Seagulls in the Attic Read Online Free PDF Page B

day I’m in my allotment when Susie comes by with a few more leek plants someone’s given her which she can’t use. I show off my hens, my new homemade cold frame. ‘I’ve bought some lettuce seeds,’ I burble with excitement. ‘I can’t wait to sow them in the cold frame tomorrow.’
    ‘They’ll be doing nicely there. But remember, my bird, once they begin to grow, take the top off that frame in the morning if it’s going to be a really sunny day so they don’t shrivel and die of the heat. Then back on in the evenings for those cold spring nights.’
    ‘Thanks, Susie. You’re a star.’
    She shrugs this off and turns to take a proper look at my garden. ‘Tessa, what on earth is that ?’
    ‘What?’
    ‘That white stuff. All over that part of the garden.’
    ‘Oh, that’s the fleece.’
    ‘Fleece?’ she looks perplexed. Maybe there’s something about gardening I know that she doesn’t, thanks to Doug.
    I try not to sound smug as I explain. ‘You see, even though peas are the first seeds that can go into the ground because they’re quite hardy, there’s still a chance of night frost. So it’s best to put some fleece over them to protect them.’
    She’s staring at me as if I were a madwoman, ‘Who told you to put sheep’s wool down?’
    I’m beginning to feel something is not quite right. ‘It’s fleece. Sheep’s wool is their fleece, right? It was Doug, you know, works up at Daphne and Joe’s farm. Said the peas could do with some fleece over it for protection.’
    Susie is grinning before I even finish my explanation. I ask, ‘Was Doug having me on? Aren’t you supposed to put fleece on your garden?’
    She has to catch her breath before she can answer for by now she’s giggling like crazy, ‘No, my bird, Doug was absolutely right about the fleece. The thing is, gardening fleece does not come off sheep. It’s a roll of thin fleecy material. You get it in gardening or farming shops, not from sheep.’ At this she has to sit down she is laughing so hard.
    As usual Susie’s laugh is infectious and it’s not long before I start giggling too. We flop down on the warm grass by my new cold frame and cackle like a couple of crows, tears streaming down our faces. I look up when we’ve just about exhausted ourselves to see Edna and Hector staring at us over the gate that leads from their garden to the allotment field. ‘Oh, hello, don’t mind us, I just did the dumbest thing,’ I begin.
    Edna stops me, ‘Don’t explain, m’dear, please. And don’t stop. Hector and I do so love to see young folk enjoying themselves.’
    ‘We certainly do,’ Hector adds. ‘Please carry on.’
    But of course when someone tells you to go on laughing hysterically, it’s practically impossible to do so. Susie and I give them apologetic smiles, mumble something about getting onand get up quickly, wiping grass and loose dirt from our clothes. Edna and Hector look disappointed, as if someone has turfed them out of the cinema in the middle of a favourite film.
    ‘Please,’ I say to Susie before she goes. ‘Please, please, please don’t tell Doug. Anybody but Doug. He’ll never let me hear the end of it.’
    Susie promises, but a few days later I’m in my garden again when Doug stops by. He too is guffawing as he looks over at the sheep’s wool covering my peas. ‘Your veggie garden do be looking like one of them weird displays I hear tell about over at St Ives, that Tate place. Mebbe you should be charging admission, my lover.’
    ‘Susie told you, did she?’ I ask him.
    ‘Nah, my handsome, ’twere not Susie. Don’t rightly recall who told me, as all the village was talking about it last night in the pub. Your garden’s not exactly hidden, y’know.’ I take his point. He goes on, ‘So are you going to get it off and get some proper fleece? Nights still might get pretty cold, if you ask me.’
    I stand up straight, trying to get back at least some shred of dignity. ‘The kind of fleece