Chapter 7-4

1250 Words

Morning sun found its way through the gaps between the buildings. The day would be warm. Secateurs clicked and scraped as Alice worked. Some of the plants had grown from cuttings various visitors had brought with them from their home countries. The lavender, for instance, had come wrapped in silk and poking out of a lovingly tended pot of English dirt. The bearer had traded the cuttings for meals. A month’s worth, they’d received in the end. Alice wouldn’t have given them a single meal for a scrap of some plant. It might smell nice, but there were far better growing all around the city, even in the gardens across the road. Heather grew in an old horse’s trough filled with soil and kept on the shady side of the yard during summer. They reminded Mrs Ponsonby of home. Alice understood that a

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