She had woken up with a thumping headache and puffy eyes, but a couple of painkillers and breakfast with strong coffee had soon chased them away. Now she felt calm and energised, as if last night’s tears had washed away the raw edge of her hurt, enabling her to begin moving forward at last. ‘Rhiannon would love this,’ David remarked, looking round at the brightly coloured hanging baskets overflowing with the hot reds and pinks of geranium and busy Lizzies, intermingled with the bright blues of lobelia. Reaching up towards the hanging baskets, late delphiniums stood amongst a riot of orange and yellow nasturtiums, with the green heads of sedum just turning to their autumn russet. ‘Rhiannon’s idea of heaven,’ Carys agreed, with a smile. Through an archway of jasmine and honeysuckle, she glimpsed row upon row of late summer flowers, bordered by greenhouses at the far end. ‘Hi, you must be Carys.’ A woman with dark hair, caught away from her face by a green silk scarf, looked up as they stepped through the door.
