years. Besides, you had your problems. I just need to get on with mine.” There is a touch of humour in her tone and Juliet realises she has been remiss and her lack of effort has caused hurt.

“So where are you? Are you at home? What happened to the house and everything?”

Michelle laughs.

“I was made into partner two years ago. I could have taken him to the cleaners. Anyway, he pretty much just wanted to walk away so that made it easy. It’s just the evenings when it’s quiet, or at night when I wake up and I have forgotten and I find I’m alone. But you’ve been there, Juliet.” Her voice drops and becomes quieter as she speaks.

“Yes, I have been there, and it is tough no matter how much of a sod they’ve been. But it is just an adjustment, nothing bad is happening. Soon you will be like me and loving the freedom.”

“Actually I already love that part. No one to answer to. After work last night, I took the train into the centre of London and saw a show. I couldn’t be bothered with the hassle of public transport to go home afterwards, so I booked into a hotel. That kind of freedom is priceless. I can’t imagine what Richard would have said if I’d done that when I was still with him.”

“Good for you. But I guess it wouldn’t harm if I called you more often in the evenings then, just to remind you that you are not completely alone!”

“If this is what Greece does to you, then maybe you made the right move.”

Juliet can hear genuine pleasure in her voice. She opens the door a crack so she can see Aaman. He is still intent on his work but he is smiling.

The sun grows hotter as spring merges into the beginning of summer. The garden needs less and less work as the days pass. Aaman is rebuilding a stone wall at the front of the house that has collapsed over time. He and Juliet have done several runs to the local riverbed, which is dry in the summer, for boulders and stones to finish the wall. Juliet sits drinking a well-deserved coffee as Aaman thoughtfully reconstructs the wall.

“Do you think we should paint it when it is finished to match the white wall behind the pomegranate trees?”

“I think that is up to you.” He continues at his own steady pace. Juliet looks over her cottage with a sense of accomplishment.

“What’s it like where you stay, Aaman?”

“It is in an orange grove.”

“That sounds nice.”

“No, it is not very nice. It is a barn that the farmer had made for illegals to sleep.”

Juliet creates a picture of a wooden-beamed, stone-walled barn with single beds dotted around the walls, a huddle of armchairs at one end, and a flagged stone floor.

“It doesn’t sound too bad.”

“No, I am grateful.”

“I’m going to the village shop. Is there anything extra that we need? No? OK, see you in a bit.”

As Juliet walks down the lane, she notices that all the weeds have gone. It looks oddly bare. The edge of the road where it meets the wall is entirely clear of nettles and grasses. Juliet misses the dots of colour the wildflowers had brought, but is glad the spiky, variegated leaved plants are no more to be seen, or felt. The vines that creep over the fence of the disused barn next door have been trimmed, and the lemons harvested from the untended tree next to the barn. The house next to that, which, as yet, has shown no sign of inhabitance to Juliet despite the well-tended front yard, is clear of the weeds and leaves around the gate. There are signs of Aaman’s care and attention everywhere.