14 Best Kept Village

You can tell a lot about people from the state of their gardens. For example, if you can see an abandoned mattress and an old car propped up on piles of housebricks where the wheels ought to be, then you’re probably not in Whimsey at all. We have standards here. Not rules, exactly, though anyone with an untamed garden is likely to get a discreet visit from Hayden, in his capacity as president of the Keep Whimsey Tidy committee, with some timely words of advice.

Back in in 1992 Whimsey came third in the Best Kept Village competition: a success still remembered fondly, and why not? After all, in Formula 1 third would count as a podium finish; we would have been spraying each other with champagne. Instead there’s just a small certificate commemorating the achievement, which, when framed, served to hide a damp patch on the wall in the village hall. Third was good, but we can’t rest on our laurels. As Hayden keeps reminding any back-sliders, we’re never going to win the competition if we don’t mow that lawn/trim that hedge/get rid of all those garden gnomes (delete as appropriate).

Hayden organises his own garden like a military campaign. He has cowed nature into submission with hard work, an iron will and some industrial-strength weed-killer, bought ‘under the counter’ from the local garden centre. ‘Agent Orange’ seems an odd name for a harmless defoliant, but never mind. The flowers in Hayden’s garden do as they’re told, or else. His lupins stand straight and tall, like guardsmen at attention. The lawn is pristine - the stripes made by his lawnmower as straight as the creases in a sailor’s trousers. Hayden won’t even let you walk on the sacred turf until you’ve taken your shoes off.

The garden reflects the man, and any weed that has the temerity to grow where it’s not wanted is ruthlessly terminated. The war against wildness is never won; there are always new battles to be fought. Gardening brings Hayden no pleasure whatsoever. It never occurs to him to relax in a deckchair, with a glass of iced lemonade at hand, and just enjoy his handiwork. He only ever sees the flaws: another aphid, another blackspot on the rose bush, another daisy on the lawn.