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The peach dress looked worse than I remembered. I spent the morning trying not to let the fact that I’d caved to Alfie’s demands bother me. It was just a dress. It didn’t matter.
I’d shown Mark my plans so far for the Harrington Garden and he’d looked them over with a critical eye. I’d expected critiques and advice but he’d simply handed my plans back to me, seeming almost disinterested. Did he approve of them? I couldn’t tell and I couldn’t deny that he’d hurt my feelings. I’d told myself in the beginning that his mood was due to his mother being unwell, but now I was starting to wonder.
The bunker felt unusually stifling with Mark in it and I did my best to ignore his critical gaze. His bleak mood only soured further at the arrival of a bouquet of bleeding hearts amongst a selection of wildflowers from Alfie.
In an attempt to escape Mark, I took my plans into the boutique garden to work on the finer details. I had no colour scheme or plant layout yet and I was struggling. I contentedmyself with doodling, playing with different ideas and waiting for inspiration to hit.
I was startled out of my doodling when a pair of scuffed boots appeared in front of me. I looked up to find a ruddy-faced Bradley looking down at me, holding two sandwiches and two bottles of orange juice.
“Hungry?” he asked, and my stomach rumbled in response.
“Starving.” I broke into a grin, feeling like I’d just been handed a life jacket in a storm-stricken sea. He took a seat on the ground next to me and handed me a cheese sandwich.
Bradley had a very unselfconscious beauty. His hands were rough and calloused and he wore the same scuffed boots every day. There were large rips in his shirt and I could see glimpses of the smooth, tanned skin beneath. I wondered if he took his shirt off when he worked. If he did it would probably give Rosie a heart attack.
“Enjoying the view?” I looked up and found him grinning at me. He’d caught me staring.
“Sorry.” I apologised but he just laughed it off. I couldn’t help but compare him to Alfie. I wouldn’t have felt an ounce of discomfort having Bradley at my house. I could imagine him handling the shitty water pressure with ease. He would see the charm of my creaking old bed frame and falling-apart furniture. He’d understand that they belonged to the family I’d lost.
“Don’t apologise. So, what’re you working on?” he asked, taking a bite of his sandwich.
“It’s for the Harrington Garden. I’m struggling with it.” I passed him my sketch pad so he could look at my preliminary designs. “Help me?” Bradley wasn’t a designer, but plants were his forte. He might be able to give me a fresh perspective. I remembered how nervous I’d been when I’d shown my plans to Alfie, and it felt odd that I wasn’t nervous at all showing them to Bradley.
“Your layout’s good. It’s simple, which gives you plenty of space to be creative with your planting. Have you seen the plans for the rest of the Harrington Grounds?”
“Yes, they’re complex, and pretty spectacular. This isn’t either of those things.”
“Well, it doesn’t need to be complex to be spectacular. Gardens, plants, flowers, they’re supposed to say something, so think about what it is you want to say and then pick the plants that speak for you.”
“As easy as that?”
“Why not?” He took a sip of his orange juice. “I think you’re overthinking it, Lo.”
“Maybe you’re right.”
“I’m sorry, can you repeat that?” he said, putting one hand to his ear. I rolled my eyes at him.
“I said you’re right!”
“I usually am.” He smirked and I play-punched him. “So, what does the boss think of these?”
“Mark? I’m really not sure. I showed them to him, but he just said ‘hmph’ and that was it.”
“He doesn’t seem to like you much, you know. I thought you said he was a nice guy.”
“He is…or he was. I don’t know what’s gotten into him recently.”
“Weird.” He took a sip of his orange juice. “Oh by the way, is your friend single? Keira?” His question caught me off guard. I began to stutter and he burst out laughing. “I don’t mean for me! My friend Sean - you met him atSpecimens? - he wanted to know if she was seeing anyone.”
“Uh no, she’s single.” I didn’t want to examine why I felt so relieved that he wasn’t asking for himself. “She’s leaving though. She got a job in London.”
“No shit? I’m sorry.” I looked up, surprised. “For you, I mean. Having your best friend move away must be hard.”
“Yeah it is.” I felt comforted that Bradley had read me so well. When Alfie did it, it just made me nervous, as if I knew deep down, that Alfie would take advantage of any weakness and Bradley wouldn’t.
“You know, you’re quite perceptive for a guy.” He just shrugged and popped the rest of his sandwich in his mouth. The man could devour food quicker than me, and that was a pretty impressive feat.
“I don’t think I’m perceptive, I just pay attention. I pay attention toyouanyway.” My gaze flickered to his and he held it a moment before pulling it away, as if the moment had never been there at all. But it had, and we’d both felt it.