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- Story Listed as: Fiction For Adults
- Theme: Family & Friends
- Subject: Community / Home
- Published: 12/15/2024
Saving the bluebell garden
Synopsis (Cassie's POV, first person) When Cassie's Aunt May's housing authority plans to clear a popular communal garden, Cassie launches a media campaign to save it.
Saving The Bluebell Garden
2,694 words
“Come and see, Cassie. The flowers, bushes and plants in the bluebell garden have been dug up and taken away!” my Aunt May began over the phone.
I gasped. “Dug up? By who?”
“You won't believe this. Brenda told me that Hazel Royd have done it.” I sensed disbelief in her tone.
Hazel Royd was the housing authority that owned the property where Aunt May and her good friend and neighbour Brenda lived.
Why an earth had the housing authority decided to undertake work like this?
Well, maybe a gardening contractor team had got the wrong end of the stick, I thought hopefully.
“Stay put. I'll be there in fifteen minutes.” I was a media studies student, but luckily, I had a free day today... there were no lectures. I was also currently in-between projects. I needed a new assignment.
As I got ready to set out, my mind flew back...
Three years ago, my Aunt May (a widow) had moved to a small block of pleasant flats called Sycamore Court. It was absolutely perfect for her.
Hazel Royd specialised in providing housing for the over 60's, the retired and the disabled.
The complex included a grassed area with pretty cherry blossom trees at the front.
There was a medium sized car park at the side, but leading away from the trees, there was a lovely, peaceful communal garden, tucked away from the road.
It contained a square lawn, edged with rose and lavender bushes, plus there was a variety of attractive plants and flowers.
There were bird tables too, so the garden attracted wildlife, with a variety of birds, squirrels, butterflies and bees. There was also benches for tenants.
Smack in the middle, there was a wonderful willow tree and in spring, daffodils, snowdrops and crocus bloomed around it.
Yet the main attraction was the abundant crop of bluebells. That's why everyone called it The Bluebell Garden.
As we were close, I felt relieved that Aunt May would settle here easily.
***
Back at the bluebell garden, I couldn't believe my eyes.
As Aunt May had said, the flowers around the willow tree had been dug up and removed, the benches and bird tables had been taken away, and the rose and lavender bushes had been uprooted.
The patches of bare, scruffy, muddy earth were a sight for sore eyes.
“Hazel Royd have done this?” I was astounded.
Aunt May nodded sadly. “It was done yesterday afternoon, when I was out at the bowls club.”
I recalled my earlier theory. “I wonder if the gardening team have followed the wrong instructions?”
“Brenda rang Hazel Royd. When she asked if the gardeners had made a mistake, they said no,” Aunt May explained.
“But why has it been done? For what reason?” I wiped away a tear and saw that Aunt May was moved, too. I grasped her hand, to comfort her.
Tenants loved this garden! Why had Hazel Royd had completely spoilt it? It seemed so unfair, especially when there was such a nice, friendly, community feeling here.
They didn't deserve to have their garden taken away, I thought.
“They said it's to make way for some sort of new development,” Aunt May went on.
As I took my phone out, she filled me in. “Brenda wanted to know why the residents hadn't been updated about this new development beforehand. Apparently, Hazel Royd are not obliged to inform tenants about work carried out in communal garden areas.”
I frowned. Really? “That seems a bit strange, but it's their rules, I suppose.”
Aunt May adopted a practical approach. “Look, we need to find out why this was done, Cassie. What is this new development?”
“Yes. When we've found out all the information about it, we can pass this on to everyone at Sycamore Court,” I said.
“Let's pop back to my flat. We'll make a list of questions and then, if you're free, we can visit their offices.”
“Okay. I just want to film first.” This issue would make a strong subject for my latest project, I thought.
I knew that my tutor Val, felt passionate about green issues and saving the planet. She'd feel outraged about a local communal garden being destroyed, I reasoned.
I gave a short piece to camera, explaining the situation. Then after we'd had a quick cuppa, Aunt May grabbed her tenancy paperwork, and we set off.
***
On previous occasions, Aunt May had been seen quickly at their office, but today we were kept waiting.
When we were finally ushered into an office, we outlined the problem.
“I've asked my niece Cassie to accompany me today. Is that okay?” Aunt May began.
“That's fine. I'm sorry you feel shocked and disappointed by the new development, Mrs Brooke,” the woman began. “You must understand that we own the land.”
