A deep,
satisfying warmth filled Caitlin, once again safe in her sanctuary.
Her glass house. No ordinary structure of glass and aluminium, but a
perfect piece of Victorian architecture and engineering, sitting at
the edge of a walled garden, in a property once owned by Caitlin's
grandparents. Now in her ownership and care, it looked stunning, with
its dwarf brick walls, sparkling glass and white, cast iron frame,
topped with a ridge of fleur-de-lis, but it was a very different
picture when she first inherited it. Caitlin’s heart had swelled
with sympathy when she first glimpsed the rusted framework, most of
the glass broken and what little remained so black with dirt it was
unrecognisable, crumbling brickwork, overgrown with nettles and
layers of mud so thick they could have sent a geologist to heaven.
Her grandparents had spent years caring for and developing the garden
apart from one corner which they had left wild to bring in the
welcome, pollinating bees and butterflies, and it was whilst pruning
and shaping that corner that Caitlin discovered the doorway in the
wall leading to the glass house.
A rap on
the glass and the scraping of the door being opened, interrupted
Caitlin's solitude.
'Thought
I might find you in here.' Jack announced as he stepped into the
entrance porch of the glass house.
'Where
else? I hope you haven't called round for money?' Caitlin asked,
without looking up, recognising his voice.
'No,
we're all settled up. Just wanted to see how my baby is holding up?'
'She's
fabulous, but she's a high maintenance girl.'
'Just
the way I like them.'
'My
finances would appreciate it if she wasn't.'
'She'll
pay you back for all the love you've given her one day.'
Love is
the most appropriate phrase Jack could have chosen, nothing but that
amount of dedication could have saved the glass house from its almost
complete destruction. Restoring it had been a labour of love, and
often torture, for Caitlin, but it was also in homage to her much
loved and missed grandparents.
'Do you
remember the first day you saw her?' Caitlin asked.
'I
remember walking round that garden for fifteen minutes trying to find
you and then wondering what I'd stumbled into when that mud monster
materialised through the wall.'
'I was a
bit of a sight wasn't I? That mud was so thick, I still don't know
how I landed face down in it. If it wasn't for your help I'd still be
digging it out.'
'I've
never seen anyone so excited at discovering soil and stones.'
'How
dare you,' Caitlin laughed. 'You know fine rightly they were more
than soil and stones; flower beds, bordered with that gorgeous
brickwork.' She pointed to the beds, now filled with an abundance of
plants in various stages of growth, framed by intricately twisted
deep red bricks.
Caitlin
suspected Jack stayed longer that first day than he had intended to,
and perhaps the next, and the next. The problem was, every time they
made one discovery it led to another. After the beds, came the pipes
running through them. Then he was there for the water tank that had
to be scooped and drained clean of algae ridden, foul smelling,
stagnant water; he offered his home and internet access to research
how the pipes, tank and stove should connect to operate as irrigation
and heating systems; he provided an extra pair of eyes and arms for
the many hours in salvage yards and the heavy replacement materials;
he helped free the winches for the ventilation windows from rust
before finally restoring all the glass, which had required meticulous
measuring and cutting.
He'd
helped restore the glass house to its former glory and now it
provided a flexible and perfect growing environment for the plants
Caitlin cultivated for both her own enjoyment and her burgeoning
gardening business.
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