âYouâre certainly a worker, Iâll say that for you!â Then his eyes fell to my shoes and he chuckled. âHope you donât get into trouble!â
I bit my lip. Oh no, my shoes were a real mess. I hadnât meant to get so carried away. I knew Iâd have to take them off and hold them under the tap in the loos and wipe them off with paper hand towels like I had done last time.
âIâm not going to be here after school,â Stan went on, âso I brought these photos to show you, on the off-chance youâd be here now.â
âOh, great!â I put my spade down and pulled off my gloves.
âHere we areâ¦â
He took them out one at a time and handed them to me. âThere, you can see this was a real working garden, canât you?â
The first picture was black and white, but Stan was right â it looked so different from the bare piece of land we were standing on now. There were rows and rows of tall vegetables.
âThis next one was taken in winter. About this time of year actually. See, everythingâs thriving all the same.â
It was true. I could just about make out broccoli and sprouts, leeks and onions and one I wasnât sure about. âWhatâs that, Stan?â
âThatâs swede. I used to love a bit of mashed swede. It went a long way in the kitchen, too.â He handed me the last picture. It was in colour, and I gasped at the green that looked so brilliantly bright after the black and white. âThis was taken just before that headmistress â Mrs. Cape, that was her name â decided to knock it on the head altogether and bring in all the veggies rather than growing any of our own. Sad day for me. I loved working this garden, I can tell you.â
I nodded as I carried on staring at the photo, and thought I could imagine exactly how poor Stan must be feeling now.
âAh well, there you are,â he went on. âThatâs life. Iâm way past retirement age and Iâve been lucky that Miss Carmichael has kept me on to do her bits and bobs. Iâll be sad to finally leave the place for good, come spring.â
âYou mean, youâre leaving at the end of this term?â
âWell before that, actually. Half-term. Just a few more weeks to go. No need for a gardener any more. Miss C has gone crazy-paving mad, so thereâs only a few tubs and a bit of lawn round her place, and she seems to keep on top of that herself.â
âOh dear.â I wished I was a grown-up at that moment, because I felt such a wave of sorrow for Stan and I wanted to say the right thing to help make him feel better. âIâm going to see Miss Gerard, you know, and Iâm going to ask her about having more than just this little herb garden. And when it looks like it used to look, Iâll ask if I can invite you to come and see!â
âSo, thatâs your plan, is it?â chuckled Stan. âWell Iâm glad youâre full of spirit, because youâll need it. Nothing against the school in general, but I doubt youâll get past Miss Gerard. Sheâs a tough one.â He shook his head sadly.
I thought about Emily Peters and how proud she would be if I brought her vegetable garden back, and I knew at that moment that I would definitely be brave and face Miss Gerard. Iâd be doing it for Emily and for Stan, but also for myself.
Stan and I said goodbye to each other and I asked if heâd be there the next day but he said he only did a few hoursâ work each week at Silver Spires and he probably wouldnât be back till the following Monday.
âIâll come and find you after school,â he told me. Then he looked at his watch. âArenât you going to be late for lessons?â
I checked the time on my own watch and nearly had a heart attack. Iâd been so absorbed with the photos and talking to Stan that Iâd done it again. Iâd managed to miss
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