The Little Flower Shop by the Sea (36 page)

‘Isabelle, why?’

‘Because that was the name of the girl Stan fell in love with, the person he gave his third picture to – it
must
be the same woman.’

‘It’s a mighty coincidence,’ Jake says, frowning.

Bronte is still trying to hear what we’re saying, so I guide Jake out into the back room.

‘Perhaps, but what was Felicity’s family background? If you don’t mind me asking, of course,’ I add, realising I could be treading on delicate ground here.

‘No, it’s fine, I don’t mind telling you. She grew up with her mother near Oxford, then —’

‘Mother?’ I interrupt. ‘What about a father?’

‘Isabelle brought Felicity up on her own as a single mother. Felicity never knew who her father was.’ Jake smiles. ‘I think I told you before how keen Felicity was for us to move back here because her mother had grown up in St Felix. Isabelle had to leave suddenly though; I think when she fell pregnant with Felicity. Having babies out of wedlock was frowned upon in small towns like this, even in the seventies.’

I stare at Jake.

‘What?’ he asks.

‘It all fits, doesn’t it? What you just said, with Stan’s story. He told me Isabelle had to leave St Felix suddenly and he never knew why.’

‘Oh…’ Jake says suddenly realising. ‘But if this Stan is Felicity’s father, that would mean…’

‘That Bronte and Charlie have a grandfather they’ve never met and –’ I swallow as a lump forms in my throat – ‘that Stan has the family he’s always longed for.’

Jake and I dash to Jake’s house, having called Amber and told her what’s happening so that she could go to the shop to be with Bronte.

It took her a while to get there because she’d been up at Trecarlan helping with the clean-up operation, which hadn’t been due to start until this afternoon.

‘What’s going on?’ Bronte had asked. ‘Why all the secrecy?’

‘No secret, Bron,’ Jake had said. ‘We just want to make sure the picture stays safe if it’s as old as Poppy thinks it is.’

But Bronte had not looked convinced.

‘Are you going to take Basil with you?’ Amber had swiftly changed the subject for us, and we’d all looked at Basil curled up in his basket.

I’d gone over to him and rubbed his ear. ‘What do you think, Bas? Do you want another walk?’

Basil had looked up into my eyes, then he’d licked my hand before settling back down and closing his eyes.

‘We had a long walk this morning,’ I’d told the others. ‘He seems quite tired, perhaps it’s best just to leave him to rest.’

So we’d set off for Jake’s house just the two of us.

When we arrive we immediately go around the back of the house to one of the sheds that stands there.

‘Right,’ Jake says, opening the door. ‘The boxes are in here, I believe. Let’s see if this picture really is the right one.’

He pulls out a couple of cardboard boxes packed with pictures and ornaments, and we look through the contents.

‘That’s weird,’ Jake says after we’ve been through both boxes. ‘It should be in here.’

‘Could it have fallen out?’ I ask, looking around the inside of the shed. But all I can see are a couple of bikes and a lawnmower.

Jake shakes his head. ‘No, I distinctly remember Bronte packing all the stuff carefully into boxes.’

‘Would Charlie know anything?’ I ask, desperate to find the picture. If this was the right one, we only had to find the missing Trecarlan picture and we had a full set.

‘He might,’ Jake says. ‘Let’s go see.’

We head into the house.

‘Charlie!’ Jake calls. ‘Are you here?’

Charlie appears at the top of the stairs with Miley. He has a towel wrapped around his middle and has obviously just come out of the shower. Miley looks like she might have joined him – her fur is all damp and fluffy.

‘Yeah, Dad, what’s up? Oh hi, Poppy, didn’t see you there.’ He gives me a wave. ‘Thanks for arranging that surfing session with Ash this morning. It was the best fun I’ve had in ages.’

‘Not a problem,’ I say, not looking at Jake.

But Jake has his arms full – literally. Miley has slid down the banisters to greet him.

‘Hey, Miley,’ Jake says, catching her and deftly hoisting her on to his shoulder. ‘Ooh, you’re all wet. Have you been letting her go under the shower again, Charlie?’

Charlie, grinning, just shrugs.

