I very much enjoyed helping with the plant selection and colour co-ordinating. We soon discovered that the most impactful combinations seemed to be those which didn’t match at all.

‘I’ll just pop to see Finn about this container,’ said Graham, once he was happy everyone was occupied.

‘You don’t want me to go instead?’ I offered.

‘No,’ he winked. ‘There’s no telling how long you’d be!’

When he came back, he had a couple of people with him. I knew they couldn’t be Winterfest late arrivals as all the spots were taken, but Graham looked delighted as he left them at the gate and rushed back over to me.

‘They’re here to see you, Freya,’ he excitedly told me as I looked up from the bag of compost my hands were immersed in. ‘I recognised the woman straightaway,’ he elaborated, ‘she’s a famous landscape architect. In fact,’ he added, ‘now I think of it, her last name’s Fuller. She isn’t a relative, is she?’

‘Yes,’ I swallowed, my shocked heart beating a sudden tattoo as I looked over to where she was standing, ‘she’s my mother.’

It took me a moment to realise that she wasn’t with Dad, but Jackson. I had no idea why they’d come, but the sudden appearance of a shaking Nell at my side told me that she’d seen Jackson too. There was no way I was going to subject her to a reunion.

‘Would you keep an eye on Nell for me, Graham?’ I asked. ‘And I’ll get rid of them.’

‘Of course,’ said Graham, ‘but don’t do that. Take your time, show them around.’

Obviously, he had no idea about my family set-up, and it was hardly the time to enlighten him, so I just smiled and strode over to where the pair were standing.

‘Freya, darling,’ said Mum.

She leant in to offer me her cheek but, noticing the grubby state I was in, she recoiled.

‘Have you come to plant up some polyanthus?’ I asked, smiling sweetly.

‘Hardly,’ she grimaced.

Bright bedding was the last thing she’d put in a winter-flowering container. Not that she would ever actually do any planting herself.

‘Well,’ I said, still ignoring Jackson, ‘that’s what I’m doing, so—’

‘We won’t take up much of your time,’ she cut in. ‘We just want a quick word. Jackson has something to tell you.’

‘Hello, Freya,’ he said, stepping up and giving me the kiss Mum had shied away from.

‘Jackson,’ I said, my stomach rolling because I hadn’t managed to move away quickly enough to ward him off.

He had never, in spite of his early efforts, managed to kiss me before, and I was annoyed that he had caught me off guard. I was also perturbed to find that, in spite of the manner in which I’d left Broad-Meadows, thwarting his cruel plan for Nell, he still had the power to unsettle me.

‘You’re looking well,’ he added, appraising me in a way that I didn’t appreciate.

‘You’d better follow me,’ I said, heading for the garden office.

‘Aren’t you going to take us to your house?’ Mum asked, refusing the seat I offered her as I scrubbed my hands at the cracked Belfast sink.

‘No,’ I said, ‘I’m not. I haven’t got time.’

I knew Graham wouldn’t mind if I took a minute or two, he’d already said as much, but I didn’t want either of them, particularly Jackson, crossing my threshold and tainting the cosy ambience I had created.

‘Well, I have to say—’ Mum began, but Jackson interrupted her.

‘It doesn’t matter,’ he said. ‘We thought you might be busy and we really don’t want to hold you up.’

‘What do you want then?’ I demanded, determined not to let him know he had unnerved me.

‘I just wanted to tell you, in person, that I’ve decided not to sell Broad-Meadows.’

I felt my temperature shoot up and my hands, which I’d just dried, turn clammy. I closed my eyes and swallowed.

‘Not sell Broad-Meadows,’ I repeated.

‘That’s right.’

Jackson sat in the chair I had offered Mum and I dumped myself down in the one behind the desk.

‘I tried to tell you the last time we spoke,’ Mum piped up, ‘but you never let me get a word in edgeways these days.’

Jackson bit his lip and I guessed he found my mother every bit as trying as I did. Had I not been reeling from shock, I might have found his expression amusing, but as it was…

‘You’re now keeping Broad-Meadows,’ I repeated.

‘Yes,’ Jackson smiled, showing off his perfectly aligned too-white teeth.

He really was the all-American dream. Even on a Sunday he was dressed for business; come to that, so was my mother. Was there something else they had driven all the way to Norwich to tell me?

