"Come on, Rolf."
Ali looked on as the hound ignored her summons and continued digging his way to China -- or so it would seem. She wouldn't normally have minded, but they were in the public gardens and she didn't think the municipality would take kindly to having to fill in the craters he was creating at alarming speed. She tugged harder on the leash.
"Heel, boy!"
The voice came from behind them and Rolf abandoned his task, sitting guiltily at Ali's feet.
"I'm sorry about my dog," Ali began. "He just loves digging." She shrugged, hoping they would get away with a warning and a friendly smile.
"I know. I've been watching you."
Drat. "Come on, Rolf. We'd better go before we get into more trouble."
"Not so fast." He handed a pink slip to Ali.
"We're being fined? For destruction of public property? Look, Mister, it's hardly destruction. Yes, he loves to dig, but he hasn't destroyed anything. I think this is a bit harsh given that he means well and isn't a malicious dog at all. The way you've written it here, it sounds like I have a dangerous monster on the other end of the leash." Ali paused for breath, struggling to maintain her composure while trying to sound assertive.
"It's only fair, Madam. And you'll see the fine is to be paid in hours, not in cash."Ali studied the paper again. He was right. Twenty hours of community service, to be completed over the course of a weekend. She sighed. "Look," she said, "my name's Ali and this is Rolf." She tugged on his leash for good measure. "We love these gardens and Rolf loves digging. He can't do that at home because we live in a flat and it is too windy for the beach today." She lowered her voice. "That's where he normally digs."
The man tapped the side of his nose and winked.
"Surely there's another way we can sort this out? I don't think you want us here any more than we want to inconvenience you."
He coughed and pointed behind her.
"Oh, Rolf!" The crater had turned into a canyon.
"See you next Saturday. We start at eight, sharp. You can ask for Jack at the front gate."
*
The following weekend, after a trying week of dealing with customer complaints and having to play nice with the twits in PR to keep a big client happy, Ali and Rolf reported for duty just as the security guard turned up with his flask and lunchbox. She attempted a smile despite her dire sleep deprivation and approached the window. A well-used cardboard frame announced that Ben was the one sipping from the cup inside.
"Good morning!"
"Is it?" Ali hoped the thickness of the glass between them prevented Ben from hearing her. She cleared her throat. "We're here to see..."
"Jack. Yes. He told me. There are some tools and gloves around the back." He gestured for her to follow.
"I'll have you know," she muttered to Rolf, "that you'll be getting dry pellets for the foreseeable future. You can forget about those liver treats you love." Rolf tilted his head in reply and landed a sloppy kiss on her hand.
"As I said," Ben's arms were folded, "here are the tools you'll need. Gloves are in the box. Jack is straight down there. Look for the red flag."
She was sure that Ben slammed the door to the hut harder than he needed to. She rummaged through the box of gloves, all in varying degrees of filth. One was missing a thumb. The pair she selected were more mismatched than they were alike, but at least her hands would be protected. She hoisted the canvas bag of tools onto her shoulder and pointed Rolf in the direction Ben had indicated.
"Red flag, red flag, red flag." She adjusted the strap of the bag on her shoulder. "Why on earth would you have a red flag in a place as beautiful as this?"
"So I am easier to find in all the green."
Jack's voice was diagonally ahead of them and Rolf's ears pricked.
Ali smirked and unleashed him. "Go, boy. Find him." Rolf scampered in Jack's direction, barking as he went.
Jack was kneeling beside a bed of shrubs, pruning shears in his hands. "Steady on," he told Rolf. "If you're going to kiss me like that, at least buy me a drink first."
Ali grinned in spite of herself and found Rolf slobbering on Jack's knee while Jack scratched his head. "Rolf, you traitor. We haven't been here for five minutes and already you're flirting with the enemy."
Jack stood. "I didn't think you'd come."
"What, and risk being summoned?"
He leaned forward, took the tool bag from her and chucked it on the ground. The sound made Rolf jump. "It's OK, boy. I'm sorry." He patted Rolf. "You look tired."
