Secret Flowers, Dreadlocks and Blueberry Muffins.

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Once upon a dream there was a very special blueberry tree.

Its fruits refused to blend into muffins so they only showed at night, when they talked funny gossip about the garden bugs’ adventures.

And everyday, at nine o’clock, the flower delivery guy stole a fruit, dropped a braid and hopped away, happy to keep Ron the gardener’s secret during one more shift.

But the secret would soon become a muffin.

The antiques dealer and her charming servant lived towards the West of the garden. They never got tired of receiving a delicate bunch of flowers from an anonymous sender.

No, the flowers were not for the mistress, but for her jolly loyal servant Milly, who used the flowers to keep busy pressing them into cards or diadems, or anything she could come up with… but what Milly did not like, was to bake half a dozen of muffins at night , for Ms Jane to enjoy breakfast with her time-rich clients.

– ” You haven’t told Milly, have you?” The gardener would enquire from time to time.

– ” Sort of…. NOT.” And so  Ron the gardener would mess up the flower driver’s dreadlocks.

– ” I hope I don’t catch you nicking the blueberries”

– ” It’s a small price for a secret”

– ” Are you suggesting Milly’s heart is of a small value?”

– ” Oh, no, I didn’t mean that…. I mean you need to water the blueberry plant with brandy next time, so they grow plumper…” said John, trying to redo all his hair.”

– “Same time tomorrow!”

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Ron the gardener had first met Milly on her third day of work, when she rushed to him for help to mend a Vase she dropped while dusting. The girl was so worried that she didn’t say a word while glueing the pieces back together, one after another, until the vase was whole again. He was still hoping for a chance to talk to her- but all he got was ironical messages sent back by John, such as

“Please could Mr Love talk John into a haircut instead of sending the fifty- eighth bunch of  gorgeous flowers. Thank you.”

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One morning there were no flowers delivered to the doorstep. The two ladies felt surprisingly unspecial.

“I just wish my fan would actually turn out to be….. John.”

Later in the day Milly received a call from Ms Jane saying she would be late,  for a very fine deal had been reached for some new acquired goods.

No pretty flowers to do artwork that day. Milly felt like having a break, so she went for a stroll down the lane.

She saw John picking some berries.

– “Where’ s my bouquet? Has my admirer given up so easy?”

– “Hey Milly! You scared me! Do you want some blueberries? The gardener’s away- there’s a rumour he won the lottery last night!”

– “The….. what? ”

– “Yep! The lottery.”

What a strange day this was, thought Milly. Maybe it was another fib.

– “John! Stop chewing that dreadlock !”

– “ooops… don’t tell  Ron…”

– ” About you biting your own dreadlocks?”

-” No, silly! about the blueberries…”

– ” Actually, I was just thinking I might take some for tomorrow’s darling muffins…. you won’t say anything?”

– “I might…. NOT”. They both laughed as usual.

– “See you again tomorrow when you bring my fan’s art supplies”.

Just before she turned away from him, some familiar car brakes pulled like the sound of a nightmare snorer, just in time for Jane and the gardener to catch the conversation.

The stalky man stepped out.  The look he gave Milly was like two slaps accross her face…. This strong fellow with those  calm, cloudy eyes was the one sending the flowers everyday! Dropping the stolen berries from her skirt and all over the floor, she was even more vexed by the gardeners spontaneous gesture: he was helping her pick the blueberries!…..

Ms Jane, who knew her servant just like a daughter, could follow the full story.

The gardener was firm,

– “I experienced the archaeologist’s dream yesterday while pulling out some roots. The Council insisted I could keep the old coins, so I was planning to buy some land for you and I Milly,  and even build a flower art workshop for yourself, just so you needn’t bake a single more muffin again. I already had in mind a lady who would do the housekeeping for you. You were to me the freshest flower in the bouquet, but now I see you are an ungrateful blueberry thief who mocked my feelings while taking the gifts.

– ” I’m so sorry, I…..”

– You’re not sorry. Today we found out who my real lady is… one who you should have learnt from.

– “Don’t talk to her like that!” Said John, wrapping his arm around her shoulder, “She works hard everyday and cheers up my mornings!, and it was me who offered the blueberries just now…”

– “Then take her hand… take it! I shall ask for Ms Jane’s on my knees.”

After a brief exchange of amusing glances, both men fell on their knees. The ladies felt a warm blush of complicity.

A sudden gush of wind blew a few ripe blueberries away like confetti, while the happy bugs flew and crawled towards the spot where the fruit spilt over.

– “One more thing,  Ron continued, my lucky messenger, if you could spare a couple of hours this evening to do a spikey dreadlock coiffure over this foolish head of mine, and it looks good- I promise you – all four of us will enjoy digging more coins out from the soil… and then we can do a proper  sausages and blueberries barbecue!

The drivers behind, who had been listening while they waited for Jane to move her car out of the way, started to beep and cheer….

– “Hey, we’re engaged!” Cried Milly, “can’t you wait? And please don’t drive over our blueberries! I’m trying a new muffin recipe in the early morning!”

The End.

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