The Little Flower Shop by the Sea (20 page)

‘Did you ever consider…?’ I nod at the hole.

Jake shakes his head. ‘No, I had the kids to think about, they needed me more than ever back then. That was enough to stop me going down that route.’ He smiles at me. ‘People need you too, Poppy. You may not realise it, but they do. You have to move on with your life.’

I’m about to ask Jake which people need me, and might he be one of them, when I feel a wet nose nudge at my hand.

‘Basil,’ I say, crouching down next to him, putting my arm around his slightly podgy body.

‘
He
needs you too,’ Jake says quietly from above us.

I stroke Basil’s head, but he stands up and leans over the hole.

‘Do you think he knows?’ I ask Jake.

Jake shrugs. ‘Probably, dogs are sensitive like that, aren’t they?’

I reach across Basil to pull up a daisy that’s growing in the grass.

‘Here,’ I say, putting it under his nose, ‘we’ll throw this in for your little boy.’ I toss the daisy into the hole on top of the small wooden box, and then Basil and I sit silently for a few minutes together watching Jake fill the hole with the earth he’d dug earlier.

Then before the three of us go back into the house to visit the other puppies, we stand for a few moments with our own thoughts of those we’d lost before.

Jake is right.

I take Basil home with me that same evening – much to Amber’s delight. The two of them now get on like best buddies, even rolling around on the floor together in Basil’s more energetic moments, which aren’t too often these days, poor fella. Basil comes with us to the shop every day, and happily sits under the desk in the new dog basket we bought for him.

Basil and I have a more mature relationship than his and Amber’s. We co-habit together quite happily, and make allowances for each other’s faults, i.e. Basil puts up with me moaning about him shedding hairs everywhere, and I put up with Basil’s snoring.

We also have something in common – a love of cheese. I discover this when I’m happily tucking in to cheese on toast one day, and notice Basil sitting by my side on the balcony – drooling.

Whereas I prefer a good cheddar, Basil has a penchant for blue cheese, particularly Stilton. I know I shouldn’t give him too many titbits, but I figure the odd treat now and then won’t go amiss.

So even though I don’t admit it to anyone, I’m actually really enjoying having him around. He’s good company, and our daily walks up on the cliffs and along the beach have become the highlight of my days here in St Felix.

It’s just over six weeks since the shop first opened, and we’re almost in peak holiday season here in Cornwall. A fact that doesn’t seem to have bothered the town too much, which I find both surprising and a little worrying as I sit at the kitchen table in the cottage filling in our accounts books this morning.

Amber and I had come up with a plan for running the shop that seemed to work well for both of us. Amber was quite happy to deal with all the floral stuff – arrangements, bouquets, even the ordering of the flowers was her department. I did all the practical things – the accounts, cashing up at the end of the day, banking and ordering new ‘gift’ stock – something we hadn’t had much cause to do yet, because the shop was doing OK, but not brilliantly.

We still had a lot of support from the residents of St Felix. People would come in to buy bunches of flowers to brighten up their home, or present to someone as a gift, and Amber had had a few orders for birthday and anniversary bouquets – which had been delivered to much happiness and praise from the recipient. That was another of my jobs – delivery. I still had the Range Rover on loan – although I could have done with something a bit smaller to navigate the narrow streets of St Felix – and on the few occasions we had had orders I’d gone out in the ‘beast’, as I named it, to deliver Amber’s beautiful creations.

Even I, someone who pretty much detested flowers in all forms, could see that Amber was extremely talented when it came to things of a floral nature, and I wondered how my mother was managing to cope without her in New York.

She’d rung me several times over the last few weeks to check how I was getting on, and how Amber was doing. I’d only had good things to say about Amber, of course, and, much to my surprise, about being back in St Felix. My mother seemed happy, but much less shocked than I was that St Felix appeared to be doing me good.

‘And you’re not
seeing
anyone while you’re there?’ she asks today as I half look at the books, half concentrate on what she’s saying over the phone.

In a normal mother-and-daughter conversation this would have meant a man, but in my world it meant a therapist.