"I never know what to say in response to observations like that."
"Sorry. I just mean that you must've had a hard week." He gestured at the garden. "Being here will do you good, I think. Maybe you'll even enjoy yourself." Jack winked at Rolf and led him to a bare patch of ground across from where they were standing. "Now, boy, I want you to dig here until you find the lost Mayan gold." He pointed at the earth as if to say 'X marks the spot'.
"It doesn't really work like that," said Ali.
"Just a little joke," said Jack. "This bed needs compost. The soil's a bit depleted after last year."
"You got us back here because you want us to literally shovel shit?" Ali rolled her eyes.
"No, actually, that job is harder than it looks. I want you to help me with the pruning."
Ali's cheeks coloured. "Look, I'm sorry. I am tired, but it's not an excuse. Can we start again?" She extended her hand. "Hello, my name is Ali and this is Rolf. We're glad to be of service here today."
"I'm Jack, and we are always grateful to our volunteers." He pulled out a pair of shears from his tool belt and handed them to her. "Lesson one: how to prune."
Ali smiled. Nothing seemed to rattle Jack, and before long she felt lulled into a wonderful state of calm by his voice and, well, his vibe. Rolf was of no help, and chose to sniff the plants or doze in the sun while they worked. Ali found herself enjoying the meditative peace of finding dead branches and nipping them at the joints as Jack had shown her. While she couldn't always see him, she was aware of him moving around her, carrying dead or discarded twigs and leaves to the compost pile on the back of his pick-up. At one point, he brought her a bottle of cold water, which she accepted with a smile of thanks.
"OK, team. Time to down tools."
Rolf joined him under the tree where he was seated. Ali realised that she'd forgotten to bring food. She usually bought a sandwich from the cafeteria at work. Her stomach growled in protest. She pulled off her gloves and sat beside Jack. The aches in her body were satisfying and she felt calmer than she had in ages.
"Here you are," said Jack. He was offering her a bacon and chicken wrap with lettuce, mayo and tomato.
"No, I couldn't," she said. "That's probably your lunch."
Jack held up a Styrofoam container that had the words "volunteer lunch" etched into the top with blue ink. "Hilda takes her catering duties very seriously," he said with a wink. "So seriously, in fact, that I think she bought these at the supermarket and repackaged it just for you. It'd be a shame to see it go to waste."
Ali took the wrap and bit into it as her hunger threatened to make her faint.
"And for you, sir," Jack said, "a big treat."
Rolf's eyes stretched with delight as he accepted the bone, circled three times and settled into the business of gnawing at it. Ali laughed.
"I told him no treats for getting us into this."
"It hasn't been all bad, I hope?" Jack dabbed his mouth with a serviette.
"No, I'm exaggerating. I feel really relaxed." She took another bottle of water from him. "Thank you."
"For the water?"
"Yes. And for making us do this."
"I didn't. You volunteered."
"What? The pink slip said we had to do community service."
"It did. That is, it does, but it's for the volunteer programme. There's nothing legally binding about it." He dropped his gaze. "I just thought it'd be nice to see you again."
It was a long time before anyone said anything, and Ali busied herself with finishing the wrap without dropping any food down her front.
"Most guys just ask for my number."
"What?"
"I mean, it's an awful lot of effort just to see me again. And if I had read the fine print and seen that it was a volunteer system then there's a good chance I might not have come at all."
"I had a good feeling about you," said Jack, collecting their lunch things for recycling. He pulled on the drawstring, folded his arms and leant against the tree trunk. He closed his eyes and sighed like a man who has eaten well.
Ali's eyes were heavy too. "How long is our break?"
"Until I say it's back to work." Jack tipped his cap over his eyes.
Rolf had fallen asleep with the bone in his mouth. Ali turned on her side and rested her head on her arm. She would rest her eyes just for a moment.
*
"Ew, Rolf, not now. Your breath stinks." Ali opened her eyes to find a gobby snout milimetres from her face. Realisation dawned and she sat up so fast that stars flew in her vision.
