Read Online Mulch ado about nothing by Jill Churchill - Free Book Online Page A

out of place. Or a single object misplaced by an inch. It was soothingly bland. Nothing to excite or disturb the senses. She wondered whether this represented Dr. Eastman’s taste or that of the housekeeper and her grandson.
    Shelley and Miss Winstead wandered over to where Jane was sitting, and the housekeeper provided them with pillows as well. Her bobbing presence was daunting, but once the two chairs and bench were filled with sitters, she backed away and disappeared into the house. A moment later, she reappeared with an armload of fragile-looking folding chairs for the rest of the guests.
    Joe was following Dr. Eastman and Stefan Eckert as they approached the tall, dense pines. Eastman pulled down a branch and was apparently telling Eckert something about it. Ursula was on her own, bending over to smell every clump of flowers. She was the only one with the nerve or insensitivity to actually touch any of the plants or ornaments. Arnold Waring was also on his own. Jane hadn’t realized how barrel-chested the older man was until she saw him moving about. He carefully studied each area of the yard, as if mapping it in his mind.
    When he got near Ursula, she all but grabbed him by the lapels to pontificate about something. He nodded several times and eased himself away from her, but she pursued him, still talking. Finally, in desperation, he simply turned his back on her and walked away.
    Geneva Jackson, who hadn’t been in the class this morning, had joined the group now, and she and the cardboard-stiff Charles Jones were chatting over a Hindu-type sitting stone figure.
    “Julie Jackson must be getting better,“ Shelley said, “or Geneva wouldn’t be here. I’ll have a word with her.”
    Left alone with Miss Winstead, Jane asked, “How long have you known Dr. Eastman?“
    “Since a year before he married my cousin Edwina.“
    “Oh, you’re related then.“
    “Barely, I’m glad to say.”
    Jane was fascinated by these mysterious hints. “Miss Winstead, Shelley and I were talking about going to a late lunch together after the tour. Would you like to join us?“
    “That would be lovely. You two young women seem to be old friends.“
    “We’ve lived next door to each other for twenty years.
    “That surprises me. Someone told me you grew up in a diplomat’s family. I thought you’d be used to moving from place to place.”
    She and Jane chatted a bit about Jane’s childhood, and Miss Winstead contributed that her family had traveled to some of the same cities when she was young. By the time they’d exhausted the subject, the rest of the group had finished their tour of the yard and were moving toward the side yard where they’d entered.
    Ursula was approaching Jane, who feared she was coming to help her or ask how she’d enjoyed her dinner last night. Jane fairly sprang to her feet and said to Miss Winstead that they’d better get a move on.
    “Certainly,“ Miss Winstead said, with a knowing sparkle in her eyes.

Ten

    Ursula’s garden was next. Jane dreaded seeing it.
    As they pulled up to Ursula’s house, Jane was once again surprised. The front lawn was ratty, with some almost bare spots, but Jane’s own front yard was nearly as bad. Her son Mike claimed it was because she’d overwatered and caused a fungus. He was bringing something home from the nursery to treat it. Maybe she’d share that information with Ursula. Or maybe she’d be better off keeping quiet. Ursula would probably see another dangerous conspiracy in chemical treatments of lawns.
    The house itself wasn’t too bad either, a single story that sprawled a bit. The greenhouse at the west end, which looked distinctly homemade with “found“ materials, was something of a blight. But the house itself was painted a pale green with navy trim around the windows and doors and a deep magenta front door. A fairly popular color combination lately. The windowpanes themselves were dirty and streaked, the front door had a small hole in the