vocab_drabbles | #146: Dissemble: Miss Marple: Gen

Title: Too good to be true
Fandom: Miss Marple - Agatha Christie
Rating: Gen
Length: 500
Prompt: dissemble
Summary: Miss Marple's new gardener is too good to be true.

Old Laycock, the man who tended Miss Marple’s garden, was in laid up with pneumonia. He had never given satisfaction even in his most robust of health, so Miss Marple despaired that what was once a source of pride would cease to be so evermore. She could not pay for a proper gardener and she was forbidden from doing an real gardening herself.

But then Old Laycock had sent round a young man, a nephew, or, more probable, a second nephew or some kind of distant, two generations-removed cousin.

George Laycock was nothing like his uncle. He listened attentively to what Miss Marple said, and he put the mecosoapies just where Miss Marple wanted them and the Canterburys along the wall. And he did both that very afternoon, not waiting until ‘first thing next week’ when something would invariably prevent or delay the task. He didn’t seem to mind the weather, dry, wet, or frost.

And he only took one cup of tea!

He seemed to have no preferences himself as far as the garden. Not like Old Laycock and his asters and salvias or, worse, cabbages and brussels sprouts. George Laycock syringed the roses for green-fly immediately, and to see him deep trenching for sweet peas brought something akin to a pitter-patter to Miss Marple’s heart.

And she paid him just what she’d been paying Old Laycock.

George Laycock was simply too good to be true, and Miss Marple wondered just what lay behind his dissembling.

The only thing Miss Marple could identify was a little notebook. He was keeping a record of the things she told him to do and the things he did. There wasn’t anything remarkably unusual about that, but it was something.

But the garden was flourishing. It was almost back to its former glory, thanks to the untiring George.
Maybe he was a fugitive from justice. Maybe he was a part of a gang of thieves, what did they call it, ‘casing the joint.’ Miss Marple had nothing of real value in her home, so she doubted the latter.

On and on she speculated and waited for the other shoe to drop.

Finally, on one fine summer day, she found George had left his notebook unattended. He was on an errand to the plant nursery, and Miss Marple, though she knew she shouldn’t, could not help but take a peek.
At first, she was disappointed. It was just lists of instructions and tasks completed with the date, but then when she turned a page, something fell out and dropped to her feet.

A card.

She stooped to pick it up and examined the envelope and was stunned at what she read.

For Aunt Jane.

Miss Marple opened it.

Dear Aunt Jane,
At last, your curiosity got the better of you! Here are just the things for your birthday: a proper gardener and a bit of a mystery! I hope you are enjoying both. Ring me up when you finally read this.
Love,
Lucy Eyelesbarrow