I was given a rose bush by my lover, Rex, a landscape gardener. He promised me the buds would become gorgeous blooms. He promised me many things: that I was his one and only; that he would love me forever, and that our love would flower like the abundant rose bush, called ‘Sexy Rexy’, a compact variety of floribunda. Cute, eh?

But my beloved proved himself false, and went planting seeds elsewhere. My heart was broken and barren, like stony ground where nothing lovely would flourish again.

The bush had been placed in a pot by my front door. Whenever I went through that door the rose was a constant reminder of my lost love, and I began to hate it. Not capable of actively killing one of nature's innocent creations, I found it impossible to pull out the plant or snap off its buds and branches.

However, I decided to kill ‘Sexy Rexy’ through neglect. To avoid having to walk past it every day, I put the disgraced bush in my back yard and did not water it. Time passed. The bush drooped and withered more and more. The leaves fell off; the buds shrivelled. I stopped looking at it, and my hatred waned.

Then one day, a flash of colour caught my eye. ‘Sexy Rexy’ had sprung into glorious life! There, in blushing beauty, was a single rose, stunning in its perfection – ready to be plucked and placed on Rex's grave. No one ever knew that I was the hit-and-run driver of the mystery white car. I felt so much better after that.

And the moral of the story is rather long-winded, but an important message from the Book of Ecclesiastes: “To everything there is a season, A time for every purpose under heaven: A time to be born, And a time to die; A time to plant, And a time to pluck what is planted; A time to kill, And a time to heal."