‘No, Mum, I’m not seeing anyone.’ My mother has always found it awkward, talking about my need for counselling. She rarely uses the word therapist.

‘And you’re sure you’re OK like that? We could always find you someone local, if you feel the need? I’ll pay.’

‘Not necessary. Never felt better,’ I assured her, and I meant it. As much as I found it hard to admit, this little seaside town was doing me the power of good. I felt happier than I had in ages, and if it wasn’t for the fact the shop wasn’t doing too well, everything would be great.

‘You’re sure you’re OK with me keeping Amber here?’ I ask her. ‘Aren’t you missing her?’

‘Oh, desperately, but this change will be good for her. I haven’t just sent her there to help you. I’m hoping St Felix will help Amber too.’

‘Why does Amber need help?’ I ask, wondering what she means.

‘Amber will tell you when she’s ready, I expect. Look, I have to go, your father is taking me out for lunch – some fancy revolving restaurant, he informs me.’

‘OK, Mum, happy anniversary to you both. Give my love to Dad.’

‘Of course. Take care, my darling, I’m so happy it’s all working out for you there.’

I guess it is, I think as I end the call and stare blankly at my phone for a few seconds. It’s a novel experience for me to have things working out. Who would have thought it would happen here?

My grandmother was obviously even wiser than I’d thought.

‘Right, Basil,’ I say to him as he lies at my feet under the table. ‘I think I’ve had enough numbers for the time being. How about a quick walk before we head back to the shop to see Amber?’

Basil lifts his head, takes a few moments to stretch, then begins to wag his long tail.

There aren’t too many people about in St Felix this morning as we begin our walk. It’s one of those gloomy, gusty mornings that drive the tourists indoors. The weather here is so changeable; with the turning of the tide a day that starts out like this can change into a beautiful sunny one – and, sadly, vice versa.

But even though the weather is promising bad things, we take one of our favoured routes: through the town, along the harbour’s damp sand while the tide is out, then up the long winding road that leads to Pengarthen Hill. I’m just wondering whether today might be a good time to finally take that trip up to Trecarlan Castle when a vehicle toots its horn. I turn to see Jake’s van slowing down and pulling in next to us.

Aside from working at the shop and looking after Basil, I’ve been seeing a fair bit of Jake over the last few weeks. Sometimes we’ll go for a drink together at the Merry Mermaid, or if he’s passing by at lunchtime to see Lou at the post office, he’ll pop into the shop to say hi. We’ve even eaten our lunch together a couple of times, leaning up against the harbour wall in the midday sunshine, like we had the day we’d been decorating the shop.

Jake appears to want nothing more from me than to be my friend. Even though the more time we spend together, the more attracted to him I’ve become, I’m happy for it to be that way if that’s what he wants. Jake is great company, relaxed and funny. He makes me laugh a lot, and I like that; there aren’t many people who can do that. Between him and Amber, my lips have been finding themselves turning upwards into a smile more lately than they’ve done in years.

Jake winds his passenger window down as his van pulls to a stop, and two heads poke through the gap.

‘Hey, Jake, hey, Miley,’ I say, smiling at them both.

‘It’s a windy day for a walk,’ Jake says, shifting across to the passenger seat. ‘Poor Basil will blow away.’

Miley leaps from the window down to the pavement to see Basil, who she absolutely adores. Basil, in his usual aloof way, allows Miley to hug him, but doesn’t respond.

‘Aw, Basil, we know you love her really,’ I joke, leaning down and fussing him.

Basil eyes me, then shakes himself, so Miley gets covered with the remnants of sand still left in his coat.

Jake and I both laugh as Miley tries to do the same, and gives herself a full body shake like a dog.

‘Are you busy today?’ Jake asks. ‘Only I was going to ask if you wanted to come up to the nursery later. You said you’d like to visit sometime.’

I don’t think I did actually say that. It’s more a case of Jake having asked me once and me mumbling something that sounded affirmative to be polite. For weeks he’s been offering to show me around his nurseries so I can see where most of the flowers for the shop come from. So of course I’ve had to keep making excuses not to go. I’m just about coping with a shop full of fresh flowers these days – as long as we keep the door propped open to let in lots of fresh air. But I doubt I could cope with polytunnels and greenhouses stuffed full of the things.

