Chapter 3 - in which Anna gets the hang of things
I’ve never had to keep a secret before. Sure, there have been secrets – but nothing ever on this scale. I thought back to what I thought I had seen in the underground chamber, the rows and rows of tables, and I knew I wasn’t completely deluding myself – I’m not that stupid. I had little doubt in my mind that the scaly, egg-like shapes on the tables were indeed eggs. The fact that they were unlike any eggs I had ever seen could only mean one thing: Mr Van Heugens was telling the truth.
Dragons, he had said! I felt a well of excitement build up inside me. It was like all of my best dreams put together. I gasped out loud as picture-book images of dragons tumbled over each other in my head.
I calmed down pretty quickly when I realised how little I still knew. “Plenty to do,” Mr Van Heugens had said, but I had no idea what he meant. For that matter, just how had he been able to sit in that room without a mask on at all? And why did Bernard always seem to know what I was about to say? Nothing made much sense at all.
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I spent most of the week keeping up appearances. While this wasn’t the hardest thing to do with Tamsin (“How was working at the garden centre?” “Oh, fine…” “Fine?” “Yeah, fine”), going to school on Monday was the weirdest experience I have ever had. I felt like I was watching the whole thing on TV. I went to lessons, spoke to my friends and all that, but none of it felt quit real. It didn’t help that all the while, a voice inside me was screaming, “You’ll never guess what! Dragons! Yes, DRAGONS!”
Not that anybody paid any more attention to me than they had the week before, of course. A couple of the teachers looked at me strangely, as I actually showed an interest in what they were saying, but that was just my way of keeping quiet. I imagined this was what it was like to win the lottery. Though I wouldn’t have changed this for all the money in the world.
By the time Saturday came round, I could barely contain myself. I hadn’t slept too well several nights running, but I didn’t feel tired – an adrenalin-powered mixture of excitement and fear tingled through me as I got up, once again far earlier than I needed to, and headed off up the main road to the garden centre. By seven fifteen I had arrived.
There in front of me stood Mr Van Heugens, Janet Shilling and Bernard in his overalls. It felt like a repeat episode of some TV soap.
“So sorry for what happened last week,” started Mr Van Heugens. “Most unfortunate. Not to be repeated.”
“That’s fine,” I said, “I’m sure I can…”
“No, really,” he interrupted. “Mustn’t let it happen again.”
“I’m sure I’ll be…”
“I’ll leave you today with Ms Shilling to show you the ropes.”
“Okay, I mean, of course,” I said, a bit impatiently. This didn’t sound good.
“Fabulous,” he beamed. “Bernard, you come with me. We have some organising to do.”
With that the two men were gone, leaving just me and the nice-but-frumpy lady. Still, I thought, I’d better give her a chance. Who knew what the day held in store, after all?
“Janet, I…”
“Ms Shilling to you, my dear,” she said, not unkindly.
“Sorry, I mean, I was just wondering what we would be doing today.”
“Well, now,” said Ms Shilling. “This is a working garden centre, and we need to keep it that way. First I thought I would show you where everything is. We open at nine-thirty so that should give us just enough time. Then I’ll give you a couple of jobs so you can get the hang of things.”
Something in my head crumpled. This wasn’t what I had in mind at all!
“But what about…”
“About what, dear?”
“Nothing,” I said.
That was it. I had hit my head; I had dreamed the whole thing; and of course, there was no such thing as dragons. I felt dejected, disappointed and just a little silly. In fact, I was devastated. I wanted to run back home, throw myself back into bed and hide under my duvet. For ever.
But I couldn’t. I was trapped in the garden centre from hell, stuck with the dowdy Ms Shilling. There was nothing for it but to follow on meekly, as she led me through the main building. I desperately tried to pay attention as she explained the different ‘zones’, as she called them.
“The main area for indoor plants is here; here we have tools and equipment; over there are books and toys…” No, it was no good. I didn’t know how I ever thought I was going to be able to cope with this. Just as I was completely losing the will to live, Ms Shilling said, “Do you fancy a hot chocolate? One of the perks of the job – as much hot chocolate as you can drink. Let me show you the café.”
I nearly cried with relief.
Things were looking up, I thought to myself as sat at one of the blue Formica tables and sipped from my mug. Across the way, people were starting to filter in through the main doors. Ms Shilling had excused herself, muttering something about “paperwork” before vanishing down the corridor that led to the office and leaving me alone for a few peaceful minutes.
The peace didn’t last, however. I saw Ms Shilling re-emerge from the area behind the tills and walk over to where I was sat, an ominous-looking clipboard in the crook of her arm.
“Inventory,” she said as she sat down beside me. “On this paper are listed all of the outdoor plants we should have in stock. I need you to count how many we have of each. It’ll help you learn what everything is called.”
I clearly didn’t conceal my horror very well.
“Oh, it’s not so bad! We all have to start somewhere!” she chuckled, a tinkly sort of laugh. It wasn’t unpleasant, but you got the impression she didn’t do it very often. “Off you go, and if you need anything, I’ll be on the tills.”
There didn’t seem much choice, so I went and made a start. But honestly. The long names sounded more like a series of diseases, and the plants all looked much the same – scrawny little specimens that didn’t appear to be enjoying the cold much. I really didn’t think I could stand it for long. The only brief respite was the unexpected arrival of Tamsin. I was so relieved to see her I nearly gave her a hug.
“How are you doing?” she asked.
I pulled a face. “They’ve got me filling in forms,” I said.
“Well, it’s good to have a job!” countered Tamsin, in that upbeat, make-the-best-of-it manner of hers. And then, only half-jokingly: “I don’t suppose you can get me a discount now?”
I shrugged, noncommittally.
“Oh well, I suppose I’d better leave you to it then!” she said brightly, before trotting off and leaving me to my living hell of Latin names and twigs. Argh!
As the end of my shift approached, I’d had enough. I wasted no time in taking what I had done to Ms Shilling, and getting ready for a fast exit.
“Thanks for this,” she said, checking though what I had done. “Oh yes – Mr Van Heugens was wondering whether you might be able to come in for a couple of hours tomorrow?”
That was the last straw. I was so done with garden centres – I couldn’t cope with any more inventories or stupid Latin names or plants that had lost their labels. I was about to say exactly what I thought, when Ms Shilling leaned towards me and gave me that same conspiratorial look from when we had been in the office a week before.
“I think there may be a couple of other jobs he wants help with.”
With that look and those words, I deflated like a punctured ball. “Yes, of course,” I said, meekly.