THERE’s a hidden battle for supremacy going on in our gardens with the results of that undercover war only showing in our flowers and fruit.

Cross-pollination of all sorts of plants takes place, most often resulting in hybrids returning to their wild roots, with dominant genes taking charge.

I promise that this is the last mention of tomatoes in this column until next year but I just have to because I have developed two different types on one plant, the result of that genetic bush battle.

I was surprised when Stan Jackson’s Queen of Hearts plant produced toms the size of tennis balls earlier in the season and without the distinctive heart shape. Then, a few weeks’ later, higher up the stem, the trusses bore familiar, diminutive, Queens.

Old Stan’s fruit has obviously cross pollinated in the past and the different genes are having a bit of a tussle.

It will take several generations of keeping the fruit of choice and planting the seed to bring the old Queen back on track...

As so often happens, I received an email which chimed with my own gardening experience.

Barrie James does himself down more than a little when describing himself as “an absolutely hopeless gardener” but redeems himself with the comment that he reads my column with interest as he is keen to improve. “However, even I can seethat there is something unusual about a rose in our garden,” Barrie says.

“We’ve had it for many years now, and it’s older than the fence behind it. I must admit to being very surprised when I saw the two different pink flowers on one head.

“It’s the first time this has happened, have you any idea as to why they should be like that..?”

Well, Barrie, it’s probably one of two things. Temperature can affect rose bloom colour. A cool spring will produce more vibrant blooms, but when that’s followed by hot, dry, conditions the new flowers will often be paler or smaller because the roots can’t suck up enough water.

A similar effect can be produced by a “sport” — a shoot which comes from around the graft and can produce flowers of slightly different hue.

l After more than 20 years I am sadly severing my ties with my Sandlands allotments at Seaview.

My new veg patch has taken the place of my old plots — and I do apologise to the new tenant for the state of them, but it’s been a case of spreading myself too thinly.

I hope she, or he, gets as much joy out of the place and the people as I did and that it inspires a new generation of gardeners as it did my daughter, Roseanna, who now has an allotment of her own — sadly on the other side of The Solent.