A comfortable though long journey ended when I opened the car door into a sodden overhanging conifer; it wasn’t the only time I’d get wet that afternoon. Rain was set in for the day, and would only pause occasionally to catch its breath. For the first time in months I was back in my raincoat, with my faded gardening hat ready for action too.

The garden with its new gardener was the focus for the afternoon, and aside from a decorator darting swiftly in paint splashed dungarees from van to the house and back, all that could be heard was the rain. Water poured from the heavy sky glossing over the old flagstones paving the Manor House front, and streamed from the old lead downpipes into mossy drains. We decided to start the afternoon with some steaming black coffee in the gardener’s kitchen.

Chatting whilst watching the weather through an open door, all that we could see was an enclosed courtyard, but in no time at all the raising light level lifted our spirits. We moved out swiftly and through the arch into the damp grey garden, crunching across the gravelly drive towards an area in need of a plan.

On the way we perused empty borders, and some packed full of wet perennials just going over, then made footprints through sodden grass as we moved towards the once glorious garden. Pausing before shallow steps up

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