Free Meanwhile Gardens by Charles Caselton

presence Ollie looked through Nicky’s downloads – a mixture of old, new, borrowed and blue. He scrolled to a selection that would satisfy even the strictest of style police, flashing the screen as proof. “It’s Al Green,” he kissed Nicky on the cheek. “Don’t talk about me,” he whispered.
    Ollie whistled for Hum and made his way out. He was dying to say something to Andy – but what? Turning at the edge of the screen Ollie said, as coolly as possible, “I love your socks.”
    I love your socks? Did he really say that?
    With Hum barking excitedly in front of him Ollie jogged through Meanwhile Gardens and onto the canal. After the shortest of times his legs began to ache. Nicky was right, perhaps he should have rested for a day or two.
    He had just lumbered under Ha’Penny Bridge when Al Green began to croon about how tired he was of being alone. Deciding Al was a touch close to the bone Ollie muted his ipod and continued in silence.
    After half-a-mile he turned off the canal and walked breathlessly over the bridge at the top of Ladbroke Grove. Ollie entered the cemetery through the small gate by the Dissenters’ Chapel and quickly made his way along the woodchip paths until he saw he was opposite, but further on from, the huge gasometers.
    The graves were neglected here. No authors’ societies, no ennobled families, no loving relatives tended these forgotten tombs.
    Snuffling happily Hum skirted several overgrown headstones before arriving at the iron-railing fence that marked the cemetery border. Without looking back Hum squeezed through a loose railing and vanished into the rows of tightly planted saplings on the other side.
    “Hum!” Ollie barked angrily but the hound had gone.
    Ollie could see a small trail stopped at the fence and then carried on the other side. Wishing he had brought a bottle of holy water with him, Ollie pushed the weak railing to one side and went through.
    Despite having been in the sun for most of the day the battery hadn’t re-charged. It figures, Rion thought, the only thing I can remember from science class and it doesn’t work anyway. Disappointed she took off the headphones, realising she couldn’t get any more batteries until Tanya sent down her savings.
    Again she wondered – where would Tanya send them?
    A rustling and a panting broke into her thoughts. A black, shaggy dog, obviously young, bounded into the tiny clearing and over to her. Tail wagging, it sat at her feet and gave her a paw. She could see large brown eyes grinning up at her from behind its unkempt fringe.
    Rion immediately recognised the dog. Panicking slightly she realised that its owner couldn’t be far behind.
    A more ungainly huffing, puffing and crashing announced Ollie’s arrival. “Hum!” he called in annoyance as he pushed through the increasingly narrow path between the saplings. To his relief he saw an opening ahead. With a final thrust Ollie propelled himself through.
    He staggered into the clearing to find a young girl with long, long hair looking at him with apprehension. Ollie knew who it was. Immediately. The girl who had stopped him on the canal a couple of days ago.
    With some annoyance he saw Hum sitting contentedly at her feet.
    “So you’re not a ghost?” Ollie smiled, relieved, not that he had ever seriously entertained the notion, all the same the proximity to the graveyard had caused him to think more than twice.
    Rion stayed silent.
    “You’ve been scaring my elderly neighbour half to death. She’s convinced you’re a lost soul wandering between Heaven and Hell.” Ollie grinned again to show her he meant no harm but the young girl again stayed silent.
    By the ashes of the dead fire in front of him Ollie saw a well-thumbed book. He reached down for a closer look, picked it up and saw it was
Face the Fear and Eat It
– the bible of the self-help set. “Any good?” he asked.
    Rion nodded nervously.
    “A friend of mine saw his wife reading this – a week later she