Tell It to the Birds

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At the far end of the narrow road, scarcely wide enough to take two cars and bordered by high prickly hedges, Anson finally found the house he had been looking for for the past hour. The house hid behind a barrier of overgrown shrubs that stood either side of shabby double gates. It wasn’t until Anson got out of his car and approached the gates that he had his first glimpse of the house. He didn’t immediately look at it because his attention became riveted on the garden.

Although quite small with a twenty foot square lawn as immaculate as the surface of a billiard table, the garden presented a horticultural picture seldom seen outside professional floral exhibitions.

Everything, including a miniature fountain, a tiny waterfall, massed bedding plants, blazing with colour, standard roses in perfect bloom, flowering shrubs and even a dove cot was there.

For several moments, Anson stood at the gate staring at the garden, then he looked beyond the garden to the house.

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