Island Life

She signed as she picked up her wicker basket from beside the sink. It wasn't that she minded her little visits to the vegetable plot - just that some days, like today, she wished she had someone else to do it for her.

That feeling passed as she made her way down the garden. The sun was glinting off the sea and white clouds scudded playfully across the sky. Down here in the garden there was only a gentle breeze, just enough to rustle the rhododendron bushes. She noticed that the grass on their small lawn was getting long again. Jim would have to be bullied into getting the lawn mower out.

She passed through the arch of rambling roses and into the vegetable plot, a small walled garden some thirty feet square, open at the far end with a stunning view over a small strip of greenery to the cliffs falling down to the sea.

When they'd first arrived this had been a proper garden, all dwarf conifers and fancy heather, slightly gone to seed, complete with a stagnant pool and a heavily mildewed bench.

It hadn't taken them long to realise that the practicalities of life didn't allow for such luxuries, and together they had dug it into a vegetable patch. Nothing fancy - just the basics: potatoes, carrots, onions, cabbage and sprouts.

Jim made several attempts to build a greenhouse but they all ended in failure, sometimes due to inclement weather, but often due to Jim's ineptitude with any kind of tool - except, apparently, for the one he kept inside his trousers. Tears threatened to spring at the corners of her eyes.

She shook her head, hard, and anyone watching would have thought she was having a mild fit.

'That's it,' she whispered. 'No more reminiscing.' She felt hot and heavy, like she usually did on the day before her period started. This time the feeling wasn't going to go away the next day. Sometimes she wished that there were no such things as hormones - they only got in the way.

She spent the next ten minutes trying to find some vegetables that were edible. It was getting near the end of the season, and a lot of their produce was beginning to rot in the ground which was always wet no matter how dry the summer had been. Luckily she had stocked the freezer during the good months, so she wasn't too perturbed.

Jim wasn't going to like it though - they were definitely short of carrots. Old Bugs was just going to have to find something else to nibble on during the long winter months.

She giggled at her own double entendre, then stopped suddenly as a sudden noise rasped nearby. Yes. There it was again - a harsh scraping, as if someone was climbing on the outside of the wall.

She wasn't frightened. Not yet anyway.

'Is that you Jim?'

The noise stopped, and the garden was silent, the air suddenly heavy and oppressive.

'Come on Jim. Stop playing silly buggers. There'll be no carrots for Bugs tonight.'

Jim was always playing jokes, creeping up on her when least expected and frightening the living daylights out of her. It was something she had got used to a long time ago, and something she didn't think he'd ever grow out of, no matter how often she scolded him.

The noise started again, louder this time, and Anne started to back away, moving for the entrance, not noticing that she was trampling on the last decent patch of cabbages.

'Right. That's it,' she shouted. 'Sod you and your stupid games.'