CHAPTER SIX

Day 149? - the next day.

I leapt out of bed and peered out of the window, trying to see who was in the garden. But though I could still hear them, they were out of sight. I called down, but neither Ash nor Drew answered. I grabbed my robe and ran down the stairs into the hall. Chris was waiting for me when I got there.
“What’s going on Chris? Did I hear a man’s voice outside?”
“We need to talk, Sue. Come.” She took my arm and led me off into the dining room.

“His name’s Dwight Pennington. He works on the garden.”
“He works on the garden?” I emphasised the word ‘work’. “You mean he’s been here a while?”
She looked at me for a while before answering. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for you to find out like this. Yes. He’s been here two years.”
“Two years? How come I didn’t know? How come you didn’t tell me? How come I never saw him?…”
“It was too soon for you. Too soon after your transition. If you’d been around a man, you might not have adapted so well as you have. And we made sure he was never around when you were outside.”
I was fuming now, and in danger of losing it completely. “For fuck’s sake, Chris! Am I some kind of experiment here? Don’t I get a say?”
“Like I say. I’m sorry. If there’d been another way…”
“And we made sure?” I emphasised the ‘we’. “You mean Ash and Drew knew as well?”
Chris nodded. “Please don’t blame them though. It’s not their fault, I made them promise…”
“Fuck’s sake, Chris. How can I trust you when you’ve lied to me like that? How can I trust the girls? I don’t know, Chris. I really don’t. Fuck! I need some time! I need some time to think about all this.”
I got up from my chair and ran back upstairs to my room. I was already crying by the time I slammed the door behind me and turned the key. Throwing myself onto the bed I wept and wept until eventually, all cried out, I fell asleep.

I was woken by a gentle but insistent knock at my door. It was Ash and Drew.
Ash hopped from one foot to another, biting her lip, looking worried. “We wanted to say sorry for last night. We kind of got carried away. We didn’t mean things to go that far.”
“And we hope you’re not upset.” Drew added.
I beckoned them in.
“I think we all had a bit too much to drink.” I replied. “And once upon a time I was your skipper, so it’s my fault more than yours. I should have said no. But there’s no harm done. And if I’m totally honest, I quite enjoyed some of it.” I found myself blushing a little. “Though I don’t think we should make a habit of it!”
Ash giggled and looked up at me. She reminded me of a puppy that had over-excitedly chewed a favourite cushion to pieces and was being told off by its owner. I couldn’t stay angry with them, although there were other things I needed to understand, especially since talking to Chris earlier.
“But there’s something else.”
“What’s that?” From having relaxed a moment ago, the girls were suddenly tense again.
I paused for a moment. I hadn’t quite got my own thoughts straight, but since speaking with Chris this morning I was more sure.
“You’ve been here before, haven’t you?”
They looked at each other, and back at me.
“What do you mean?”
“Aeaea. With Chris. There was always something I couldn’t quite put my finger on. You adjusted to being girls so easily. And you seemed comfortable here when Pete and myself were going crazy with what had happened to us. And this morning, I heard you with the gardener. And I spoke to Chris.”
“What did she say?”
“Enough to make me realise the truth.”
Ash started to cry. “Oh Sue, Sue, we’re so sorry. We never meant to hurt you. We love you to bits. You’re like our big sister now…”
She was sobbing now, and Drew continued for her.
“We just wanted to help you with the change. To make you comfortable with being Sue.”
“But you knew all the time that the gardener was here.”
They nodded. Drew was crying now as well. “C…Chris s…said it would be best…” she sobbed. “If…if it was just us girls…until…until…you got used to things…”. They stood in front of me, holding hands, wiping their eyes and sniffling. In all the time I’d known them, after everything we’d been through, I’d never seen them so upset, and it broke my heart.
“Oh, come here!” I beckoned them into a big hug. “I love you guys as well, you know? And I’d be so proud to be your big sister…”
We stood there for a while, the three of us, in our embrace.
“So this gardener friend of yours then. When do I get to meet him?”

