‘That sounds a trifle unusual.’
‘That’s what we thought. It’s quite colourful,’ Kate fibbed. ‘We were hoping Dr Kingston might have an explanation.’
‘I’m sure he will. Good luck, Kate, I’ll pass on your message.’
Kate slowly put down the phone, and wiped a hand across her brow. ‘You’ve done it now, old girl,’ she muttered.
Not more than thirty minutes later, Kate was at the desk totalling the previous month’s sales when the phone rang. She picked it up after the first ring.
‘Sheppard’s Pie Antiques, how may I help you?’ she said in a breezy voice.
‘Are you Kate Sheppard?’
‘Yes.’
‘This is Lawrence Kingston. I’m responding to your call to Molly Chapman at English Gardening.’ His voice was deep and mellifluous, each word carefully but unaffectedly articulated. It fairly boomed out with an authority that took Kate off guard.
‘Oh. Yes. Thank you so much for calling. Awfully kind of you.’ She hoped she didn’t sound as nervous as she felt. After all, she had indirectly told him a white lie – in this case, a three-coloured lie. Somehow, she would have to explain that. She swallowed and continued. ‘Well, we – my husband and I, that is – would like to ask your advice. I read your article on roses, which was excellent, by the way. That’s what prompted my call –’
Kingston politely interrupted. ‘I see. So, young lady, what’s all this twaddle about a three-coloured rose?’
Kate felt her cheeks begin to flush. She was glad that he couldn’t see her face. ‘Well, in all honesty, doctor,’ she said, hoping that the salutation was correct, ‘it’s not a three-coloured rose – it’s only one colour,’ she gulped. Although she had rehearsed what she was going to say she knew she wasn’t getting off to a very good start. She prayed he wouldn’t just hang up on her. ‘Actually, we’d like to show it to you. It’s quite extraordinary, believe me.’
‘So far, you’re not making much sense, young woman. Has this really got to do with roses?’
‘Yes – yes, it has. But not – not an ordinary rose,’ she stammered. ‘It’s most certainly not one that’s in any of the books. When you see it, you’ll know why.’
‘Do you know how many calls like this I get every month? Exasperating, so-called gardeners wanting to know what kind of roses they have growing at the bottom of their precious little gardens alongside their gnomes.’
Kate was taken aback by his churlish comment. ‘We’re not like that, at all. We have over two hundred roses in a very large garden in Wiltshire and I’m serious about gardening. And we don’t have any gnomes,’ she added huffily. To her surprise, she heard Kingston chuckle.
‘I apologize,’ he said, his voice now more cordial. ‘Sometimes I get a touch too testy. Tell me more about this mysterious rose of yours then.’
‘It is mysterious. Very mysterious, I might add.’ Kate took a deep breath. ‘I must ask you, first, to treat what I’m about to tell you, as very confidential. I must have your word on it.’
‘I don’t see any reason why not,’ Kingston complied. ‘Now you have got me intrigued.’
‘Thank you, doctor. Here’s what has happened. Yesterday, we found a very unusual rose in our garden at the house we bought recently. As I’ve already tried to convince you, it’s so unusual – and don’t laugh when I say this – it borders on the supernatural.’
She paused, trying to visualize Kingston’s expression, wondering whether she was overdoing it. He said nothing, so she pressed on.
‘I can assure you, it’s a rose that’s never, ever, been seen before. And we’re not quite sure what we should do. About keeping it a secret – or letting pandemonium loose on the gardening world. I thought perhaps – well, maybe you could take a look at it and then help us decide how we should proceed. We don’t mind paying for your time, of course.’
‘I do hope this is not some kind of prank? And I certainly hope it’s not one of those frightful lavender-coloured jobs.’
‘No. Please believe me. It’s not – on both accounts.’
‘Then, what makes this particular rose so remarkable, might I ask?’
‘I’d prefer not to have to tell you on the phone. I’d rather you saw it for yourself.’
Kate heard Kingston inhale deeply, followed by an indecisive, ‘Hmmm.’
Kate adopted a change of tone, trying to walk the line between being too reticent and too forceful. ‘Please believe me. If you can come down and take a look at it, I swear you won’t be disappointed. In fact, if you can honestly tell me that your time has been wasted, my husband and I will pay you five hundred pounds and that will be the end of it. What do you think?’
‘Well, Mrs Sheppard, you certainly present an intriguing proposition. I assume that this rose bush is in a place where it can’t be seen? I mean by the public.’
‘Right. It’s in a walled garden. Well hidden.’
‘Where is it? In Wiltshire, you say?’
‘Yes, in Wiltshire, near Marlborough.’
‘Who else knows about it?’
‘As far as we know, only the two of us – and now, you, of course.’ Kate was starting to feel like a prime suspect being pumped by Chief Inspector Morse. ‘We’re being very careful to keep this a well-guarded secret. You’ll see why. I’m not exaggerating when I say it could be the botanical discovery of the century. Maybe of many, many centuries.’
‘Very well, Mrs Sheppard, you’ve convinced me. When I have a day free I’ll come down and take a look at your rose.’
‘Could you come on Saturday?’ she said, knowing that she was pushing her luck. ‘I’d like Alex – that’s my husband – to be here.’
Kingston asked her to wait while he consulted his diary. ‘Saturday – let me see – I think I can, as a matter of fact,’ he replied. They agreed on a time. ‘Give me your name again – and your address. Better give me a phone number, too.’
Kate provided Kingston with the information. Learning that he would be driving down from London, she gave him directions. Then she bade him goodbye and put the phone down.
‘Whew,’ she whistled. It had gone even better than she’d hoped. A smile broke across her face as she picked up the phone again to call Alex and give him the good news.
Chapter Four
I long to see the blue flower.I can’t get rid of the idea, it haunts me.I never felt like this before.It’s as if I dreamed it years agoOr had a vision of it in another world,For who would be so concernedAbout a flower in this world?
Novalis
‘Hello, darling,’ Kate said, looking up as Alex walked into the kitchen, throwing his jacket and briefcase on a chair. He looked tired. He was home later than usual – nearly eight o’clock. Fridays were often like that now.
‘Hello, Kate.’ He walked over and gave her a quick kiss.
She saw him glance at the oversized book open on the table in front of her.
‘New recipe?’ He closed his eyes and inhaled loudly through his nose. ‘Let me guess – we’re having caviar and blinis, seared foie gras with truffles, and pheasant under glass?’
‘Not even close. It’s something far better.’
‘Better?’
‘Yes, I found some information I think you’ll find very interesting – about our new rose.’
‘Really?’
‘Yes, I got it at the library.’ Kate riffled through the pages of the big book to the chapter where she had placed a marker. Though Alex was looking at it upside down, she knew it wouldn’t be difficult for him to read the bold title: The Ultimate Rose Book.