Part 2 - the girls go fishing
"Shall we meet this Saturday."
"Yeah. At the place we always used to meet."
A quick agreement for a rendezvous, made during the week. The time and place agreed.
It was not exactly an uncommon occurrence waiting for Siobhan. Danielle swung her bare legs as she sat on the old wooden bench in the shade of the tree just as she had done so many times before. And as she had done so many times before she was waiting for Siobhan who was late. Not very later but late nonetheless. Her eyes cast around for something to look at. Across from her the old brick wall almost glowed in the hot sunlight. Certainly the orange of the brickwork had an almost fiery quality. It was in the nature of bricks to be born of fire; to have been baked in the furnace. It was almost as if they were reliving that experience. And in the wall was an old green door; a door Siobhan and she had often wondered about. Danielle frowned. Had she and Siobhan not gone through that very door the week before? A fragment of memory touched the surface of her mind and drifted away. No, she did not think that was likely. She would certainly have remembered that.
It was an old wooden door with flaking green paint. Nothing particularly unusual about it apart, perhaps from the way its top was arched to match the brickwork. The contrast of the orange of the bricks and the green of the door was somehow pleasing.
"Hullo." Siobhan was not that late after all. Danielle had been settling in for the usual wait.
"You're early - I mean not late."
"Couldn't settle. All morning I've been thinking about meeting you. Must be developing a crush on you."
It was funny. That was the last thing at all likely. Not with the way Siobhan talked about boys. "I dunno, I couldn't settle at all, it was as if..."
Danielle did not find out what the 'if' was.
"Danielle! That door. You know. That door," she pointed towards the old wall, "it's open."
Danielle was more than used to Siobhan talking about 'that door.' The door in the brick wall seemed to hold some sort of fascination for her. She did not think she had ever seen it open before. Not that it was very open across the road - just ajar. She frowned, she did not think it had been open at all when she had been looking at it.
"Come on let's go see."
Danielle was reluctant but as usual followed her friend across the street.
Siobhan pushed at the green door and it swung further open, just the merest hint of a creak to its hinges. The sight that greeted them was almost breathtaking. A hidden walled garden of flowers, lawns and shrubs. It was exquisite, colourful and full of scent. It quite stunned Danielle as she followed the swish of Siobhan's cotton dress down a path of red bricks. Her sense of smell was stimulated by an onslaught of scents: was that the smell of an orange tree? Perhaps, certainly lavender and most definitely the smell of newly cut grass.
Danielle frowned for a moment as she watched her friend step onto the grass. It was emerald green, clearly well watered and tended. She was not sure she could see one weed. There were certainly no daisies or buttercups. Her frown was for the hint of a memory. She had the sudden recollection of the acrid smell of a lawn mower starting, its dark green frame shaking and throbbing with the suddenly active petrol engine.
It was a momentary thought before her eyes swept across the multitude of flowers calling for her attention, almost overloading her sight with their variety.
Overhanging the path an orange tree, its dark glossy leaves pleasing and contrasting with the vividness of the ripening fruit. She had indeed smelt and now could see them. Her hand reached up to a pair of oranges growing closely together and felt their skin. It was smooth but lightly pitted. Danielle was tempted to scratch the thick rind and release the sharp smell of the zest, even to pick and peel and taste the sweet juice.
"Siobhan, we shouldn't be here." But her friend was not listening, was seemingly captivated by the tinkling of a little fountain. She was standing, looking down at a stone edged pool in the middle of the lawn. At its centre a stone column rose and from it issued a steady stream of water rising up into the air and falling gently into the water below. Danielle knew the falling water would oxygenate the water and from its clarity and the clear healthiness of the moving goldfish was evidently doing just that.
The water looked cool and pleasant. Danielle wondered if Siobhan too was thinking how good it would be to dangle legs in the water or perhaps bathe with the fishes. She looked around but there was no sign of anyone in the garden, trespassing was one thing but getting into somebody's ornamental pool and bathing quite another.
"Oh Danielle, isn't this so lovely. A secret garden just like I had always imagined."
"Mmmm. Lovely but..."
