Page 139 of The Other Side
Mikkel brushed an invisible speck of dust from his sleeve. “Please finish your coffee. The house gets rather insulted when people leave a full mug, and I can’t always control which hallway it decides to hide tomorrow.”
Osian let out a low bark of laughter, shaking his head. “He’s only half-joking, Drum. Drink up.”
Drum looked from the two men to the subtly shifting shadows in the corner of the room. He raised the mug in a silent, grateful toast to the impossible house, and finally allowed himself to smile.
As they headed down the hill to their temporary home, Osian took hold of his hand.
“I’d like to open a garden centre,” Osian said. “On the edge of Sparlow, so mortals can find it.”
“That sounds a great idea. Can we afford it?”
“Mikkel will help. I think the queen will give us money too.”
“Can I help?”
“I was hoping you’d say that.”
“Except…every plant I’ve ever had has died.”
Osian stopped walking. “Every single one?”
“Not all at once,” Drum said defensively. “Some showed real determination before giving up. But yes. Every single one. Probably through under-watering, though I’ve also drowned rosemary.”
“You can drown rosemary?”
“Apparently. The flowers at the cottage probably only survived because I didn’t touch them. But you did, right?”
Osian shook his head, smiling. “You’re banned from watering.”
“I can do other jobs.”
“Such as?”
“I’m excellent at carrying heavy bags of compost.”
“Mm-hmm.”
“Not that I’ve ever carried heavy bags of compost. But I do make outstanding tea and coffee.”
“That’s true.”
“I can charm customers. And I’ll name the plants.”
Osian groaned. “No.”
“Why not?”
“Because you’ll give the hydrangeas names like Ranger.”
“Ranger the hydrangea. What’s wrong with that? Or Fearne the fern?”
“Stop.”
“Elvis Parsley, Barbara the begonia, Phil the philodendron?”
“Drum…”
“A cactus called Fluffy. A spider plant called Peter Parker. Visualise a customer walking in and you say, ‘Morning. Fluffy’s looking particularly radiant today, don’t you think?’ People would love it.”
