Free Your Roots Are Showing by Elise Chidley

and dumped it on the curb in one fluid movement, completely oblivious of the fact that she’d ripped a good-sized hole in the black plastic in the process. The odor that wafted through the hole was indescribably foul. Lizzie — parked in by Ingrid — could do nothing but cover her nose and stand her ground. She maintained a stoic silence to mark her new hostility.
    “By the way, I was just mentioning you the other day to this chappie I know who does our garden. Bruno Ardis. He’s a bit of a dish, if you know what I mean — and single.”
    Lizzie narrowed her eyes above the hand that was clutching her nose in a glare that she hoped spoke volumes.
    “Don’t worry, he’s not just any old gardener, you know. He used to be something in the City — mergers and acquisitions, I think he said — but he got tired of the hustle and bustle, so he chucked it all in. I gather he could well have afforded to retire, but he decided to start up a little landscaping business to keep himself busy. Anyway, I happened to bump into him the
very
same day you had me over for tea. So I just gave him a heads-up that you’d moved into the cottage and might need some cheering up — you know, I filled him in about James and everything.”
    Lizzie had a mental image of her Chardonnay-soaked neighbor accosting Bruno Ardis as he weeded her borders. Her eyes widened in horror. Thank goodness she’d been sparing with the details of the breakdown of her marriage when she’d had her heart-to-heart with Ingrid.
    “So don’t be surprised if he comes knocking on your door one day. Nice looking chappie, as I said. Not a patch on your James, of course, but what a sense of humor. A bit of a flirt, too. If anyone can jolly you out of the doldrums, he can. There, that’s the last of those bags for the week.” She kicked casually at an empty can of smoked oysters that had somehow made its way onto the muddy lane. “By the way, if you ever need a babysitter, just give us a ring. My daughter, Sarah, has a bit of a way with the little ones, if I say so myself. And she’s saving up for a ski trip to France next year. Toodle-oo.”
    How could you bear a grudge against a woman like that?
    Later that same day, Sarah herself arrived at the cottage to present her babysitting credentials. An awkward looking teenager with a mouth full of braces, she blushed when Lizzie thanked her for coming over.
    “I brought this,” she said, holding out a small rainbow-colored teddy bear. “For the kids.”
    Lizzie took it, touched. She called for the twins, and Ellie appeared obediently in the empty hallway. “Look, darling,” Lizzie cried, aware that she was gushing. “This is Sarah. From the barn. She brought you and Alex a teddy bear. Isn’t it lovely? What do you say?”
    Alex stampeded into the room at that moment. He snatched the new toy out of Lizzie’s hand and hugged it to his middle. “Ish mine,” he growled.
    Ellie’s own hand shot out and closed over the teddy’s head. “Snot yours,” she quavered. “Iss for sharing. Mummy
said
.”
    A vicious tug- of-war ensued without delay. Lizzie smiled brightly at her guest. “Twins,” she said. “They’re a teeny bit — competitive. Thanks so much for coming over. I’m not sure I’ll need a babysitter. I don’t go out very much. But if I ever do, I’ll be sure to give you a ring.”
    She was about to close the door on the ugly scene when Sarah suddenly ducked into the hallway and knelt down beside the children.
    “Help!” she cried in a gruff little voice. “You’re stretching my tummy! You’re squishing my head! You’re pulling my legs off!”
    The twins stopped tugging at once and stared, round-eyed, at the stranger.
    “Phew! That’s better!” the gruff voice declared. “I won’t stay with you lot if you hurt me again. I’ll go back to the barn. So, how are you going to handle this, do you think?”
    Alex was staring at the bear, now in Sarah’s hand, with a deeply buckled brow.