THE PERFUME GARDEN (a short story for the summer)

As she left the motorway having driven down from Amsterdam in her new car, onto the island, suddenly everywhere seemed familiar. Having had a few busy days since she arrived at Schiphol Airport she was now on the way to a house that had been her home for many years.

The island looked the same, even though it was 7 years since she had left. The same road, only two lanes had never been widened despite the accidents that regularly used to occur there. At the next traffic lights she turned off right onto the sub-road, which lead to the village. Passing the windmill, which looks exactly as it did all those years ago. It looked tinier than she remembered and then on through the tiny hamlet. Certainly there were new houses, the old supermarket had been converted into a house and some of the small cottages joined to one another to make larger homes. As she approached the harbour gates and saw the view across the water, which had been put there in 1953 after the worst flooding ever in that region, she turned off and took the small road that lead to her house along the shores of the lake. Well they called it a lake but it was really the sea, especially now as the sluices to the open sea were regularly open and for the first time in more than 70-odd years, there were tides once more.

The house of course looked just as she remembered it. Smaller she thought, but the roof was still covered in lichens and moss. The house had a face; the two windows and the solar panels on the roof, made it look almost human. The trees and shrubs around the fences of the garden, were much much bigger now and she would definitely have to employ some landscape gardeners to help tidy it all up. Luckily one of the local people had kept the lawns mowed regularly in the summer.

She opened the gates and heard the familiar sound of the bell that hung on them and parked the car (which was filled to capacity) on the drive.

The key to open the shutters was stiff and it took some effort to raise them at the front door. It had been such a long time since anyone had been there. Eventually with a bit of effort, the key turned and they rolled up slowly and creaking all the way. She opened the door and the house smelt stale and musty. To be expected of course, there had not been any fresh air inside for a long time.

First of all she opened all the shutters and flung the windows open everywhere allowing the salty sea air to blow into the house. The spiders had had a hay-day there were cobwebs everywhere. First of all she unpacked the car and left everything in the hall way and decided first of all to run all the appliances, like the washing machine and dishwasher to clear away the smell of stale water and to rinse through the pipes. Then she changed her clothes and set to giving the house a major spring clear, the dust everywhere was thick and it took several hours before the house looked a bit more presentable. Amazing actually where all the dust came from considering there had been no movement inside for so long. Pleased with her efforts, dusting everywhere and hoovering, she then took a long shower and decided the next thing to do was to make up the bed with the new bed linens she had brought with her in one of the many bags still standing in the hallway.

Then she drove off to the next village, noticing again that there had been a lot of new houses built here and there, but still those wide open fields, planted with potatoes and onions. In the spring the fields would be full of colourful tulips, miles and miles of colour and just as they were at their best the heads would be chopped off and the bulbs harvested for export all over the world. It was strange being back in the supermarket she used to visit all those years ago, still the same name but so many new products and so much convenience food. She filled her trolley with fresh fruit, vegetables, cold meats, eggs, butter, yoghurt, bread and milk and then of course bottles of sparkling water and just managed to balance a box of her favourite wine on top of the huge pile.

Back at home she unpacked everything having emptied all the cupboards completely and cleaning the fridges. Why she had ever had three fridges in total she was not sure, but in the old days, she used to do a lot of catering and held large parties in the garden and three was actually never enough. Once everything was in its place, she rinsed the kettle and filled it with water for tea.

She got out the garden chairs and table from the shed, having had great difficulty to open the lock. As it was early June the roses were in full bud. A few more days and then they would burst into bloom. They were much bigger and more mature now and rambling all across the fences. She settled down with her favourite tea, Earl Grey with lemon and a biscuit (even though she knew she shouldn’t but she felt like something sweet after so much hard work in one day)!

That evening having had a simple supper she fell into bed and felt exhausted. Not surprising really she had been on a long flight back into the country she had suddenly left all those years ago and then spent days organizing things, buying a new car and luckily the one she wanted was actually available in the showroom and once the number plates were ready and registered it was all ready for her.

During the night she was awake and heard the familiar sounds of the house talking to her. The wooden floors made a creaking sound as they cooled in the night. She thought about its ‘funny face’ and talking too, people would think she was mad if she said.

The next morning she woke to another beautiful sunny day. The sky was completely clear and brilliant blue, not a cloud to be seen. The gulls screeching and they glided through the early morning skies and she realized how much she had missed that sound. The sound of the sea, the waves and the salty smell in the air. The lake or sea that separated her island to the next one was one of the largest in Europe. Made up from several small archipels, where horses and cattle grazed, dipping their toes into the cool salty water on hot summer days. Lots of seals lay lazily in the sun on the shores and porpoises were seen regularly on the water.

Over the next few days she unpacked and generally settled herself in again. Called in on one of two friends here and there who were all very surprised to see her. She had dinner at the local restaurant and because it was quiet and not many customers talked on until very late telling her friends what she had been up and why she had decided to come back.