‘What made you change your mind?’ I asked.

‘I decided I couldn’t part with it, after all.’

That was something, I supposed. I wondered what Eloise would make of his dramatic turnaround.

‘And I was kinda hoping,’ he carried on, fixing me with a penetrating stare, ‘that you might come back, Freya?’

‘To Broad-Meadows?’

‘Yes,’ he nodded, ‘and to your cottage in the grounds.’

I had loved that little place. It was cramped but quirky and full of character, but then so was where I was living now, and in Nightingale Square I was surrounded by friends.

‘But what about your tenant?’ I frowned, remembering my speedy eviction.

Jackson seemed to think he was offering me something special, and had conveniently forgotten the circumstances of my departure from my once beloved home.

‘Decamped,’ he shrugged. ‘So, the place is yours, if you want it – unless you were happier in the house.’

‘You know I was never happy in the house,’ I reminded him.

He laughed then, which infuriated me and ruffled my mother’s feathers. Clearly, the meeting wasn’t going how she had planned.

‘Jackson wants you to manage the garden again, Freya,’ Mum pointedly remarked.

I’d already realised that, but the way Mum said it told me that we were now getting to the crux of their unexpected arrival. I saw Jackson’s jaw tighten, just a little, but it was enough of a tell to warn me that something else was afoot.

‘Well,’ I smiled, ‘you know I always loved the gardens.’

Jackson went to say something, but Mum got there first.

‘And now,’ she rushed on, waving a bejewelled hand about, ‘they’re going to be even better.’

‘How so?’ I asked, my eyes flitting between them. ‘Are you making some changes, Jackson?’

‘You could say that,’ he said tightly, clearly annoyed that he’d been forced to say as much so soon. ‘I’ve submitted plans to turn the house and estate into a luxurious country house hotel complex.’

There it was. My stomach rolled again as I imagined the workmen moving in and the character of the place being hacked out.

‘And the gardens,’ I steeled myself to ask.

‘Total remodelling,’ said Mum, looking delighted. ‘Cutting edge, modern, exciting. Jackson has already awarded your father and me the project and we want you to manage it.’

I couldn’t believe that was something that she, or Dad, thought I would want to be a part of. They were both aware that one of the main reasons I had wanted to move on when Jackson put the estate up for sale was because I couldn’t cope with the thought of it all being changed. Surely, she hadn’t forgotten that?

‘Imagine it,’ she said, looking dreamily off into the middle distance.

‘Oh, I am,’ I told her, my eyes fixed on Jackson.

‘You’d be back at Broad-Meadows and back in the family firm,’ she pressed on. ‘You’d have the best of both worlds, my darling. Everything you could possibly want.’

Except for the garden that I loved. The garden that Eloise and previous generations of her family, had spent their lives creating and perfecting. I couldn’t bear to think of it being ripped out and replaced with something contemporary and cutting edge.

‘But you seem to have forgotten that I’m very happy where I am,’ I said, turning my gaze back to Mum. ‘I’m settled here.’

‘But for how much longer?’ she asked. ‘The Winter Garden must be all but planted now, what with the opening happening so soon, and then you’re going to be twiddling your thumbs just maintaining the place. It’s hardly going to be a challenge, is it? From what I’ve seen it’s no size at all. You need to be thinking long-term, Freya, and much, much bigger.’

I knew it would be a waste of time trying to explain to her that Nightingale Square and Prosperous Place were about so much more than the size of the garden.

‘But then I’m forgetting that you’ve started something with one of the locals, aren’t I?’ she laughed, as if my feelings for Finn meant nothing. ‘You can’t really be in love with him, Freya. You’ve only been here five minutes.’

‘I think you’d better go,’ I said, standing up. ‘I’m astounded that either of you could possibly think that inviting me back to Broad-Meadows to see it all being ripped apart was something I’d even contemplate.’

‘Don’t make a decision now,’ said Jackson, following Mum through for the door. ‘Think it over.’

Exactly how dense was he?

‘We’re going to make the place great.’

‘I know you haven’t noticed,’ I snapped, following him out and feeling his previously negative effect on me dwindle to insignificance, ‘but it already is. Now, you found your own way in here, so I’m sure you can find your own way out.’