‘Yes… and I will,’ I say, about to make my usual excuse, but I’m saved by my phone suddenly ringing in my back pocket. ‘One moment,’ I tell him, reaching for the phone. ‘It’s Amber. Hi, Amber, what’s up?’ I ask. ‘No, I’m not at the house – I’ve taken Basil for a quick walk… Oh, right, have you tried— You have? Right, well, I’d best come back and take a look then… No, no plumbers yet, it’ll cost too much. Let me have a look first. I’ll see you in a few minutes.’ I end the call.

‘What’s wrong?’ Jake asks.

‘Apparently the sink is blocked at the shop, and Amber doesn’t know why. I’ll have to go and take a look. So, sorry, it’s no-go on the nursery visit today,’ I tell him, trying to sound disappointed.

‘Aw, shame,’ Jake says. ‘Look, I’m heading in the direction of town; would you and Basil like a lift?’

‘That would be great, thanks.’

Jake slides back over into the driver’s seat, and Basil and I climb into the passenger side, Basil sitting in the footwell, Miley sitting on my lap.

Jake grins as he sees us.

‘Quite the menagerie you have there, Miss Carmichael.’

‘Can you try and get us there as quickly as possible?’ I ask. ‘Cutting Basil short in the middle of his walk isn’t usually a great idea. He likes to pace himself, and…’ I hesitate, trying to find the polite way to phrase it: ‘his
offerings
.’

‘I’m on it!’ Jake says as he indicates and pulls out into the road and a not-so-delicate aroma begins to fill the van.

‘Perhaps you’d better wind down the window,’ I tell him apologetically. ‘He is an elderly dog.’

Jake hastily opens his window. ‘No worries,’ he says kindly. ‘Miley often has a similar problem. I’m used to it!’

On my lap Miley hides her face in her hands.

When we arrive at the shop, Jake drops the three of us outside and drives off in search of a parking place.

‘Hey, you got here quickly,’ Amber says as we pile through the open door. She looks with interest at Miley as she immediately leaps straight for the rolls of ribbons – her favourite items in the shop. ‘Were you with Jake? I thought you were walking Basil?’

‘We bumped into Jake on our walk and he kindly gave us a lift back,’ I tell her while I remove Basil’s lead and get him settled with fresh water in his bowl. ‘What’s up with this sink?’

‘It’s blocked,’ Amber says, as we leave Miley happily playing with the ribbons and head for the back room to examine the sink. ‘I tried to empty a vase of water down it but it won’t go – look.’

I peer inside the large Belfast sink and see dirty flower water lying stagnant at the bottom of the ceramic white porcelain. I wrinkle up my nose. ‘Yuck, it stinks!’

‘I know, that’s why I was changing the water in the bucket.’

‘Do we have a plunger?’ I ask.

‘A what?’

‘A plunger. Oh, what do you call it in America? Like a rubber thing with a wooden handle – you use it to suck stuff out of sinks.’

‘Yeah, we call that a plunger too.’

‘Do we have one?’

Amber shrugs. ‘Haven’t seen one about the place.’

The shop bell rings. ‘What seems to be the trouble, ladies?’ Jake calls, coming round the desk to the back room. ‘Do you need a man’s help?

‘Not unless you have a plunger on you,’ I answer, riled as always by Jake’s often old-fashioned attitude.

‘Well…’ Jake grins, and Amber laughs.

‘We could maybe borrow one?’ Amber suggests.

‘Or I could pop back to my house and get one for you?’ Jake says. ‘Take me a few minutes. But we definitely have one – I used it not so long ago in our bathroom.’

‘No, it’s quite all right, thank you. I’ll take a look underneath. It might be the pipe that’s blocked. I’ve seen my dad do this loads of times.’

‘I can do that for you,’ Jake offers as I get down on my hands and knees. ‘Save you getting dirty.’