Read The Garden of Stars for Free Online Page B

watching, waiting, nurturing will have been worthless.
    Â There would come a time when I would have to let Rosie go so that she too could grow and blossom and shine. How would I be wise like Mother Magnolia, knowing the precise moment to set my little girl free?
    Â Everywhere I looked in the silvery mist, I saw magic. I saw it in the house, too: every time a tin of flour, eggs, butter and sugar rose into a light fluffy cake. Every time a log and match united to fill my cottage with a warm, amber glow. Every time a woman popped into the mirror to tell me how I looked. Every time I realised I’d been hiding the sun himself inside my cupboard as I cracked open the shell of an egg.
    Â By now my hair was drenched and my skin tingled with pleasure with each gentle drop of rain. I felt cleansed, healed, just like the garden of stars.
    Â I realised I must have been in a trance and glanced around for Mary Metford.
    Â But she was gone.
    Â Suddenly a cold chill took over my body. Shivering, I ran into the house. The kitchen was calm and peaceful, just as we’d left it, with one glowing, half-empty bottle of gin on the table, and two glasses beside it.
    Â But, closing the door, I spotted a card. I lunged forward, humming to myself as I picked it up, thinking Miss Metford must have dropped something.
    Â To my horror, it was a calling card from the mayor. How long had he been here, and how much had he seen and heard? 

Chapter Four
    The plan was this.
    Â Maureen Sprockett was head librarian. Her job would be to research what community events used to be held in Ivory Meadows in bygone days so that we could work to bring them back, as a living, working, old-fashioned town.
    Â Once she’d come up with some ideas, she would hang a sign on the church notice board. It would say: ‘Come and Find Out More About What’s Going On In Your Local Library’. This would be the signal to Gillian. She would go and choose some books to borrow then Maureen would slip an extra book into her collection at the counter. This book would contain a piece of paper with all her ideas listed on it.
    Â Gillian was good at art and design. It was her job, being a florist. She would design two leaflets and two posters, telling people all about the forthcoming events in Ivory Meadows. I would come up with some words detailing why the town was under threat and why it had to be saved. I told her I would drop a piece of paper containing all those details into her grocery bag next time she came into the shop.
    Â When Gillian’s posters were complete, she would wrap them, pattern side inside, around four bunches of flowers, which Dennis would collect on his and Barbara’s wedding anniversary on October 13, just under a month’s time. Barbara would be delighted by her ‘surprise’ gift, put the flowers into water, then hide the leaflets and posters.
    That day they would close the shop for the afternoon so they could go for a long, leisurely celebration lunch. At this Dennis had complained about it being bad for business, but Barbara had rebuked him for being selfish and told him he could book them into The Mason Arms, then winked at me. Having a weekday afternoon free gave me an excuse to catch the train into the city, supposedly sightseeing, but really to take the leaflets and posters to the printers.
    Â Mr Morris, the hardware shop owner, said he was friends with the printer and would have a quiet word beforehand, not only to alert him to the highly secret nature of what he was about to receive and ask him to be discreet but also to enquire about a discount.
    Â Once back from the printers, I would pin a ‘Lost Cat’ sign to the fabulous old oak tree at the bottom of the hill just on the edge of town. The last digit of the telephone number would be to let George the bargee know how many days it would be before the leaflets were ready. At this point, he was to collect them, stowing them like