Chapter 8
Mark had wangled Saturday morning off work. “We need to do something about the back yard this weekend,” he urged, unlocking the back door and stepping outside.
I wasn’t much of a gardener, and I’d pretty much ignored what went on in the garden. I cut the grass, kept the weeds down as much as I could, but that was about it.
“Why don’t we pop down the garden centre and get a few ideas?” I suggested, reaching out to touch a particularly straggly-looking rose bush that needed either pruning or digging up. “Ouch!” I pulled back my hand. “The bugger got me.”
Mark let out a single bark of laughter before coming to my aid.
“Let’s get some advice on what we can plant.” Under my breath I added, “That won’t bite.”
We went back into the kitchen and I ran my finger under the tap.
“Wa
