The Garden Party Read Online Free PDF

perfection with every blade of grass cut to the correct length and all weeds plucked from the flowerbeds. Rather, Roy Cole’s garden seemed to Yewdall and Ainsclough to have been allowed to develop into a powerful and confident declaration of the joy of life and of nature’s bounty. It was abundant with colour provided by living things which sprang forth and bloomed in reds and blues, yellows and whites in the mid-June sun. Roy Cole’s attitude served to remind Yewdall of a man she had once met who had said, ‘What is a weed but a flower that nobody wants?’, and indeed here she noticed bees pollinating the dandelions as much as they pollinated the lupins and hollyhocks and roses. ‘Thanks for the phone call,’ Roy Cole said, ‘letting me know that you were on your way, and thanks also for telling me it was nothing for me to worry about. Montgomery also phoned, telling me you were calling on me.’
    â€˜Did he?’ Ainsclough observed the effect of a zephyr gliding across the garden, causing the flowers in the centre to sway gently for an instant, all under a vast blue sky.
    â€˜Yes . . . yes, he did. Just a courtesy call; probably didn’t want the old boy to have a seizure.’
    â€˜We would have been more sensitive.’ Yewdall relished the scent and fragrance which rose from the garden. She then explained the reason that she and Ainsclough had called upon him.
    â€˜Yes . . . yes . . .’ Roy Cole seemed to the officers to be clearly relieved when he learned the reason for their visit; his head lifted noticeably and he began to look towards the officers rather than down at his feet or to his right and towards the garden. ‘Yes, I do well remember that old job, four or five years ago now, I think. It was an interesting old job . . . a nice old job . . . dismantling took more time than the rebuilding, because it had to be dismantled brick by brick; couldn’t put a sledge hammer to it.’
    â€˜So we understand.’ Yewdall’s eye was caught by a large honey bee flitting from blossom to blossom.
    â€˜Yes.’ Cole pursed his lips. ‘Glazed Victorian bricks with coping stones on top. They were caked in soot, mind, but would have made a splendid sight when newly laid, and after a hundred years of East End soot and grime . . . well . . . really quite dull by the time we saw the wall. Leaning dangerously, but it was still glazed brick, there to be rescued.’
    â€˜Can’t carve your initials in glazed brick,’ Ainsclough prompted.
    â€˜That, and they’re longer lasting. Nice family in that house; kept us well supplied.’ Roy Cole looked upwards.
    â€˜Well supplied?’ Yewdall asked.
    â€˜With food and drink. You can fairly expect a mug of tea from householders, but that old geezer he brought us bacon sandwiches, a bowl of roast potatoes, broth in beakers. It was chilly weather, not like now, so the grub was especially well received and he talked to us like we were his equals, and him a university lecturer. He could have been a real toff with his nose well in the air, but he wasn’t. He was just like an ordinary old geezer. We appreciated that and we did our best for him; a real down to earth sort of bloke. A nice job all round that was.’
    â€˜Good to hear,’ Ainsclough spoke reassuringly, ‘but we’ve met him and he told us that he had a working-class background, which might explain why he felt at home with a team of builders.’
    â€˜I didn’t know that.’ Cole glanced at Ainsclough. ‘But he was still a decent geezer, all the same.’
    â€˜So,’ Ainsclough asked, ‘how many men did you have working on the wall?’
    â€˜Varied.’ Cole stroked his beard. ‘More on the dismantling, that’s certain, just one or two on the rebuilding. The full crew was me, Tony, Gordon, Des and Keith.’
    â€˜Could you be more specific, please?’ Ainsclough