Ask Eva (15 page)

Chapter Twenty-five

I
t was Saturday, two weeks later.

‘OMG, Eva,’ said Ella. ‘Where on earth did you get that dirty old jacket? You look a total mess.’

‘Thanks a lot,’ I said, pretending to be hurt. ‘But we’re supposed to be working. And anyway – you don’t look so great yourself.’

She did a twirl so I could get a good view of her ancient old tracksuit and her flowery wellies.

‘Enough with the fashion show,’ I said laughing. ‘We need to go. Everyone will be waiting.’

When we got to Maggie’s place, Aretta and her dad were already there, along with a tall, skinny teenager who looked really like Aretta.

‘Eva, Ella, at last you’re here,’ said Aretta, when she saw us. ‘You’ve got to meet my brother, Damola. He’s come to help us.’

Damola smiled at us and Aretta’s dad put his arms around the two of them. ‘My children are back together again,’ he said.

‘Are you moving here?’ I asked Damola.

‘Yes,’ said Aretta firmly. ‘His girlfriend’s family are moving here next week, and Damola’s coming too, aren’t you?’

He shrugged. ‘I quite like Dublin, but it doesn’t look like I’m getting a choice, does it?’

‘No,’ said Aretta. ‘It’s sorted.’

‘What happened here?’ asked Ella as we went around to the back of the house. ‘It looks like a bomb landed and wiped everything out.’

‘Dad and some of his friends have been coming here every evening after work,’ I said. ‘They’ve cleared everything and taken away all the old junk.’

‘They have prepared a blank canvas for me,’ said Aretta’s dad, spreading his plan out on the patio. ‘And I can’t wait to get started on the new garden. I am so very excited about—’

Before he could finish, we heard the sound of Dad’s rattly old van pulling up at the gate. We ran back outside and saw Dad’s friend, Derek, jumping out of the van.

‘Come on, you slackers,’ he said. ‘We’ve got work to do. Help me to unload this stuff.’

Dad had to do five trips to bring all the materials we needed. When we’d unloaded the fifth vanload, we took a break.

‘Remind me again where all this stuff came from,’ said Maggie as she handed out big glasses of lemonade.

‘People are very generous,’ said Dad.
‘Sometimes all you have to do is ask. The scaffolding company donated all their old boards for the raised beds. The builders’ provider supplied the cement and the nuts and bolts and things, and a contractor I know is delivering a load of topsoil this afternoon.’

‘I don’t see any plants,’ said Ella. ‘No offence, but all this stuff we’ve unloaded looks a bit grey.’

‘Mum’s bringing the plants later,’ I said. ‘Everyone in her garden club has donated something, so there’s going to be heaps. When we’re finished, Maggie’s garden is going to be a jungle again – but in a good way.’

‘Yip,’ said Lucky, and everyone laughed.

Mum woke me early on Sunday morning. ‘Time to get up, Eva,’ she said. ‘We’ve got work to do.’

I groaned. ‘Can’t I take a day off?’

My back was still sore from the day before,
and I had blisters all over my hands from digging.

‘It’ll be worth the hard work when Maggie is able to use her garden again,’ she said. ‘And it’s just a few more hours – Dad thinks we’ll be finished by lunchtime.’

‘OK, I get it,’ I said. ‘I’m up.’

I dragged myself out of bed and pulled on my dirty old working clothes.

Gardening
, I said to myself.
I must put that on the list of jobs I don’t want to do when I grow up.

It was a lovely sunny morning. There was no sign of Ella, but Dad set Aretta and me to work, painting the new gazebo he’d made out of the old shed. It was nice sitting there in the sunshine with my friend, watching as the faded grey wood disappeared under a coat of cool blue paint.

‘Your dad looks so happy,’ I said. ‘It must be amazing to see his design coming to life.’

‘He
is
happy,’ said Aretta. ‘He hasn’t been this happy since we left Nigeria. And we got good news last night. My mother Skyped, and she thinks she has found a really nice sheltered home for her parents to live. It is just being built, but it will be ready next year. When my grandparents have settled in, my mother will be able to come here to live with us.’

‘That’s brilliant,’ I said. ‘I’m glad things are working out so well for you. I just hope …’

‘What?’ asked Aretta.

