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A piece of gardening-related flash fiction. I wrote it several years ago, and was reminded of it by Hank's post about his know-it-all neighbour. Hope you enjoy it!

TED GETS IT WRONG

“You’re planting those much too close together,” said Ted, leaning a gnarled and liver-spotted elbow on the fence. “They won’t grow properly like that.”

Millie gritted her teeth. Her neighbour fancied himself as the world’s best gardener and everyone else as the worst. It was the same when she’d grown tomatoes in hanging baskets last year. “They’ll never fruit,” he’d said, “you’ve left it too late.” True, she had, what with another long spell in the orthopaedic ward, fielding awkward questions. But she’d thought it was worth a try after the trouble she’d taken to grow the plants from seed. And it was. Too late in the season for ripe fruit, but enough green had appeared to keep her in chutney over the winter. She’d given Ted a jar, to make a point, yet he’d got even worse after that. It was as if he thought she couldn’t manage without a man. Why couldn’t he keep his negative comments to himself? Life had been bad enough when Malcolm was alive; nothing she did or said or the way she looked had ever been right.

Millie set down her tray of seedlings. “It’s called deep trench gardening,” she said, surprised by the superior tone to her voice. “Lots more depth of topsoil means the roots grow straight down rather than spreading sideways. So I can plant much more closely than normal.”

Ted looked unconvinced – and unphased. “You’ll need plenty of fertiliser in that trench, then,” he said, tugging at an age-lengthened earlobe. “Fish, Blood and Bone’s best. It’s what your Malcolm always used, before he left.”

Oh yes, thought Millie, there’s plenty. Right in the bottom. No fish, but plenty of blood and bone.

© Rosie Rose

• 8 Oct, 2016