The undulating Yorkshire countryside streaked past in a blur of grey and green as the car purred along the narrow lanes. Kate had not imagined that her afternoon visiting her grandmother would turn into an exploration of deepest Swaledale. Following the meanders of the river, they weaved along the valley floor at an exhilarating pace which was only interrupted when a flock of sheep padded across the road in front of them.
"Stupid animal!" Kate cursed as she swerved to avoid a straggling lamb that gambolled after its mother.
Her grandmother smiled at the sight of the young creature. "Isn't it lovely?"
Kate snorted. "Lovely on a dinner plate with some mint sauce, yes!"
The older woman did not respond, however her sentiments were clear. An animal lover, Kate's grandmother had boasted a real menagerie of waifs and strays before she had moved to Oak Lodge Rest Home, from a former racing greyhound to a tiny tame rabbit that she had found on the moor. Her home itself had been a homage to nature, with bats nesting in the old barns and sparrows finding solace in the abundant hedgerows. Even at her nursing home she took great pleasure in laying some crumbs on the bird table each morning.
Rain began to hammer on the windscreen and even the most ferocious wiper setting could not clear the downpour. Kate glanced sideways at her grandmother. "Are you sure you still want to go to this Misselthwaite place, Gran? We can turn back whenever you want."
"We have to go, Kate." She said firmly.
Kate was curious as to why her grandmother was so fixated with revisiting her former home but she did not want to question the old woman's motives. At ninety-three years old, she was fragile but in good health and Kate wanted to help her while she was still mobile.
They passed through a quaint village and Kate decided to ask for directions to Misselthwaite. There appeared to be nobody about but, after slowing to a near halt, her grandmother spotted a figure lurking under an umbrella near a bus stop.
"Excuse me!" Kate called after winding down her window, "Can you tell us where we can find..." She consulted her grandmother, "Misselthwaite Manor?"
The solitary figure, an elderly man, limped to the car. His expression was quizzical as he surveyed the inhabitants of the vehicle. "Misselthwaite Manor, you said? That's long gone."
Kate snatched a sideways glance at her grandmother, who was staring at the man in disbelief. "Long gone? What on earth do you mean?"
"Misselthwaite was bought for development a few years ago," He said, "There's a load of fancy houses up there now. You can still go up there though- just follow this road through the village and at the junction, take the track on the left."
Kate thanked the man and set off once more. She had sensed her grandmother's disappointment when the man announced Misselthwaite's demise and the elderly woman had fallen silent. Kate echoed her silence as the car left the urban interlude and rejoined the countryside. Kate followed the track that the man had recommended and the stone walls that had once bordered the road were replaced by vast moorland, where deep purple heather punctuated the grassland.
"Do you recognise any of this?" Kate asked.
"Of course I recognise it," said her grandmother brusquely, "I grew up here."
The road stopped climbing and they found themselves on a plateau amidst the rain. A number of buildings rose up above the cloud in the distance and the older woman inhaled sharply. Kate realised that this was where Misselthwaite would have once stood, presiding over Yorkshire from its dramatic vista. She could see that five or six houses had been erected, each one with a driveway occupied by a flash sports car. However, Kate noticed that her grandmother was not looking at the houses: instead her attention was concentrated on a walled area which was surrounded by diggers and construction barricades.
"My garden..." murmured the woman, "My garden is still there."
"What do you mean, your garden?" said Kate.
"That garden was my home," she replied intriguingly.
Kate parked on the verge and got out before helping her grandmother out onto the road. As it was a Sunday, there were no builders and the imposing machines were stationary. The other woman took the lead, leaning hard on her walking stick as she walked towards a gate in the wall. Kate hurried along behind, keeping an eye out for any angry residents. Upon reaching the rickety wooden door, she pushed it and, after a couple of heaves, it swung open. Kate followed her grandmother inside tentatively.
The great grey walls had concealed a jungle of untamed plants and flowers. Wisteria danced along the stone, interspersed by chorales of wallflowers, and a symphony of rainbow-tinted flowers lined the floor. Trees of varying sizes and colours formed a canopy over the floral utopia and, even to an amateur gardener like Kate, it was clear that someone was taking care of this garden.
Kate looked around her and was surprised to see her grandmother perched on a swing that hung from a tree in the centre of the garden. It seemed almost comical to see the frail woman on a seat more suited to a child but Kate noticed that she was crying. Rushing to her side, Kate put her arm round her.
"I wouldn't have brought you here if I knew you were going to get upset, Gran," Kate sighed. "We'd better head home."
Kate made to help her grandmother but the woman resisted. She stared up at Kate with tear-stained cheeks. "I've waited so many years to come back to Misselthwaite. Now I'm here, it seems fitting to tell you about my childhood. Kate, dear, there's so many things I need to tell you."
Kate frowned slightly. Her grandmother seemed distressed and her words puzzled Kate. She took Kate's hand and prompted her to sit on the swing beside her.
"What if someone catches us?" Kate said. "Remember it's not your garden any longer!"
Kate's last statement was met with a glare. She swallowed and took her place on the seat.
"So, Gran, what have you got to tell me?"