The fish swum lazily in the pool. Big ones and little ones, moving in and out amongst the lillies.
It was as if Siobhan knew what she was thinking, "we don't need to leave yet, there's no one, not even a gardener. We can stay for a bit. Look, a little place to sit, would 'bower' be the word?
It was just so. A bower formed of overhanging willow, its pointed leaves giving shade from the sun. Within it a pretty little wooden seat. Siobhan went and sat upon it. Danielle followed.
They sat side by side, their bare knees almost touching. Even in the shade it was hot. Danielle could feel her perspiration trickling. Across from the bower the water of the pool looked so cool.
"I'm going to..." Siobhan kicked off her sandals and made her way barefoot across the mown grass.
Danielle had never seen such neatly mown grass with perfect stripes going up and down the lawn. It was cut very close to the ground. She watched as Siobhan stepped off the grass onto the stone edging to the pool. It was set flat with the grass, lichen greyed stone in an oval shape. Siobhan's feet were on the stone, her toes curling over the edge at the edge of the pool. Her toenails were painted green to match her dress and fingernails. Danielle thought Siobhan had pretty feet but, there again, most everything about Siobhan was pretty.
"No, Siobhan you mustn't."
But when had Siobhan listened to her?
Danielle reached, grabbed Siobhan's sandals but even before she had reached her, Siobhan had her legs in the water. Danielle could see her brightly painted toenails wriggling down there amongst the fishes.
Momentarily startled by the sudden appearance of two pale feet, the fish had taken themselves to the other end of the pool. It was not long before they were back.
"This is nice," said Siobhan gently moving her legs in the water.
It did, indeed, look nice - nice and cool. Danielle looked up the garden and back down it. There was nobody else there, indeed, unless someone came through the green door, it was not obvious how anyone else could get in. But if the door had been ajar surely that meant someone had come in - or had someone popped out, perhaps to the shops or simply forgotten to lock the door? Perhaps the person would not be back for a while.
She looked down at the water, at Siobhan's legs and feet moving within the cool liquid. Kicking off her sandals Danielle sat down beside her friend, knees drawn up inside her dress and her toes curling over the edge of the stone lip to the pool.
"Go on," said Siobhan.
Danielle frowned but the cool water was just so inviting. She dipped her toes.
"They tickle," said Siobhan. The fishes had returned and one or two were close to Siobhan's legs, even touching them with their mouths.
One came right up to Danielle's big toe, right there on her right foot just poked into the water. She giggled. It was sweet seeing them come to make friends and, yes, it did tickle. She slipped the whole of her foot into the cool water. One foot and then the other and almost before she realised it she was in up to her knees. The fish swam around, in and out of the girls' legs.
Around them the garden. So beautiful, so tranquil, an oasis of perfection in the city. A gentle and soothing hum of insects and the tinkle, tinkle of the fountain. Dainty butterflies moving from flower to flower seeking nectar. A few trees over by the wall rose towards the blue, blue of the sky but casting little shade. It was hot.
"I wish this was my garden."
But it was not. Danielle knew they were trespassing, but there seemed nobody there to mind.
"If this was my garden," said her friend," I'd get right into the pool, "wouldn't you?"
And Danielle knew she would. The water seemed so clear, so clean and fresh. Crystal clear, as oxygenated and fresh as a running mountain stream. She thought of snow melt running down the mountain and warmed by the hot sun as it tumbled and splashed over rocks down and down to the lower pastures. Danielle imagined Siobhan and she out for a hike and cooling themselves in a little rock pool. Two girls together unembarrassed to drop their day sacks and unbutton shirts and shorts, unembarrassed to pick their way hand in hand, bare foot over the rocks and into the pool. Unembarrassed to have their breasts out in the open or see each other's private hair, Siobhan's so red, hers so dark.
But what if some youth, tall and fair caught them, nymph like at their bathing? Would she mind being admired? The young man smiling at them and clearly in no hurry to leave, just sitting and watching. She could imagine her friend being flirtatious, acting both coy and provocative, even inviting the young man to 'join them.'
