A Home Like Ours by Fiona Lowe (inspirational books for students .txt) 📗

her water bottle. All the women stopped talking and watched her. She nibbled the end and Aima nodded encouragingly.

‘It won’t poison you,’ Helen said. ‘Take a decent bite.’

Jade glared at her, but bit into the bolani and chewed quickly as if she was keen to get it out of her mouth as fast as possible.

‘Is good, yes?’ Aima asked.

Helen held her breath.

Jade nodded. ‘I thought it would be too spicy but it’s just potatoes and chives.’

‘And lentils and a little bit chilli.’

‘Can I have another one?’

Helen relaxed, the women laughed and Milo squawked at the food passing him just out of reach. Jade offered him some of the filling. He ate it and demanded more.

It was Kubra who rose first, urging the women back to work. Helen could have sat a little longer but their enthusiasm buoyed her to her feet.

She walked Aima and Baseera over to the Liparis’ compost bin and left them shovelling the organic matter into a wheelbarrow and trundling it next door for the women to fork it into the bed.

‘Come on, Jade, I’ll get you that sage and garlic.’

Jade followed and, to Helen’s surprise, immediately identified the sage from the other herbs.

‘You should grow flowers too,’ Jade said.

‘I can’t eat flowers.’

‘Yeah, you can. Nasturtiums, pansies, lavender, zucchini flowers.’ She counted them off on her fingers.

‘You seem to know a lot about it.’

Jade shrugged and shoved the garlic and sage in her pocket. ‘MasterChef.’

Helen waited for thanks, but Jade turned the pram around, said, ‘See ya,’ then walked away.

‘Bye,’ Helen said to her retreating back and relaxed. She’d been on tenterhooks since Jade had arrived. The teenager was graceless, defensive and didn’t take instruction very well. And then there was the baby …

Helen gave herself a shake—it was time to weed the Liparis’ bed. She reached into her back pocket. Bloody hell! Jade had walked off with her gloves.

As she was up to date with her tetanus shots, she decided not to waste more time by going to the cottage to get another pair and got busy digging, shaking, tossing and raking. Her plan was to make the bed so neat and tidy that pedant Judith would suffer from not being able to fault the handover preparation. Helen was tempted to plant an oxalis seed in the bed as an act of defiance for Fiza who’d been denied this bed, but that wasn’t the fault of the new owners. Besides, the weed wouldn’t confine itself to one garden bed so she’d only be hurting herself.

‘Hello, Helen.’

The musical voice made her look up. ‘Fiza! You made it.’

‘I am so sorry. Things have been very busy for me.’

Helen stood, wiping her hands on her jeans. ‘No worries. I’m just glad you’re here.’

‘This is my garden?’

‘No.’ Helen pointed through the fence. ‘I’m afraid you need to start from scratch, but I’ll help.’

‘That is very kind, but I don’t have a shovel.’

‘We’ve got everything you need in the shed.’

‘And I can use?’ She clapped her hands close to her chest. ‘This is wonderful. My children can help after school?’

‘As long as you’re here with them. Come and meet the other women and I’ll show you the bed I’ve marked out for you.’

Helen did the introductions and the women all murmured greetings. She was surprised they didn’t know each other given they lived in the same street, but then again, she kept to herself. Between the café, the garden and her work with the shire, she knew a lot of people but didn’t socialise with anyone.

The women returned to their tasks and Helen and Fiza dug the perimeter of the rectangular bed. It was hard work and neither of them chatted much.

Helen was taking a water break when she heard her name being called. Judith and Sharon stood on the community garden side of the fence. Helen returned their waves. Judith beckoned. Helen’s spine stiffened, but she waved again before returning to her digging. If Judith wanted to talk to her, she could walk to her.

It took Judith and Sharon less than three minutes.

‘Helen, what’s going on?’ Judith’s arm waved, encompassing all the activity.

‘We’re extending the garden.’

‘You can’t do that without consulting the committee!’

‘Our lease only covers the space we have,’ Sharon said.

‘The orchard’s ours,’ Helen said.

‘It’s a grey area.’

‘It’s not. The cottage is affiliated with the garden. Don’t you think it makes sense to turn this empty space into a much-needed extension?’

‘We don’t need an extension. Our waiting list is less than a year.’

‘And I’ve got women here who are keen to have their own garden. We’ve got the space, so why wait?’

‘Did you get permission from the shire?’ Judith asked.

‘Yes.’ She’d discussed it with Messina and Vivian.

‘Do you have it in writing?’

‘No, but—’

‘Until we have it in writing, this area’s not part of the garden.’

Helen rolled with Judith’s need to split hairs. ‘Fine, I’ll get it in writing.’

‘Good. Until then, none of the equipment can be used.’

‘What? You’ve got to be kidding?’

‘I don’t joke about protocol and procedure, Helen. You might be the coordinator, but you must operate within the rules.’

Helen fought for calm. ‘And that’s what you’re doing? Operating inside the rules?’

‘Absolutely.’ Judith looked around at the women who’d all stopped working, sensing something was happening. ‘It’s what a civilised society does. As these people have chosen to come to our democratic country, they’ll understand.’

‘Chosen? Fleeing a warzone is hardly a choice.’

Judith sniffed. ‘All I’m saying is they have to follow the rules just like the rest of us. They’re welcome to fill in a form and go on the waiting list. Sharon, pass the forms out.’

‘Don’t waste time and paper, Sharon,’ Helen said. ‘These women have worked incredibly hard today creating their beds. There’s no way I’m telling them they can’t garden.’

‘That’s up to you, Helen, but they won’t be gardening using the community garden’s equipment.’ Judith turned to face the women and clapped her hands like the retired schoolteacher she was. ‘Ladies! Until this area is officially part of the community garden, you can’t work here.