He was in the kitchen garden at the back of the house, digging. As we walked across to him , our footsteps crunching on the gravel path, he turned to face us. He was tall, maybe a shade over six feet, with a slim build, wearing a khaki t-shirt and a well worn pair of chinos. He thrust the spade into the soil and turned to face us. He wore a pair of Rayban Wayfarer sunglasses and my first thought was how incongruous they looked - too American and urbane for the setting we were in and besides, it was a cloudy day.
“Hi Penn.”
“Hey Ash, Drew, how’s it going?” He flashed a broad smile, beaming white against his chocolate skin.
“We’d like you to meet Susan.”
He raised himself up straight, almost to attention. “Dwight Pennington Jr. at your service, miss. But all my friends call me Penn.” He smiled again, and held out a hand. But the hand was directed about a foot or so to my left. And he was not looking directly at me, but somewhere off over my shoulder. I understood the sunglasses now. He was blind.

I must have had a million questions to ask him, but before I had the chance he proffered his hand again.
“Would you like me to show you my garden?”
I looked at the girls. They smiled and shrugged. “We need to get back to the kitchen. We’ll see you later.”
I looked back at Penn. “Sure. That would be nice.” I took his hand, and he led me along one of the gravel paths that criss crossed the vegetable beds.

We must have walked for over an hour - I lost track of time. We stopped at each different plant and Penn would break off a piece of leaf and hold it for me to gauge the scent. I have to confess at first a lot of them smelt all the same to me, but Penn would describe the subtle differences and by the end of our walk I was beginning to pick them up myself. He looked in his element here - a love for the plants and the garden radiating from every pore. His blindness didn’t seem to impair him at all - if anything his enhanced sense of smell allowed him to engage with the plants in ways a normally sighted person couldn’t. His movement through the garden was elegant and effortless; he was clearly intimate with every square inch that he tended. I’d not even asked a single question of him when Drew appeared at the gate to let me know that the evening meal was ready. I turned to Penn.
“It was lovely to meet you. Thank you for showing me your garden. It’s beautiful.”
“Thank you.” He beamed with pride. “And it was lovely to meet you too.”
“We, err, I mean, it feels like there’s lots of things I’d like to talk about with you. If that’s ok.”
“I’d like that.”
“Tomorrow, then?”
“That would be perfect.”
It was only as I walked back to the house that I realised that he’d had hold of my hand the whole time that we were walking. I raised the hand he’d held to my face. It smelt of earth, grounded and solid, but full of the promise of new life.

Day 150? - the next day.

I was woken by the sun streaming in through my window. It looked like a beautiful day outside. I jumped out of bed in a markedly contrasting style to how I’d risen yesterday. Today definitely felt summery enough to wear for the first time the navy blue silk dress I’d made, and I couldn’t wait. I’d barely finished my breakfast coffee before I was out in the garden, where Penn had already made an early start.
He smiled as I approached. “Looking good! I like that blue dress you’ve got on!”
I blushed. “Oh, thanks! I made it my…hang on, how come you know what I’m wearing?”
He laughed. “Drew came out and told me a couple of minutes ago. Thought we’d catch you with that one!”
“Ah! I’m going to have to be careful with you, Mr. Dwight Pennington Jr. at your service…”
He grinned again.
“I was wondering if you’d like a walk? We can chat as we go?”
“Sounds good. Let me change out of my gardening clothes.”
We walked across the garden to the side opposite the kitchen wing. There was a small wooden door in the wall, almost hidden in ivy, and Penn went through it. On the opposite side, concealed from the garden by the height of the wall, was a small cottage, no bigger than a couple of rooms, its front porch framed by timber posts enveloped in wisteria.
“So this is where you’ve been hiding yourself away! I’d no idea this was here. It’s so pretty!” But then I remembered what Chris had said about Penn needing to be concealed from me so we didn’t meet. “I feel kind of guilty, though - I mean, we’ve been rattling around in that huge house and you’ve had to live here, just because I arrived?”
“No, it’s cool Sue. I never stayed there, even before you got here. I can’t see myself in a big grand house like that. This is plenty big enough for me. Besides, it must take you guys all your time just keeping the damn thing clean!”
He showed me inside. There was a kitchen with a small pine table off one side of the porch and I sat there whilst Penn disappeared into the other room, emerging a few moments later wearing a pair of chinos similar to the ones he’d had on, but minus the gardening stains, and a clean white t-shirt.

