Annie's Little Joke.

We’ve had no rain in my part of Britain for several weeks, and the ground is very dry. My garden is quite big; it takes two hours with a watering can just to give everything a splash – and that doesn’t include the lawn. I decided I needed a hose.

I have two old hoses and, together, they stretch from the kitchen to the bottom of the garden. All I needed to get them functioning was a connecting device to join them together and a tap fitment that would work on the modern taps in my kitchen. I bought them both when I went to Derby on Friday.

Problem: the tap fitment didn’t work because my taps have individual levers that point forward, preventing the connection. I couldn’t use the original tap connectors because they’re designed for old fashioned taps with a round profile. Brainwave: I realised that the taps in the bathroom are the old fashioned sort. All I needed to do was run the hose from the bathroom sink, through a bedroom window, and down into the garden.

Today was dry and sunny again. I did some washing first and hung it on the line, and then did a few little jobs before lunch. The time came to get the hose in working order and give the garden a soak. More problems. The first old tap connector broke when I tried to unscrew it. The second one fared better, but I found that the bulldog clip was slipping so I couldn’t tighten it onto the tap. I thought it might stay on anyway if I pushed it hard enough. Several floods later, I got it to stay on. I dropped the rest of the hose through the bedroom window and went out feeling quite pleased with myself. I felt the washing on the way to the lawn. It was dry already. Perfect.

I took the leading end of the hose to the bottom of the garden and began spraying a jet of life-giving water onto a part of the garden that hasn’t had any in weeks. Within five seconds at most – no exaggeration - it started raining. I left the hose pointlessly spewing out water while I rushed to get the washing in before it got soaked. Don’t you just love days like that?

But then I had a thought. The Celtic Goddess who took me on the journey that became my novel has water as her major element. She says there’s nothing she can’t do with water, and at the end of the story she tells the human that she will give him a sign when she’s around. And so she does, with an unexpected rain shower. You think I’m joking? I could tell you about the unbelievable run of water problems I had after that strange incident in Ireland some years ago – the one I don’t tell anybody about.

No, I’m not joking. I suspect Annie was, though.