‘Do you remember those boxes of pictures and stuff from the landing that Bronte packed up?’ Jake asks him.

‘Yeah.’

‘What happened to them?’

‘They went into the shed, didn’t they?’

‘What, all of them?’

‘The stuff we wanted to keep, the other lot went to the jumble.’

Jake looks at me.

‘What jumble, Charlie?’ he asks quietly.

‘For the church. You said yesterday to put a box of stuff out for the Women’s Guild who’d be by to collect some for their sale.’

‘And did they?’ Jake asks, screwing his face up.

‘Sure, Willow came by yesterday morning. Why?’ Charlie asks. ‘What’s wrong?’

‘It must be in there,’ Jake says, looking at me. ‘The stuff must have got mixed up. It’s the only explanation.’

‘And you say Willow Wilson has it?’ he calls back up the stairs.

‘She was the one who collected it,’ Charlie says. ‘Why, what’s wrong?’

‘I’ll explain later,’ Jake calls. ‘Right now we have to go to Willow’s.’

Willow’s cottage is over on the other side of town.

‘What if she’s not home?’ I ask worriedly as I march along next to Jake. He takes such big purposeful strides that I’m jealous of little Miley riding along on his broad shoulders.

‘Then we come back another time,’ Jake says firmly. ‘We have to find this picture, Poppy. If what you say is true and Stan is indeed Bronte and Charlie’s grandfather, then I want to help him.’

‘But it’s Felicity’s picture,’ I continue. ‘Don’t you want to hold on to something that was hers?’

Jake stops walking. ‘Poppy,’ he says, turning towards me, ‘I have many things that were Felicity’s, and even if I didn’t, I would always have my memories. The picture is the past, and we should always concentrate on the present. If this picture can help Stan, then I’m all for doing what we can with it.’

‘Thank you,’ I tell him as we begin to walk again. ‘Do you think Lou will feel the same when we tell
her
about the pictures?’

‘I know she will,’ Jake says. ‘She’s always had a soft spot for Stan. She often talks about him. But until today I didn’t know why.’

By the time we arrive at Willow’s, the sun is starting to sink behind her roof as the afternoon turns into evening.

Willow answers the door just before Jake can knock a second time.

‘Oh, Jake…’ she says looking surprised to see him. ‘Er… lovely party last night.’ Then she sees me. ‘And Poppy too?’ she says, sounding rather less friendly. She glances behind her. ‘What can I do for you both?’

‘Did you pick some jumble up from my house yesterday?’ Jake asks, quickly getting to the point. Miley climbs down from his shoulder and sits quietly in his arms as though she senses something serious is happening.

‘I did, yes, it was most generous of you, Jake, thank you.’

‘Can I have it back?’

‘What?’

‘I’d like the box back, please, it contains something it shouldn’t.’

‘Oh I’m not sure —’

‘Please, Willow, it’s important,’ I beg.

Willow gives me a cold look. ‘Sorry, can’t,’ she says flatly.

‘Why not?’ Jake asks, while I’m wondering why Willow is behaving so oddly.

‘Because she doesn’t have it any more,’ a voice says from behind Willow, and we see Ash appear, looking tired and dishevelled.

It’s the first time I’ve seen him since last night. I’d had every intention this morning of finding him and apologising, but things had got out of hand with the pictures, and the day had slipped by before I knew it. I wonder how much of what happened last night Ash had told his sister? Quite a lot, if her behaviour towards me is anything to go by.

Ash glares at me behind Willow’s shoulder. Then he sees Jake and his expression darkens further, so Miley covers her eyes.

Jake, sensing all is not well, looks from one of us to the other.

‘Right, well, if you don’t have it, Willow,’ he continues, obviously deciding now is not the time to prompt for further information, ‘then might I ask exactly where my box of jumble is?’

Willow looks at me with disdain before turning to Jake. ‘I’m only telling you this, Jake, because I don’t blame you in any way.’

‘Right…’ Jake nods. ‘That’s good you feel that way about my jumble.’

Willow is the one to look confused now. ‘All the jumble for the sale is being held in one place,’ she says eventually.