“We understand that, but the communal garden is enjoyed by all the tenants. It offers peace and quiet, so it helps with our emotional and mental well being. We all love to sit there and chat to others. It's a haven for nature and wildlife, too,” Aunt May added.
I nodded. “I don't want to be awkward but I'd like to point out that Hazel Royd charge the tenants a weekly gardening fee. Mrs Brooke has brought along her paperwork to show you.”
Aunt May began to bring out her rent statement from her bag.
The official shifted in her seat. “I don't need to see it. We're aware of the fees we charge.”
Aunt May paused, then launched in. “Why have you ruined the bluebell garden? You informed Mrs King over the phone that it was down to a new development. Could you tell me what this is, please?”
“We're building a car park on the site,” she answered crisply.
Joni Mitchell's song about paving paradise and putting up a parking lot instantly sprang to mind.
“You're destroying a beautiful garden for a car park?” I was aghast.
“There already is a car park.” Aunt May was bewildered.
She wasn't the only one.
“It can't cope with demand.” It was a short answer.
“Have the tenants at Sycamore Court asked for an extra car park?” I asked.
“The decision was made in a committee board meeting.” Her tone was brisk.
“I suppose the willow tree will be axed down?” Aunt May whispered.
“We've given you details of our plans, and we're not obliged to do that. Now, I need to get on -”
“So you're not prepared to take tenant's feelings about this into consideration?” I was astonished by their attitude.
“Tenants can file a complaint if they're not happy. Have you any more questions? No? I'll wish you good day.” She rose from her chair.
I had the distinct impression that she was keen to get rid of us, as she swiftly opened the door and ushered us out.
***
I realised that we needed to start a community campaign to save the bluebell garden. As a media studies student, I was in a very good position to help create local publicity.
My tutor Val would fully be in favour of it, I was sure.
“Why don't we talk to the neighbours and see how they feel about Hazel Royd's plans?” I suggested.
Aunt May smiled. “That's a great idea, love.”
“I'll need to film an updated piece later on.” The footage would need to be edited for a professional feel, I thought. I could easily do this at uni.
We began with Brenda, who was horrified. “Let's visit Eric on the ground floor. He's disabled and his wife Shona is his carer. I'll bet they'll be furious about it.”
They were. Eric was in a wheelchair and for him and Shona, the bluebell garden was their little nature sanctuary that provided a sense of serenity.
“We used to love feeding the birds and squirrels,” Shona said sadly.
“The bird tables have been removed.” I showed them my video.
Brenda twisted her hands. “The thought of the willow tree being hacked down in favour of concrete makes me want to sob my heart out.”
“This isn't on,” Eric said. “No- one here wanted or asked for another car park. We need to make an official complaint.”
I hesitated. “To be be honest, I don't think complaints from a small number of tenants will influence Hazel Royd. From our meeting, their decision seemed set in stone.”
Aunt May nodded and turned to me. “Are you going to upload your videos onto social media, Cassie?”
I considered. “I could, but this is a local issue, not a global one. I think we still need media involvement, though. We should contact our MP, too.”
Eric and Shona agreed to do this.
When we talked to the rest of the residents, they all felt the same way.
Some were so irate that they phoned Hazel Royd straight away to express their concerns. Meanwhile, I started work on my second video piece.
***
“So these are vulnerable people - senior citizens and a disabled tenant and their carer?” Max enquired over the phone.
Max worked for the local TV news programme, North Tonight.
A TV researcher, he'd got in touch a few days later, after I'd emailed him my edited video footage.
“That's right. They're in the process of taking a shared garden away from them. A lovely willow tree will be cut down for a car park. Everyone feels sad and angry about it. It's heart breaking and unfair.”
“I agree. There's an injustice angle here, Cassie, plus a feeling of outrage and common decency. Hazel Royd have clearly crossed the line. Our viewers will probably be affected by it, too.”
“If you get the green light, I'm hoping that after the report is aired, there'll be a big social media whirl,” I added.
With North Tonight behind the campaign, the story could reach a wider audience.
“I'm sure we can cover it. Look, make up some protest placards and a banner, and on the day of filming, ask the tenants to gather in the garden with these. I'll get back to you with a time and a date. It'll probably be broadcast live.”
“That's great. We'll invite the MP along.” MP's aren't averse to a bit of positive publicity, I thought, especially if it involves helping the local community.
“We'll ask someone from Hazel Royd to appear and explain their policy,” Max said.
Hmm- I had a funny sort of feeling that they wouldn't show up...
