Laura decides that to try and turn the house into a place of civilisation suitable for Inigo in twenty-four hours is not feasible.
Beyond purchasing some lamps, bedspreads and a lot of cracked but beautiful pearl pink china, and plonking vases of grape hyacinths and wallflowers on every windowsill, she does nothing. The mould-green walls in the bathroom remain unbrushed, the Rayburn is not scrubbed, but outside, the garden begins to take shape. Laura’s back burns where her muscles have stretched and pulled as she digs and heaves, weeds and chops. Fred finds a rusty lawnmower in the shed next to the goat and, Laura assumes, by making some pact with God or the Devil, manages to make it work. His first circuit around the lawn is witnessed and applauded by Dolly and Laura; then they lean against the fence, eyes closed, drinking in the warm afternoon sun and the smell of cut grass. As she climbs into bed, Laura realises she hasn’t thought about Inigo almost all day and it has been bliss.
– Green Grass by Raffaella Barker