‘And that is…?’ Jake prompts.

‘At Caroline Harrington-Smythe’s house.’

‘Caroline!’ I say, as the door closes on Willow’s cottage and Jake and I are left outside. ‘Of all the people. If I ask Caroline for anything she’ll say no – she hates me.’

‘Then let me do the talking,’ Jake says. ‘She won’t say no to me.’

We begin to walk to Caroline’s house on the outskirts of St Felix.

‘So what’s up with you and Ash?’ Jake asks casually as we march along.

‘Oh, that. I think I upset him at your party.’

‘Why?’

‘He knows it was you I was with last night when I disappeared, and he thinks…’ I pause. ‘He thinks something went on between us.’

‘Oh.’ Jake pulls a face. ‘That’s not good. Perhaps if I spoke to him. Told him there’s nothing going on. That we’re just friends…’

I look at Jake and desperately want to scream, ‘But we’re more than that, aren’t we?’ Luckily for me, at that moment we bump into Lou out walking Suzy.

‘Where are you two off to in such a rush?’ she asks. ‘And without Basil.’

‘He was a bit tired,’ I explain. ‘I left him at the shop with Amber, but –’ I look at my watch – ‘I expect they’ve shut up and gone home by now.’

Lou looks at Jake expectantly.

‘Oh, just tell her, Jake,’ I say, ‘she’ll need to know soon anyway.’

Lou looks at us, puzzled. ‘Tell me what?’

Jake and I explain everything to do with the flower pictures as quickly as we can – including Stan’s story of how they came to be in the hands of the owners they’re with now.

‘Well,’ Lou says when we’ve finished, ‘it doesn’t surprise me one bit. That Stan was always a bit of a devil when he was younger.’

‘You’re not upset?’ I ask. I had been worried what Lou might think about Stan and his ‘other women’.

‘No, of course not. It was all a long time ago, and if these pictures can help old Stan in his twilight years, then good luck to you.’

‘You’ll give us your picture then?’ I ask, surprised she’s agreed so easily.

‘Well, I would if I had it,’ Lou says sadly.

‘What do you mean? I saw it hanging on your wall not that long ago.’

‘Yes, indeed it was. It’s been there for many a year. But I took it down when I decorated, and when I went to hang it up again it was gone. I’ve looked everywhere around my house, but nothing.’

‘That’s very odd,’ Jake says. ‘Lou, are you missing anything else?’

She shakes her head. ‘Nope, just that.’

‘Has anyone unusual been at your house?’ I ask, my senses beginning to tingle. ‘Anyone who wouldn’t usually be there?’

‘No, not that I can think of. I don’t have many visitors. I always go out to meet people. St Felix is a lovely place for meet-ups, you know.’

I sigh, it seems we’ve no sooner found one picture than we’ve lost another.

‘Wait a minute,’ Lou says, ‘the Women’s Guild held their committee meeting at my cottage a few weeks ago. You might say that was unusual – we normally go to Caroline’s or someone with a bigger house than mine. It was a bit of a squeeze.’

Jake and I turn to each other with the same look on our faces.

‘Caroline!’ we say in unison.

We arrive at Caroline’s house. It’s completely enclosed in its own grounds, surrounded by a high red-brick wall, and as we walk cautiously up the drive, it’s all I can do to remain calm.

‘It’s her, isn’t it?’ I seethe, as our shoes crunch along the gravel. ‘She’s the one behind all this!’

‘We don’t know that, Poppy,’ Jake says. ‘It might just be a coincidence.’

‘Yeah, right, and I’m Claudia Schiffer.’

Jake grins at me. ‘You may have changed since you’ve been in St Felix, Poppy, but not
that
much!’

‘You know what I mean. I’ll tell you what, Jake, if it’s not Caroline behind these missing pictures then I’ll… I’ll… I’ll promise you never to wear black again, and you’ll see me forevermore in all the colours of the rainbow!’

‘Blimey, you are confident,’ Jake says as we approach the house. ‘I have to say, I like the thought of seeing you forevermore. I’d half thought you might disappear at the end of the summer and head back to London.’