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Next day, they make a start. Together they mow Amber’s lawn and trim the edges; pull out weeds and prune the roses. Amber’s sore from unaccustomed exercise but sleeps better that night. The following week, they pull down the fence to make the garden bigger, then dig a vegetable patch. Afterwards, as they sit at the table sipping wine, Atong gifts her with a dazzling smile that illuminates her face. Amber smiles back, and though her cheeks ache with the effort, it gets easier with practice.
A breeze begins to whisper. Other neighbours seek them out and learn to smile again. They tear down their fences too, and so the garden grows. In time, seedlings unfurl, grey but vigorous. Glossy capsicums hang like tiny lanterns from sturdy stems while sleek zucchinis burgeon beneath their star-shaped flowers.
‘We must cultivate our garden,’ Amber laughs.
One morning, they wake to find the air fragrant with the scent of eucalypt. A magpie warbles its joy from a gum tree and the roses blush pink under a pale blue dome of sky.