In the meantime the gardeners had worked wonders in the garden, bringing it back to its former glory. The roses she planted all those years ago were now well established and festooning across the fences. The lilac trees were so established now and full of blooms, deep purples and white. Their scent was heady. They reminded her of her grandmother, it was her favourite flower.

It was about three weeks later, one morning she was sitting in the garden with her large cup of cappuccino, when she heard a car drive into the private road. It stopped and parked and she heard the door being shut. Then the sound of the bell on her gate as it was opened and the large copper bell that hung by the door being rung.

She got up and walked to open the door seeing the shape of a man behind the door and her heart suddenly started to beat faster, it looked familiar.

As she opened the door, there he was, just standing there. She was shocked, she had not expected to see him but obviously word had got out that she was back and in fact she knew instinctively if she was honest that he would come.

He looked older, and more than likely he was thinking the same about her too, his hair which was only just starting to grey at his temples was now grey all over, but it suited him and those intense blue eyes were just as she remembered. She offered her hand, which he took and placed it to his lips, kissing it softly. The same sensuous lips she knew all too well.

She asked him to come in and a sudden moment she felt awkward in his presence. It had been a long time. She had just left, not offered any explanation why and she knew he had never understood. Despite many attempts on his part to contact her, she had never opened any of his emails, it was all part of her plan, to leave and forget. There were too many memories, some wonderful almost too wonderful and some painful. She had literally banned him from her thoughts, it was easier that way, and she did not have to face the fact that she had left him so suddenly and why.

She watched, as his eyes looked around the room, which had not changed at all over the years, the same paintings hung on the walls and to break the silence she asked if he would like coffee. ‘Yes please,’ he said and she prepared a tray, not having to ask him either what coffee he would like, sugar or not, she just knew and he carried the tray out in the garden for her. He was like that charming and courteous and so well mannered and she had missed that a lot. Actually she had missed him too and more than she was willing to admit right now she realized as she studied his face. His hands were just as she remembered, long fingers, sensuous but strong; his arms covered with freckles just like hers.

He broke the silence and said: ‘Were you going to tell me that you were back?’

‘Of course eventually,’ she replied, not actually sure if she would have of not.

So much had happened since she had seen him.

Over coffee the conversation got easier even though she was careful what she talked about, but he kept the flow going and told her about the things that had happened over the years. Kids grown up and married now, families of their own, retired from his work (she never imagined every he would have been able to do that) and where he lived now.

She knew that eventually the inevitable questions would come but he did not pressure her and instead asked her if she had time to have lunch with him today. It had been a long time, he told her, since he had been to this part of the coast.

She cleared away the coffee tray and freshened up in the tiny bathroom and then locked the house and got into his car. He still had a large luxurious car, leather seats and a dashboard full of gadgets.

‘What do you fancy to eat?’ he asked and the only thought that went through her mind was how much she actually still ‘fancied’ him. Ageing had been kind to him giving him an even more attractive appearance. Actually the word she was actually looking for was extremely good looking still. Everyone was attracted to him; she had really never grown used to the looks he got everywhere he went.

They arrived at the beach and the place they had been to so many times before. It had been modernized a lot but that same view across miles and miles of almost white sandy beaches, the sandbanks in the distance and that beautiful blue water. The sea was quite calm today. In the far distance the huge sea tankers waiting to come into the harbour at Rotterdam and the new industrial area, which had been built on, reclaimed land from the sea.

Over lunch of freshly caught fish, they chatted on and drank the wine he knew she loved most of all. The wine made it easier for her to relax and slowly she began to tell him how her life had been, what she had been doing and the reason for coming home after all these years.

When they had finished eating and the plates had been cleared away he ordered more drinks from the waitress. Then suddenly he took her hands in his and looked intensely into her eyes.

‘I still love you, you know, I always have and always will’, he said. She felt a sensation move right down her spine. Those eyes were so powerful and mesmerizing. His fingers played with hers almost waiting and expecting her to say the same, but she kept silent. She did not know why, it was all just a bit overwhelming, she had come home and was just getting used to being back and then all of a sudden he had come. She was pleased to see him for sure, but at the same time she felt a bit apprehensive that she could easily fall in love with him all over again. She had banished such thoughts from her mind completely over the past years and within less than a single day, she was she felt out of control all over again. But to be honest, had she ever stopped loving him really?

They walked along the shoreline on the way back to his car. He laughed when she kicked off her slippers and walked into the water, getting the edge of her dress wet in the gentle waves. She turned back and smiled at him, it just felt all a bit too easy. But she had enjoyed the lunch and on the way back she asked if he wanted to stay for dinner too. They stopped at the local butchers, one she used to visit frequently and the same man was still there. She ordered steaks (his favourite) and some other meat, which she would put into the freezer.

