When the Fruit is Ripe it Will Fall…

Xanthe was not a gardener. That’s not to say that she didn’t appreciate a beautiful garden. It was just someone else’s job to get it looking like a welcoming oasis. She didn’t mind paying for that service, particularly as it was supplied by the pleasing and capable Ben Johnston of Johnston’s Gardening and Landscaping Services.

EXPERT

No, it’s not what you might think it is, well not entirely, it is way more complex and subtle than that. Xanthe Collins was a very reclusive and shy woman and Ben was a gentle and understanding man. Ben had abundant patience with Xanthe’s incessant and sometimes silly questions about his various choices regarding the flowers, fruit and vegetables he chose to incorporate into the garden’s design.

It was a matter of pride for Ben that not only should the garden look good which of course it should, but it was a practical supplier of quality produce that Xanthe , or at least Mrs Hannah a neighbour of Xanthe’s could use.

UNCARING

Xanthe lived on frozen dinners and looked as well as she did due to genetic good fortune rather than any effort she expended on eating a healthy diet.

It had taken 4 months or more of weekly visits as Ben slowly and carefully plotted the gardens layout. He was mindful of making it as user friendly as possible too, so although it irked him,he did factor in some artificial turf. He was most proud of the swathe of beautiful fruit trees he transplanted almost fully grown, as they were beginning to bear fruit. There were apple trees, lemon and orange trees and the most prolific of all, a pear tree.

CONNECTION

Equally slowly but just as surely, he began to draw Xanthe out of herself. He had no agenda at all but had a nagging feeling of familiarity when he first met her, which he couldn’t quite understand. Xanthe responded to his vibration by paying attention to another human being for the first time in years. But more important changes were happening.

SPRING

Over the months the garden began to bloom and the trees became heavy with fruit. Xanthe began to care about Xanthe… she bothered to wash her clothes more regularly and got someone in to style her hair. She wasn’t poor in financial terms as she had been given a pretty large inheritance, but she hadn’t cared enough to spend the money on anything other than the garden.

JOB DONE

The day eventually arrived that Xanthe didn’t realise she was dreading. The garden was finished. It had been created in such a way that the ongoing maintenance could easily be managed by Xanthe alone, and any excess produce she could hand over the fence to Mrs Hannah. Ben did not need to return.

Xanthe felt great sadness about this, without being truly able to articulate why. She had never told Ben how much she had appreciated him, and not just his work. She felt however that she couldn’t explain without it being open to misinterpretation. She couldn’t really pin down the feeling herself. She was also aware that his work was done there, he had a great deal more work to be getting on with elsewhere. She knew she could not interfere with that. There was no reason really for him to pass by her home again.

But she had an idea that a gift, something neutral but had been thought about would be acceptable.

APPRECIATED

She fired up her ancient oven, blew the dust off her old recipe books.

When Ben came by for the last time to leave the final invoice in the letter box, he was surprised but delighted to find sitting on the low wall next to the letterbox, a glass dish wrapped in clingfilm…. Inside was a pear crumble and a note.. “when the fruit is ready it will fall… into a new chapter. Thank you for helping me get there Ben.

Xanthe