We set off walking as Penn told me his story. He’d been a sniper in the US army in Afghanistan and had been captured by the Taliban, who had tortured him and taken his sight. I took his hand as he spoke. I could feel him tremble as he recounted what had happened and I asked if he wanted to stop, but he insisted on continuing. Eventually he’d been freed and he’d ended up on a hospital ship, travelling back to the States, where he’d jumped overboard in an attempted suicide. When he’d come to, he was here on Aeaea with Chris. She’d looked after him these past two years, nursing him through his PTSD. He’d found some comfort and peace in looking after the garden. When he finished I didn’t know what to say so I just put my arms around his neck and held him tightly until his trembling subsided.
“Oh, Penn. I’m so, so sorry!”
He took a breath. “It’s ok. Thanks for listening. It’s not a nice story. I hope I haven’t upset you.”

We’d reached the glade in the wood where the grandmother tree lived. I sat him down against her trunk in between the roots and squeezed in next him, still holding his hand. We sat quietly for a while, listening to the sounds of the trees. After a moment he put a finger to my lips, and whispered.
“Listen. A squirrel.”
I hadn’t heard anything but a moment later my old friend with the kinked tail appeared in the clearing. He took a couple of bounds toward me and then, noticing Penn next to me, stopped.
“It’s ok, little fella. He’s friendly.” I held out my hand. I didn’t have any food for him today, but he took another couple of steps in my direction, then stopped and looked back.
“There’s two.” Penn whispered.
Sure enough, right on the edge of the clearing perched another squirrel, smaller than my friend. He held a tiny paw out towards her, as though beckoning her to join him, and she nervously stepped up alongside. They stood just a couple of feet away from me for a few moments, looking from me to Penn and then back again, before bounding back into the wood.
I giggled. “I think he’s just introduced us to his girlfriend.”

We sat quietly for a few moments.
“Penn?”
“Yeah?”
“Do you know my story.”
“Yeah. Kind of. I mean Chris would talk about you from time to time. I hope that was ok.”
“Did she tell you about what I was before I came here?”
“Yeah.”
“It doesn’t freak you out or anything. I mean, that I used to be, well…”
“No.”
We were silent again for a while. This time it was Penn who spoke.
“Sue?”
“Uh-huh?”
“Do you ever miss it? What you were before? Would you go back? If you had the chance?”
“No.” I surprised myself at how quickly and definitively I’d answered his question and felt the need to go on. “I mean, I was living what a lot of people would think was a great life. Sailing all day. Partying all night. But it was superficial. Literally. I was skimming around on the surface of the water, never putting any roots down, always on the move, always agitated, always running away from having to stop and think. I knew things weren’t right. I just wasn’t sure how. But now I feel a lot calmer. And more rooted, I guess.”
Penn nodded.
“Speaking of being rooted, if I don’t get up now I never will!” He grinned and pulled himself to his feet and then reached down to help me up too. He kept hold of my hand for a second after I’d stood.
“Sue, can I tell you something? You’ve got a beautiful voice. I love that English accent! I could listen to you all day.”
I laughed. “No-ones said that to me before!”
“And you smell pretty good too.”
I giggled. “Good job I had a bath this morning!”
“But I don’t know what you look like. Can I?” He held his hands toward me. “I mean, do you mind?…”
“No, it’s ok. Go ahead.”
I took his hands in mine and raised them either side of head.
He gently ran his fingers through my hair from my temples and over my ears.
“What colour is it?”
“Brown. Like an acorn.”
He laid his fingers softly on my forehead and across my brows. I closed my eyes and he traced the profile of my eyelids and lashes.
“What colour?” He whispered.
“Blue. Like the sky on a spring morning.”
Down my cheeks he went, across my lips, over my chin and down the side of my neck to the strap of my dress.
I found myself longing for him not to stop - to slip his fingers under the straps and ease them over my shoulders so that the dress would fall to the ground, and to continue his tactile explorations down the rest of my body, but his hands rested on my shoulders and I slowly opened my eyes.
“Thank you.” He whispered softly.
I took his hand and raised it up to my cheek, and kissed him gently in the palm, and we walked slowly back to the house.