"Ah, she's awake at last." Jack had rolled up his sleeves and was tilling the soil with a rake.
"I'm sorry about that. How long was I asleep?"
"About two hours. I think you needed it."
Ali stood. "Well, I am ready to work again. Where do you need me, boss?"
There was a twinkle in his eye. "Are you up for shovelling shit?"
*
Ali knew that she reeked. And that she was feeling ravenous.
"Jack? You here?" Ben's voice called across the garden.
"Yes. Follow your nose."
"Oh jeez. Not again." Ben appeared and seemed impressed to find Ali up to her elbows in compost. "You have something..." Ben pointed at his cheek.
"Don't fall for it," said Jack. "Ben just wants to see you put shit on your face."
"Aw, Jack. You spoil all my fun." He grinned at Ali. "But seriously, you've got a little... Just here."
Ali laughed. "I know," she said. "It's going to do wonders for my complexion."
Ben snorted. "Jack, buddy, we're locking up in thirty minutes. Unless..." He looked at Ali pointedly.
"We'll see you at the gate in twenty-five," said Jack.
"Well, if you're sure..."
"We'll be there," said Ali.
The clean-up took less time than she expected. It was a matter of loading up the debris for compost, bagging the tools and sealing the compost bags for the next day. Jack drove them back to his hut and Rolf drooled out of the pick-up's window, revelling at the feeling of the wind on his face. He forced Ali to slide to the centre of the seat so that he could lean into the breeze, and Jack kept grazing Ali's knees when he changed gears. He grinned apologetically every time.
"The front gate is two minutes from here," he said, once they parked.
Ali took this to be her cue, and hopped out of the pick-up. She leashed Rolf. "So we'll see you tomorrow?"
Jack chuckled. "You don't have to. You know I lured you here under false pretences."
"Is eight too early?"
He swallowed. "Yes, we start at nine-thirty on Sundays."
"Great. Come on, Rolf."
After a hearty dinner, Rolf passed out on the kitchen floor. Ali was well on her way to do the same but decided to indulge in a bath first. As she submerged herself in the bubbles and allowed the heat to soothe her body, she thought about Jack's unorthodox method of getting her to return to the gardens. She closed her eyes and inhaled the lavender fragrance of the bubble bath. Although she had promised to return the following day, with hindsight she wasn't sure if it was the best idea. Apart from Rolf, creatures of a masculine persuasion had been a consistent disappointment to her. She must have dozed off because she woke with a start when Rolf nudged her hand with his snout.
"Time for bed," she said, but she wasn't sure whether it was for her benefit or Rolf's.
*
"Look at the lonely travellers emerging from the mist... Pray, are you heading to Mordor?" Ben was without doubt a morning person.
"Hi Ben. We're here to help Jack."
"And you brought snacks, I see. I'll have to inspect those at lunch time to make sure there's nothing contraband in those packages."
"They're peanuts, Ben. Nothing contraband about that."
"Have you met anyone with a nut allergy?"
Ali laughed. "Is Jack working in the same place as yesterday?"
"Nope, we're going somewhere else today." Jack appeared at Ben's side and he was carrying a rucksack.
"Please tell me it doesn't involve climbing or reptiles." Ali flinched in anticipation of his reply.
"You'll have to wait and see."
Jack drove them beyond the shrubbery and along a dirt track that looked like it might disappear into the hill in front of them.
"EIther you're the Pied Piper or we really are going to Mordor," said Ali. When Jack grinned by way of reply, she said, "I had no idea the garden was this big."
"Few do. It's built on the estate of Count Sakharov. Legend has it that he was Russian royalty who escaped St Petersburg mere days before the Tsar's cossacks shot at civilian protesters outside the Winter Palace in 1905. He made it to this estate and made a bride of the owner's daughter. Of course he insisted that the land be part of her dowry. Apparently, the young lady was deficient in the looks department. Nevertheless, Dmitry Sakharov was a shrewd man and knew how to get people to do his bidding. Before long, he'd acquired the properties around the manor house and was something of a multimillionaire. His wife, we're told, agreed to turn a blind eye to his indiscretions if he turned a blind eye to hers. A rather modern arrangement, I think. Not that I agree with it." He added the last sentence hastily, and looked at Ali to make sure she'd heard. "Anyway, Mrs Sakharov never gave the Count an heir and, rather than let his distant relatives squabble over the estate, he donated it to the state."
