Chapter Four
Their short walk around the perimeter of the house confirmed Jamie’s description. Much of it resembled what Kingston had seen earlier: thick stands of trees, so close together as to form a black wall; trunks, limbs and branches arching and writhing in a futile attempt to escape the strangling embrace of ivy, vines and creepers that lashed them together. It was as if the house were under siege, about to be swallowed up any day by this diabolical mass of plant life. As the light began to fade, the sight became even more menacing. For a while Jamie said nothing. Not that anything she might have said could further explain what they were looking at. After five minutes Kingston announced that he’d seen enough.
As they walked back to the house, his mind was occupied with two opposing thoughts: first and foremost, that this was without question a horticultural opportunity of a lifetime. In years to come, the gardens at Wickersham could become—as once they had been—on a par with the best. It could well be his chance to secure a place in the annals of world gardening. A chance that could also lead one day to his name being added to the list of preeminent English garden designers of the last four hundred years. Among the many was the seventeenth-century plantsman designer, John Tradescant; a hundred years later, the landscape genius of Lancelot ‘Capability’ Brown. Then, in the nineteenth century, the feisty William Robinson, whose ideas of a naturalistic, ‘cottage garden’ style became the dominant influence of the time, and one that survives to this day in many English gardens. The last century emerged with a new brilliance and the enduring designs of Gertrude Jekyll, Sir Edwin Lutyens, Harold Peto, Lawrence Johnston and Vita Sackville-West. In more recent years, Graham Stuart Thomas, Rosemary Verey, Christopher Lloyd and Penelope Hobhouse further inspired and influenced gardeners around the world.
But then there was the other side of the coin. Was he fully prepared to spend the next God knows how many months—even years—of his precious remaining time on earth dedicated to taming a jungle? He had no illusions about what it entailed and what he was going to have to sacrifice to see it through. Though their relationship was barely hours old, he had a good feeling about Jamie. She was forthright and sincere in her desire to restore the gardens and charming into the bargain. But would she be the same six months down the road? What effect would the colossal upheaval and financial drain have on her? Right now, she might think she was wealthy but did she really comprehend the kind of expenses she was going to be faced with? The upkeep of the estate and the enormous tax burden alone must be a daunting figure, but add to that the costs of refurbishing the house and a major garden restoration and the numbers would be staggering.
From his impression so far, Jamie didn’t seem the type to press him for a quick decision. Nevertheless it would be expected of him as a potential employee, and rightfully so, to give some indication of his thoughts and intent. She would realize, of course, that he couldn’t make a final decision until he knew what fee or salary she had in mind. He was already thinking that, if it was at all reasonable, he was prepared to conditionally accept her offer. He sighed. It was a huge decision.
Jamie picked up on the sigh. ‘Quite a mess, isn’t it?’
‘Certainly is,’replied Kingston.
At the front door of the house Jamie stopped and turned to him. ‘Tell me honestly. What were you thinking back there?’
‘I was thinking of Heligan,’ he fibbed.
‘Heligan?’
‘A garden and a house in Cornwall, not unlike yours, actually. Maybe a shade larger.’
‘Tell me.’
‘It’s a remarkable story. Just before World War I the gardens were abandoned and in the ensuing decades became completely buried. They would probably have been lost forever if not for two men, Tim Smit and John Nelson. By a stroke of luck, in the early nineties they were shown the land where the gardens once existed. There was a problem, though. It was all but inaccessible. The land had been literally consumed, buried by rampant growth and rotting with the decay of almost eighty years. From that moment they began a quest, not only to restore the gardens—as you’re doing—but also, as it turned out, to resurrect a lost way of life. It’s one of the most fascinating garden stories of all time.’
‘Why didn’t you tell me this earlier, Lawrence?’
‘I suppose, until now, the resemblance just hadn’t struck me. But there’s no question that there are many similarities. Tim Smit wrote a book about Heligan. It’s brilliant.’
‘I’d very much like to read it. Don’t you think we should go there, too?’