I asked my student pals to help me make protest placards and a big banner. They were keen to help.
My tutor Val, being an environmentally aware kind, was more than eager to assist the campaign, too.
Meanwhile, Brenda was given the task of contacting local newspapers.
Aunt May was in charge of radio stations. We just hoped that all this time, effort and hard work would help change the situation.
***
“They're digging up the lawn around the willow tree!” Aunt May exclaimed over my mobile.
I was at uni, so this time, I couldn't just dash over.
“Could you film it on your mobile from a discreet distance? I'm tied up now, but I'll pop round at around 4.”
“Yes, I can do that. See you later, love.”
When I arrived at Sycamore Court, the first thing I saw was a big sign outside on the gate: 'This site is being re-developed on private land. CCTV cameras are in operation. Trespassers will be prosecuted.'
Charming, I thought. I peered through and as Aunt May had said, the lawn had been cruelly dug up.
Yet more clumps of muddy clods completely surrounded the willow tree.
The tree was the last piece of beauty left standing... a squirrel raced up, and suddenly stopped to view the devastation. It seemed puzzled at the change.
Then it quickly ran away.
Even the birds pecking the ground looked lost and confused. It was a sad sight.
Aunt May and I roused the neighbours and everyone squeezed into Eric and Shona's flat for an update.
The MP had got in touch and was able to take on our case.
The newspapers wanted to send reporters round. Brenda and Aunt May had volunteered to be interviewed on local radio.
“North Tonight won't be able to film in the garden now, Cassie,” Eric pointed out. 'They've put up a big warning sign.”
“I'll pass that on to Max. Yet these silly signs will help with our campaign. It'll show Hazel Royd in a bad light. I mean, it's a tad OTT, isn't it?” I asked.
Everyone nodded.
“I'm just worried about the willow tree,” Brenda fretted. “They could axe it down early morning while we're in bed.”
“I'm an early riser,” Shona said. “I get up at six. Our view overlooks the bluebell garden. If we see or hear anything, I'll run out with my mobile and film it.”
“We won't be able to stop the destruction. We won't be able to save the willow tree, will we?” Aunt May reflected.
A moment of reflection fell upon the room.
I broke the silence. “We're doing all we can. Media and the MP are on our side and that could make a big difference.”
Just then, my mobile bleeped with a text. It was Max, with a time and a date for a live broadcast. When I announced this to the group, a loud cheer went up!
“Eric and Shona, you've been dealing with the MP, so if you could invite him along?” I asked.
Eric beamed. “We'll be pleased to.”
***
When the North Tonight broadcast team showed up, there was excitement in the air.
The tenants from Sycamore Court had gathered outside at the front, with all their friends and family, who wanted to help and encourage our 'Save the bluebell garden' campaign.
Members of Aunt May's bowling club had turned out to support us too, and they were happy to hold the banner aloft.
Me, my student pals and my tutor made up the crowd. We held protest placards -
the message was simple: 'Save Our Garden!'
We were all chanting 'Save our garden!' when the MP arrived.
The camera rolled and the North Tonight presenter got to work.
Her final line was: “We invited a representative from Hazel Royd to come here today to explain their policy, but the invite was declined.”
The director called out: “We're off air, folks.”
Then a good looking guy strolled up to me. “Cassie? I'm Max. It's great that you got the MP involved.”
My heart missed a beat.
Wow- with barbered, neat hair and deep brown eyes, he was gorgeous! We chatted away easily as the camera team packed up.
We said farewell and someone suggested a drink at the pub.
When we got settled at a table, I checked my mobile. Wow. On social media, via North Tonight's links, our campaign had gone viral!
When I told everyone, they were amazed.
“Well done Cassie!” Val beamed.
I was thrilled.
The planned newspapers and radio interviews all went ahead.
A week later, Hazel Royd backed down and all the tenants at Sycamore Court received letters of apology.
Hazel Royd claimed they hadn't realised the strength of feeling from tenants.
Hmm – really? I reckon they'd known all along that tenants wouldn't be happy about it.
I suspect that's why Aunt May and I were kept waiting at their offices.
It was only when we drew attention to their unfairness that they changed the mind.
The lawn, all the bushes, flowers and plants were re-instated.
The bird tables and the benches were put back, too.
It's amazing what the power of community can achieve!
Later, at uni, I was awarded top marks for my community based green project and Max asked me out (I said yes). We quickly became a steady couple.
Now that's what I call a happy ending!
ENDS
S.BEE
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