When they got back, they sat quietly in the garden, just talking in general and then she said she would have to clean the old BBQ if he wanted her to grill them on it. In the end, he cleaned it for her, checked the gas bottles were OK whilst she prepared a mixed salad and put some pre-baked bread into the over. The herbs in the garden were completely overgrown, but she managed to collect enough to make a delicious herb butter and then set the table under the arch of the roses in the garden. By the time the sun was nearly setting the entire garden was filled with a heady scent of the white rambling roses that were tumbling in all directions across a heavily laden trellis. The branches nearly touching the ground they were so overgrown and full. But the scent it was intoxicating.

She lit several candles in lanterns and the whole garden looked magical. The ice bucket was filled and a bottle of champagne chilling and she was glad that she had been so thorough over the past weeks filling in her larder and wine rack.

The smell of fresh bread wafted from the oven and he grilled the steaks perfectly and they sat down and enjoyed the meal in the balmy evening air. The sky had gone dark, filled with million of bright sparkling stars and a new moon was visible too.

She felt happy in his company and she knew that he felt the same. After they had cleared away and he had poured them both a glass of whisky and added a large number of ice cubes, she realized that she was going to ask him to stay. He couldn’t drive now after the champagne and now the whisky and actually it was nearly midnight. It just seemed the right thing to ask and he said: ‘are you sure, I don’t want you to feel that I am rushing you at all? I had only planned to come and see you and have lunch’.

It had been a lovely day and she had enjoyed his company and she wondered should she make up the spare bed, ridiculous, they had slept together for a long time. Eventually she could only ask if he wanted her to or not, but he just rolled his eyes, a sign which she knew so well which meant, no of course not!

As they both climbed into the freshly made bed (which she had done that morning quite by chance) she nestled up close to him, putting her head on his shoulder. As she turned her head slightly to look at him, she felt his lips on hers, a tender kiss, passionate but soft and she knew the sex would be inevitable. She wanted him to make love to her. They knew one another’s bodies so well and how to bring one another to ecstasy in moments. His body was still muscled and slim and she was actually glad she had taken care of hers too over the years.

It felt good as he entered her and moved in a steady rhythm, and in the moments of passion she realized that despite everything she had done over the last few years, leaving, forgetting him, all was in the distant past now she had come back.

She told him that of course she still loved him, always had. They agreed not to dwell on the why’s and how’s of the past, after all neither of them could change anything. There really was no reason for recrimination. No reason for regrets, it had been as it had been, but now she was back and he had come and the only thing and final thought she had before she lapsed into a deep sleep, that was all that mattered.

The next morning he brought her tea in bed, and made love to her again.

Then it was time to talk about practicalities and after a breakfast in the garden, he drove over to his house to collect some things.

She sat in the garden and dozed off after such a perfect day and night as well. Her dreams were vivid and busy; he was in all of them. How could she have ever thought about leaving, being silent for so long, destroying everything that they had and she couldn’t even remember the reason why clearly anymore.

The days passed by, each day was beautiful, bright blue cloudless skies and they slipped into the same comfortable routine they had had previously. Often they would go out in the car, either his or hers, driving along the miles of coastline and they would stop and eat whenever they felt like it.

Life was just perfect and she would have not wanted it any other way. He was the true love of her life and the only thing that mattered now was that he felt the same and they were together once more.

That summer was one of the best on record, each and every day perfect in every way. Most mornings he would be up earlier, make breakfast on a tray for them both and come upstairs and bring the newspaper. He did not read it very often, they would talk about things and more than often he would slide back into bed beside her and make love to her.

He was such a passionate lover and she never tired from his touch. In fact she never tired from his company. Often she would lay awake at night, when her mind was churning and ask herself, why had she ever left, how could she have lived without him for such a long time.

In fact he was the man with whom she felt the most comfortable with, there was never a lull in their conversations, but they had their moments of silence too. He put up a hammock in the garden, suspended between the trees and often he would go and lie in it and she would lean back on his chest, his arms around her and he would read her stories. They sounded familiar, she liked their style, but just the sound of his voice was so relaxing and sometimes she would fall into a deep sleep, feeling totally protected from everything.

That summer they spent most of the time outdoors, soon the leaves would turn and they would be forced indoors by the autumn winds, which blew across the island. Much stronger at this time of year and definitely cooler and then they would light the log fire in the room.

One morning as he went to fetch the newspaper, he met someone outside.

‘How is she today?’ the woman asked him.

‘Sometimes I think she remembers everything’, he said, his blue eyes were sad. ‘Other days she is in a world all by herself and I often wonder if she knows me or not?’

‘Yes so sad,’ the woman replied, such a waste of all that talent she had.

‘I often read her books to her’, he replied. ‘Sometimes I think she knows when she tells me she loves the stories, but other times not’.

‘She is so lucky to have you’, the woman said.

‘I always loved her right from the first moment we met’, our love story was magical’, he replied. ‘True love like ours will never die!’

‘No I am sure’ the woman replied and continued to walk along with her trolley.

‘There will never be anyone like her for me’ he said and collected the paper from the usual place.

Alzheimer’s was such a cruel disease she thought, especially for the partner and he was such a charming good-looking man.