The elusive gardener

There was very little to do to the building, Joanna thought, as she walked around the house. It would be ideal as her new school. It was 1980 and like many other houses in the area, it was about 70 years old. With a bit of redecorating it would do just fine. There was an elderly couple who lived upstairs and they kept most of the garden, leaving her just a small yard and access to a small cellar. But after all, that was all she needed. She certainly didn’t want the trouble of looking after the garden, and the elderly couple had perfectly adequate green fingers. She hired a painter to do most of the decorating and work was progressing quite smoothly. One evening, though, she was rather surprised to find him waiting outside on the pavement for her when she arrived. He was covered in plaster and splashes of whitewash. His bags were packed, lying on the ground by his feet, and he was obviously quite upset. “Gianni, what happened? Don’t tell me you already have to leave today?” Joanna wailed, knowing from experience that workmen have their own inexplicable timetable when it comes to starting and finishing jobs. “No, sinjura. No. I can’t work here anymore. I’m sorry, sinjura, but I...