"So he was a self-made man?"
"No, he was an exploitative man." Jack squinted at the track in front of them. "Here we are."
The road veered to the left and Ali could make out a cluster of trees. "Do I hear water?"
"Correct." Jack grinned. He stopped under a large tree and they got out. He lowered the tailgate of the pick-up for Rolf and grabbed the rucksack. "Follow me."
It was clear to Ali that Jack knew the surroundings like the back of his hand. He led them through the trees and they stumbled upon some grazing buck, owls and squirrels. The sound of water became louder and when they arrived in a clearing Ali could see a small but powerful waterfall. Rolf could not have been more excited. He crashed into the water and swam under the stream of the waterfall.
"Crazy dog," said Ali.
"But you envy him too, don't you?"
Ali laughed. "He reminds me to have fun. I tend to be very serious."
Jack dropped his eyes and made as if to say something but then sighed as though he thought better of it. "Let's go," he said.
They trekked up a footpath Ali was convinced she would never have known was there if it weren't for Jack. The sun was climbing with them, and she stopped to drink some water. The view over the valley was breath-taking. "I wish I could bottle this," she said.
"Bottle what? The view?"
"The view, the vibe, the fresh air. I spend so much time staring at a computer that I've forgotten how good it feels to be out here." She raised her nose to the breeze. "Do I smell jasmine?"
"Right again. Sakharov had a whole lot planted here to remind him of St Petersburg. But that's not where we're going." Jack jerked his thumb to a point behind him and Rolf and Ali followed. He led them into an orchard of pears. The branches were heavy with fruit. He took them to a stack of crates and handed one to Ali.
"Do you bring all your volunteers here?"
"Only when the fruit is in season. And if I like them. It's sort of my secret place. I come here to think."
Ali inhaled the perfume in the air. "I can understand why."
"Before you start," said Jack, "a tutorial." He stepped up to the nearest tree. "Twist and pull."
Ali reached up and grabbed a pear. "Like this?"
"Perfect. Make sure you pick the hard fruit, if it's soft then it's heading towards being overripe. Those make good jam, I suppose."
"How about we sort them into hard and soft fruit? Red crate for soft and blue for hard?"
"Deal."
Rolf made himself comfortable in the shade and occasionally chased butterflies or sniffed at the roots of the pear trees. They worked in companionable silence. At one point, Jack disappeared and then returned with the pick-up and more crates.
"There's a road that leads here?"
"Yes. But I didn't want you to miss seeing the waterfall."
At lunchtime, Jack whistled for Rolf and rewarded him with another bone.
"Don't tell me Hilda cooked on a Sunday?" Ali grinned as she joined him under the tree.
"Fat chance," said Jack. "This sandwich is made by yours truly."
Ali dug into her bag. "I brought snacks too. Ben threatened to confiscate them for being contraband. They're peanuts for goodness's sake."
"I actually have a nut allergy," said Jack.
"Oh crap," said Ali. "I'm sorry. I just assumed that you, like Rolf, eat everything."
"Except chocolate."
"Except... Wait, you don't eat chocolate either?"
"Not me... Rolf."
"Yes. With you. And no, he doesn't eat chocolate."
"That's good." He handed her a sourdough roll with ham, basil pesto, Cheddar cheese and tomato. "Bon appétit."
"Are there fresh onions on here?"
"No."
"Thank goodness."
Jack frowned at her.
"Whenever I eat fresh onion, the taste seems to linger in my mouth for days. I really hate that I can't get rid of it. And onion breath is the worst. Well, garlic is a close second."
"I'm lucky I'm not French, then."
