The Little Flower Shop by the Sea (39 page)

‘I know it does.’ He brushes my hair away from my face as the wind tries its best to cover it back up again. ‘Are you talking about a particular person that left you?’ Jake asks. ‘We’ve all had losses in our lives that have affected us – family, friends, animals too,’ he gestures back towards the sitting room and Basil. ‘But nothing ever hurt like losing Felicity. I thought my life was over. It was only the kids and then Miley that got me through. Without them, I’d have lost the plot.’

‘I did,’ I tell him, still looking up into his kind, deep brown eyes. ‘I lost the plot for a while. I went way off the rails too, if we’re looking for euphemisms for a mental breakdown. Actually it wasn’t a while, it was more like fifteen years.’

Jake opens his eyes wide. ‘So when did you regain
the plot
?’

‘Not long after I came back to St Felix.’ I look at the town down below us, then I shake my head. ‘I can’t believe I’m saying this, but this town, an enchanted little flower shop, and a group of lovely people, you included, have done more for me than fifteen years of therapists ever did.’

Jake doesn’t look in the least shocked by my revelations.

‘You know I’m going to ask this, Poppy,’ he says gently, ‘but what on earth happened to you, for you to need
fifteen years
of therapy?’

Jake makes us all a cup of tea and some toast.

Amber has woken up too and has joined us in the kitchen.

I think she realised something was up. The moment she appeared from her room, she asked if we wanted to be left alone.

‘No, Amber, it’s about time I told you this story too,’ I’d said, gesturing for her to join me at the table. ‘You deserve to know the truth as well.’

Amber had looked at Jake, who just shrugged, then she’d sat down at the kitchen table opposite me while Jake had made us breakfast.

Now we’re all sitting around Rose’s scrubbed wooden table, waiting. Waiting for me to begin my sorry tale.

‘OK, I’m ready,’ I tell them eventually, putting down my cup of tea.

As they both sit watching me, I take a deep breath and begin.

‘You both know that I used to come to St Felix on holiday when I was young?’

They nod.

‘I used to come with my older brother, Will. We didn’t visit every school holiday; Mum and Dad would sometimes take us other places. But for a few weeks each summer Will and I would take the train down from London as far as we could into Cornwall, then Rose would pick us up at the station in her little banger of a car and drive us the last few miles to St Felix.’

I smile as I remember my grandmother’s red Mini.

‘Will and I loved St Felix. We were never happier than when we were playing on the beach, or in Rose’s shop, or up at Trecarlan Castle with Stan telling us tales of the castle’s past. We didn’t really believe his stories, especially as we grew older…’ I pause for a moment to reflect. ‘It’s so bizarre to think that some of those stories might actually have been true.’ I shake my head, ‘Sorry, I’m getting off track. So, like I said, we were never happier than when we were staying with Rose. Will and I got on really well, far better than brothers and sisters should. Naturally, we’d argue occasionally; I was a lot livelier, I guess you’d call it, than Will. He was quiet and studious, but the best brother I could have wished for. I was always getting him into scrapes, but he never once told on me – he was loyal like that.’ I stop again, memories of Will flooding back into my mind and heart.

I look at Jake. ‘Your two remind me a lot of Will and me when we were that age. Charlie is very like Will was, and Bronte, well she has that wild streak in her that I had in me.’

‘Don’t I know it!’ Jake agrees, and we all smile for a moment.

‘So, anyway,’ I was getting to the difficult bit of the story, the part I never talked about with anyone. Not even any of the therapists I’d had had been able to coax this particular story out of me. ‘One time when we were staying here with my grandmother I wanted to go to this concert up at Padstow, but Will didn’t want to go – bands and concerts weren’t really his thing. But I kept badgering him to take me. I was only fifteen and I knew that Rose wouldn’t let me go on my own, but if Will went, at seventeen, Rose would think I was safe.’

I swallow hard. If only I hadn’t done that… if only I could turn back time and change that decision.

But I’d learned over the years that, however hard I wished, whatever bargain I made with God, it never happened, and my life carried on the same miserable way.

Amber puts her hand over mine. ‘Take your time, Poppy. We’re in no hurry.’

I nod, but like pulling off a plaster, I knew the quicker I did this the less painful it might be.

