Work Text:
"It's the fingers you've got to watch out for. Trees this old, espaliered against the wall like that, there's not much the wind can do for them but the fingers can still reach out if you don't prune them quick enough. Last weekend of June, I like to do them. Weather's usually good and it makes them focus on fruiting properly. Anything longer than your arm, that's got to go. Don't let them reach the top of the wall, either. That's only happened once, the year we tried growing a sacrificial parsnip — yes, I can see you laughing now, but it took me a full month and the dedicated work of our dear Her indoors to get back on my feet. Some of the younger trees had started to reach past the bricks and the rot set in quicker than I could get the ladders out. You see where I had to take the whole limb off, there? And on that one? Not pretty, no. They don't know any better. That's why you've got to keep on top of it all. They'll move quick when you're not looking. Ha! Not like that. They're tied down. I banged those wires in myself, they're not going anywhere soon. You need to check the pins in the mortar behind them regularly, at least one a year. Winter is best. They're usually asleep then.
"Now, inside the paths. Don't walk on the beds, the plants don't like it and they won't be shy about letting you know. The blackberry patch needs pruning back daily but everything else knows its place. You need to use the right gloves, mind, the long ones with the silver stitching, otherwise you'll find every cut just lands straight back on you. Make sure your route back to the shed is always clear, no matter what you're doing — the simplest job can surprise you, here. But anything you need, you'll find it in the shed! I've kept everything clean and sharp, so mind you do the same. If you can't trust your tools you can't trust anything.
"The ground's fertile, at least — a bit too fertile, if you ask me, but you'll quickly learn what should and shouldn't be here. During the day, anything that's growing a bit too fast, or moves when your back's turned, that's got to come out. Get the incinerator going first or you'll have a hell of a time getting it going while keeping the weeds back. Nightfall is no time for a caretaker to be outside, so make sure you're elsewhere. And if anything's moved by the morning, well... you'll get used to it. They're well mannered, for the most part. And you get some lovely sweeps of colour across the beds when the mood takes them.
"I know you're too smart to go picking anything, but it needs to be said. Most things here only bloom under a full moon anyway, but Her indoors has her helpers who do the harvesting and she doesn't like anyone else's fingers on them, even mine. Some of the flowers might start whispering while you're weeding around them, but their promises don't hold up to sunlight. The fleabane's the one weed you can trust. No one minds if you take a few daisies to brighten up the shed.
"Now, end of October, you'll need to mix up the repellent and pile it up around any plants you want to protect. I've pinned up the recipe in the shed; it's mostly egg shells, garlic water and old blood, all easy to find. Any will do! Her indoors can help, if you're in her good books. Ratios don't matter too much, just be generous with it. Thick circle of it around anything fleshy. Can't promise it will keep all the crawlies off, but it keeps the damage manageable. First day of November, make sure your spade is nice and clean and sharp. No matter how much protection you think you laid down, there'll always be something to rebury.
"What else? You'll pick it up as you go along, I can see that. Now, here's the tricky bit — haven't seen this done since my first day here. I've dug the hole already but you'll need to backfill around up to my knees. Make sure to mulch properly, too. A good three inches minimum or I might not make it through the winter. This here is a medlar; I'll admit to having a fancy for old things. I'll swallow it willingly — I swallow it willingly, I mean, I remember you've got the say the words right — but you've got to bind my jaw. Any knot will do. It's not like my hands will be free to fiddle with it.
"Hey, now, there's no need for that kind of language. I can appreciate you didn't know what you would find this side of the wall, but you're the one who came clambering over. The garden provides, I've always found, and I've been thinking of retirement. It's a good life, in here. You'll forget what was on the other side soon enough. I won't be able to talk with this thing in my throat, but if you get stuck on anything I'll try to tip you a wink, alright? And don't eat any of the fruit until at least a year has passed. I left it for years, but... well, the hunger comes eventually.
"Don't skimp on the watering! Anything new needs a good soaking to get it settled in, remember that. And don't worry. Her indoors will be out to greet you properly soon enough."