"That you are." She bit into the roll and groaned. It was delicious. She retrieved the bottles of gingerbeer from her bag and offered Jack one. "I think this will help wash down the sandwich -- and it's really tasty, by the way."
"Thanks -- on both counts," said Jack, taking a bottle from her. "I'm curious. Why did you come back?"
"I'm stubborn." Ali grinned. "And it felt good to be outside, doing something meaningful." She played with her bottle cap. "The company isn't bad either."
"Did you just compliment me?"
"I'll never tell."
Jack chuckled. "Sounds about right." He crumpled the bag his sandwich had been in. "What kind of work do you do?"
"I am the manager of an after-sales team. We support the salespeople and, if necessary, clean up their mess. And by that I mean we sometimes have to kiss the hairy buttocks of our clients, and negotiate with the PR team to shower them with gifts, to keep them happy. This week left me with a mouthful of fuzz."
Jack laughed so hard that gingerbeer escaped his nose. "I think I am beginning to understand the appeal of being outside. The air is much fresher, and there's not a buttock in sight."
Ali held up a pear. "Isn't there?" She planted a fat kiss on the pear. "But the benefit is that this one is fuzz-free."
Both of them laughed until tears ran down their faces.
They wiled away the afternoon picking the last of the pears and engaging in sitcom-worthy banter. Ali believed her stomach muscles hadn't had such a good workout since the week in university where she decided to try planking. As the sun began its descent, Jack motioned for her to round up the last of the crates and load them onto the pick-up. They smelled of fruit, fresh air and a good day's work. Ali wished she'd brought some deodorant in her bag. Jack drove around to the waterfall and they paused there for a while, listening to the water and watching Rolf frolick in the pool. Ali's hand was resting on the seat when Jack placed his alongside hers. She shifted her fingers, splaying them. Jack covered her hand with his, keeping his eyes on Rolf, who was ahead of them. Ali hoped the butterflies in her stomach would stay put until he took his hand away. After five minutes, he didn't and she relaxed, letting her fingers curl around his.
It seemed to Ali that they would have sat there like that for all eternity, but the silence in the cab was interrupted by the two-way radio. Jack started and withdrew his hand.
"'Allo, 'allo. This is Nighthawk. Come in, Jack. Over."
Ali laughed at Ben's humour. She'd loved watching that show.
Jack picked up the handset. "Good moaning, Nighthawk. Over."
"Just a friendly reminder that I'm locking the gate in 30 minutes. And do I need to send a search party for the girl and the dog? Over."
"Both are with me and in good health. We'll be there in a few. Over."
"Good. Over and out," said Ben.
Jack whistled for Rolf, who bounded up to the pick-up. He deposited more water and mud on the pears than Ali liked to think about, and realised with a groan that she'd need to wash him before they could return to her flat.
Ben was waiting for them at the gate with a smirk on his face. "Nice day?"
"Oh, it was pear-fect," said Ali.
Jack handed him a bag. "Enjoy. These are ripe and ready to eat."
"They'll be nought but stems and seeds before I get home, don't you worry," said Ben. "So long, kids." He retreated to his hut to prepare for closing time.
Ali leashed Rolf and hovered at the gate with Jack, who seemed unsure of what to do with his hands.
"Thanks for the weekend," she said. "I, I mean, we had a great time. Didn't we, Rolf?"
"Me too," said Jack. "I'm glad you came." He leant forward, took Ali by the shoulders and kissed her mouth. He tasted of pears and sunshine. They broke apart when Ben pointedly clanged his keys in the gate's lock.
Jack chuckled. "Ben really knows how to ruin a moment."
"I heard that," said Ben. "Later, kids." He held up his bag of pears. "These are good, by the way. Thanks. And don't you do anything I wouldn't." He disappeared down the path to the parking lot.
"We'd better get going," said Ali. "Rolf needs a bath before we can go home."
"Yes. No, of course." Jack fidgeted with his watch.
"Same time next week?"
Jack's face split into a grin. "Same time next week."
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