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Rated: 13+ · Fiction · Horror/Scary · #1613569
It'll grow on you...
The first thing Stanley Applegate noticed - actually really noticed - about the house he and Jenny were viewing was the garden. Or to be more specific, the grass which took up ninety percent of the garden.

         "I know it doesn't look like much right now," the current owner was telling them, a nice enough guy by the name of Steve Jenkins, "but with a little care and attention I'm sure you could get it looking real nice."

         That, Stanley thought, had to be the understatement of the year. Steve had opened both sides of the French doors, a feature Stanley knew would score points with Jenny, and the the three of them stood on the threshold surveying the garden. The truth was it looked like shit.

         "It's about the size we're looking for," Jenny said, linking her arm with Stanley. "Plenty of space for Rebecca to run around in. I bet she'll love it."

         "Yeah," Stanley replied, thinking there was every chance they would lose their four year old daughter in it. Until now he had not realised how long grass could get. He was looking at a scene that could have come straight out of 'Honey, I shrunk the kids'. "It does seem a little narrow, though, don't you think?"

         "Only at first glance," Steve said, sounding a little embarrassed because he had let the garden run away with itself. "Beyond that trellis it widens to about thirty by thirty feet. I have to admit I was deceived at first. In fact it's one of the largest gardens on the estate."

         Not convinced, Stanley said he would like to take a look. The two of them headed off into the wilderness whilst Jenny preferred to stay behind and take another look at the kitchen, which was four times the size of the one at the flat, and fitted, too.Her minds eye was already busy at work, planning where to put everything.

         As they ducked under the terrace to avoid the overgrowing ivy, Steve said, "I actually built this myself. The fence was blown to bits by those storms we had last year so I was left with wood I didn't know what to do with. It seemed a shame to burn it all so here's the end result."

         It was an impressive structure, Stanley had to admit. And yet it baffled him how a guy who could put his hand to above average carpentry could let the same garden grow around his ankles until you realised that it wasn't your ankles any longer but your knees.

         "To be honest with you, Stan, this garden's just a bit too big for my liking. The extension made it smaller and it was great for the kids, but they ain't the ones maintaining it, you know what I mean?" Steve had two boys, and one of them had started his own allotment over in the far right corner. The ground had been dug up unevenly and left to bake in the June sun.

         Still, neglect aside, the view you got from the French doors didn't do the garden justice. It really was bigger than it actually looked, and he liked the way more than fifty percent of the garden was out of sight, like undiscovered territory suddenly stumbled upon.

         "I'm leaving the shed behind, but I'm taking the ladder." Steve said, turning ninety degrees and drawing Stanley's attention to the bleached wood construction lurking beneath two conifers in the corner nearest to them.

         Stanley had not noticed it until now and he was not displeased at the sight of it. Although weathered, it looked solid enough, nothing a tin of Cuprinol couldn't transform. The ladder, propped against the shed, was old and rusted and would not be missed.

         For a moment or so the two of them stood in silence, one of them with their fingers mentally crossed and hoping the prospective buyer would, unlike others, show genuine interest in the property. He and his family had moved on to greener pastures six months ago, and contract renting was not paying the two mortgages he was lumbered with. He was willing to drop to ninety thousand, two and a half thousand under the asking price, but that was not something he was in a hurry to make public knowledge. The other, Stanley Applegate, didn't like the disarray this garden had become accustomed to, but he was well aware that the parts were not always equal to the sum. This house, garden aside, had a lot going for it. Recently extended, fully double-glazed, new central heating system, fitted kitchen and two bathrooms. Pitted against the other houses he and Jenny had viewed these past few weeks, this one was streets ahead. But so was the price. Ninety-two and a half was no mean sum, and to switch from the two hundred and sixty a month for the council rent to the eight hundred plus this baby would demand was a fair leap. It wasn't out of their range but stretching it to the limit.

         They found Jenny still marveling at the kitchen, the prime source of her wonder being the hi-tech gas cooker and it's equally modern extractor system. From the moment they had walked through the door Stanley had seen she was completely gone on the place. Her approval needed only to be matched by his.

         "So what do you think?" she said, folding her arms and leaning comfortably against the cooker.

         Stanley looked at Steve, then let his gaze meet the excited eyes of his wife.

         "I think we're gonna need a lawnmower."

© Copyright 2009 Robert Martin (rmartin at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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