Chapter 112

• Spring had finally arrived, with Emma's gardens never looking better. The wisteria was in full bloom over the back pergola and her prized azaleas were having a wonderful season with masses of pink, red and white blooms. Friends had told Emma not to plant azaleas. Too hot and dry. But she knew exactly where to plant them—underneath the native trees on the gentle slope which surrounded the large back terrace. She always kept them well fed and watered, and everyone who visited the Lawrence's admired them profusely.
• “I’ve never seen azaleas like those, Emma,” Angela had said on seeing them.
• “I’ve never had any luck with azaleas myself. Even in pots.”