I meant to ask Hatty questions about the garden,' Tom wrote to Peter, 'but somehow I forgot.' He always forgot. In the daytime, in the Kitsons' flat, he thought only of the garden, and sometimes he wondered about it: where it came from, what it all meant. Then he planned cunning questions to put to Hatty, that she would have to answer fully and without fancy; but each night, when he walked into the garden, he forgot to be a detective, and instead remembered only that he was a boy and this was the garden for a boy and that Hatty was his playmate.