The End of Summer

There was a noticeable nip in the air. George took in the morning as he warmed his hands around his steaming flask of tea. He started to run through his jobs for the day that were on his imaginary to do list. Sow the cabbage seeds in his patch, water Betty’s roses, pick a few pears from the pear tree for his crumble for Lily on Sunday. It was good that he finally got a spot at the allotment. He had been waiting a very long time and his window box on his third floor tenement flat wasn’t enough to keep him busy.

George scanned the vegetable patches from his bench outside the shed. Edward had just arrived. He waved and said good morning. Edward waved and said hello back. They didn’t talk much but it was pleasant to see a familiar face. George had never been particularly interested in gardening. Mainly because he and Betty never had a garden of their own, but also because it seemed like an awful lot of effort for very little reward. There was a time when George was so busy with keeping the garage running and making ends meet, that having any hobbies at all would have been virtually impossible. Now the days seemed much longer. He didn’t fill the days. He did just enough to make the time pass.

He thought that Betty would have liked his plot at the allotment. All the greenery and the flowers and the people coming and going. She was a great cook and he was sure that she would have been able to whip up a Sunday roast with the potatoes he had grown. George tries to forget the last few years they had together. She became forgetful. Forgetting keys. Forgetting to turn the running tap off in the kitchen. Forgetting names and faces. Betty wasn’t Betty anymore.

Instead, he remembers her putting on her uniform and heading to the hospital. Coming home and telling him about her day. First time mothers, the baby names, the gossip from the other nurses. And how she was with the grand kids. Baking butterfly cakes on rainy afternoons after school when their mother got stuck at the office. Taking them to the toy shop and spending far too much money on them. He used to get so angry, as they couldn’t really afford to buy them anything. They made an exception for their birthdays. But seeing the kids so happy, made Betty happy and George couldn’t stay cross for long.

George was looking forward to this weekend. Lily, his youngest granddaughter, was going to come and visit him for the day on Sunday. The other grandchildren sent birthday cards and saw him at Christmas, and that was always nice. He understood they were busy. But Lily liked to stay in touch and drop in now and again to keep an eye on things. George sometimes wondered why she bothered. She was a smart, young woman in her final year of university. Something to do with Literature. Or was it Art History? George could never quite remember exactly what but he was impressed either way. But surely she could have more exciting things planned for her weekend. A trip to the pub with her friends or maybe even a boyfriend. He was worried that maybe she came to visit to make sure he wasn’t starting to forget things, like her grandmother. Or maybe she felt guilty. George tried not to dwell on it too much. She was going to prepare a toad in the hole with mash and peas and that was all that mattered.

George finished the last of his tea, stood up and stretched. He had better get to work. The allotment seemed to have gotten quieter over the last few weeks. The cooler weather must have been deterring people. It was September next week. George would get a few more jobs done before Autumn really set in.