‘Well, I know your dad is totally happy now, but what’s he going to do when Maggie’s garden is finished? Is he going to go back to sitting in his room being sad and waiting for you to come home from school? I so hope that doesn’t happen. You’ve got basketball to play, and Ella and I have got used to hanging around with you in the afternoons. And how
will I ever manage maths without your help?’

Aretta smiled. ‘You don’t have to worry. I am going to have plenty of time for basketball and maths and hanging out and anything else I want to do.’

‘Good to hear it,’ I said. ‘But how come?’

‘The manager of the centre saw my father’s plans for Maggie’s garden, and he was really impressed. He asked my father to design a community garden for the waste space behind the centre. Dad’s already got heaps of ideas. It’s going to be really cool, with swings for the kids, and vegetable gardens and flowers and everything.’

‘And who’s going to build it?’ I asked.

‘That’s the great thing,’ said Aretta. ‘The manager said he will provide the materials, if my father and the other residents will do the work. Everyone’s really enthusiastic, and there’s a great atmosphere in the centre these days.’

Just then Ella showed up. ‘You’re late,’ I said.
‘What time do you think …?’

But I stopped talking when I saw her face.

‘Hey,’ I said, dropping my paintbrush and rushing over to her. ‘What’s wrong?’

‘I went to see Gigi this morning,’ she said. ‘And she had very sad news. Hannah died during the night.’

I felt tears come to my eyes as I remembered the sweet old lady who was always knitting.

I remembered how bravely she had stood up to Nurse Witch.

It was cold the last time I’d seen her, and she’d rubbed my icy fingers and promised to knit me a pair of warm gloves.

‘That’s so sad,’ I said. ‘Poor Hannah.’

‘Her son was there this morning,’ said Ella. ‘And Gigi introduced us. He asked me if I was one of the girls with the dog, and when I told him I was, he gave me a huge hug. “Mam told me all about you and your friend,” he said. ‘On my last visit, all she talked about was how
much she enjoyed your Friday night visits. You made Mam’s last days on earth so happy, and we will always be grateful for that.’

‘That’s so sweet,’ I said.

‘And it gets better,’ said Ella. ‘Hannah’s son said she had left some money to the nursing home and Sylvie want to use it to make a garden where the residents can sit on sunny days.’

‘Cool,’ I said.

I had a weird feeling of being sad and happy, all mixed up together. I hated the idea of never seeing Hannah again, but it was nice to know how much she’d enjoyed our visits with Lucky. It was nice to know that, because of Hannah, the nursing home residents would get a lovely garden to hang out in.

‘And there’s more good news,’ said Ella. ‘Sylvie has given the OK to the Pets for Good scheme, and they’re going to start visiting next week. One man is going to bring his pet
alpaca.’

‘OMG,’ I said. ‘That’s the best and craziest thing I’ve ever heard.’

‘There’s still more,’ said Ella.

I grinned. ‘I’m not sure if I can stand the excitement.’

‘Sylvie says that as soon as the garden is ready, she’d like to get a dog to live at the nursing home. We’re hoping that dog might be Pedro.’

‘This is like a fairy-tale.’ I said, ‘Everything’s working out so well.’

Aretta came over and we told her all the news.

‘I think my father would like to help with the garden design for the nursing home,’ she said. ‘He would know all the things to do to make it suitable for old people.’

‘Are you sure?’ I said. ‘I know he’s great and all that, but is it fair to ask him to do all that work when he can’t even get paid for it?’

Aretta’s dad came over and heard what I said. ‘Being paid would be good,’ he said. ‘I would like to buy nice things for my children – but that is not possible right now, so, for the moment, I am happy to help with worthy projects.’

Aretta put her arm around him. ‘That’s my father,’ she said proudly. ‘And when our asylum is granted, people will be queuing up to give him work. He will be the most famous garden designer in the whole country.’

And I had a funny feeling she was right.

Half way through the afternoon, the work was finally finished. I stood up from where I’d been planting small blue flowers, wondering if I’d ever be able to straighten my back properly again.

‘Thank you all so much,’ said Maggie. ‘I now have the most beautiful garden in Ireland. My brother is on his way over to tidy up the last
few pieces, and while he’s doing that, I would like you all to go home and wash and change.’

‘You saying we’re dirty?’ I said, stepping forward so everyone could see my clothes that were covered in blue paint, cement and general mucky stuff.