‘So in the end Will relented and we went to the concert together. It was his worst nightmare: a huge field packed full of party-goers out to have a good time. I thought it was marvellous, and the most exciting thing I’d ever been to, and I dragged Will as far into the centre of all the mayhem as I could. We were squashed together like sardines in that field; I think the farmer had allowed too many people in that night. But I felt exhilarated and was loving every minute of it.’

I can feel myself getting clammy as I remember exactly what it felt like that night: hot, sweaty and loud. Very loud. I pull my hoody, that I’d put on to get me warm after standing out on the balcony with Jake for too long, back over my head. I lay it down on the chair next to me, then I flatten down my hair. ‘Sorry, getting a bit hot.’

Jake and Amber nod sympathetically, but I know they just want to hear what happened next.

‘So we were enjoying ourselves, jumping away to the music with the rest of the crowd – well, I was, I’d never felt so alive.’ I wince at my choice of words, but the other two don’t know why and wait patiently for me to continue. ‘Then, in between songs, I turn around to see how Will is doing.’ I stop and try to breathe evenly; retelling this is beginning to feel like I’m reliving it. ‘But he looks ill, very ill – even in the dark I can see that. Then I notice he’s clutching at his neck and he can’t breathe properly. Suddenly he drops to the ground, and people around him move aside to give him some air…’ I’m aware I’m talking as though it’s happening right now in front of me, and it really feels as if it is, the pain and panic is just as real and intense. ‘So I kneel on the grass next to him, but now he’s closing his eyes. I scream then, scream really loud, and even more people turn to see what’s happening. But no one does anything to help, and I don’t know what to do to help him. So I begin shouting, asking people to get an ambulance and fast. But no one seems to be doing anything, and no one comes to help us. And all the while the band keeps playing – they don’t know any of this is happening, we’re right in the middle of a huge dark field, they can’t see us.’

I take deep breaths and exhale to try and calm myself.

‘It’s OK, Poppy,’ Amber soothes. ‘Take your time.’

I nod at her. ‘It’s then that Will reaches out for me, and I take his hand. He squeezes my hand so weakly that it scares me, but I continue to hold on tightly, all the time praying someone will come, praying that my brother will be all right.’

I glance at Jake, but I barely see him, because I’m right back in that field, living every horrific moment of it over again.

‘And it’s then that I know he won’t be OK. It’s as if someone is trying to tell me something, because the band have started singing their biggest hit, “Flowers on a Breeze”, and above us thousands of rose petals are being blown across the field from one of those great wind machines. The rose petals float down, landing on Will’s body, they cover his face, and I try to push them away to keep his airways clear, but they just keep coming, more and more petals, cascading down on us, and it’s then that I feel Will’s grip begin to loosen on my hand.’

I close my eyes as I sit at the kitchen table, the memories too real and too painful to bear.

‘I’m aware I’m screaming,’ I continue. ‘I’m aware that the crowd is parting and someone’s coming through. And it’s then they arrive, the paramedics in their green uniforms. I get pushed aside so they can do their job, and I lose my grip on Will’s hand. But I know it’s too late. I know as his hand slips out of mine, I’ve lost him for ever.’

I open my eyes to look at Jake and Amber. Amber has tears streaming down her face, like she had last night with Basil, and Jake looks drawn and pale as if he’s living through his own personal anguish again as well as mine. Even Miley sits quietly in the corner, playing with some plastic bottles Amber had given her.

‘They told me afterwards they just couldn’t get through the crowds of revellers, that’s why they didn’t come sooner,’ I explain. ‘They tried to help him, tried to revive him there and then using those big electric pads you see on
Casualty
. But they couldn’t bring him back. He died before they got there.’

I lift my trembling chin and look them both in the eyes. ‘My lovely brother died in a muddy field covered in stupid rose petals.’ I bang my fist on the table in frustration. ‘And if that wasn’t bad enough, it was all my fault.’

‘No, Poppy!’ Amber cries out across the table. ‘Don’t be silly, of course it wasn’t your fault!’

‘It was! If I hadn’t persuaded him to go to the concert, it wouldn’t have happened.’

‘Did he have a heart defect, like Felicity?’ Jake asks sombrely.

I nod. ‘Yes. That’s what the post-mortem found.’

‘Then you know it wasn’t your fault. It could have happened at any time.’

‘But if I hadn’t dragged him there, if we hadn’t been in the middle of a field, then the paramedics would have got to him quicker. They might have saved him.’

‘That’s an awful lot of mights and ifs,’ Jake says. ‘You don’t know that, Poppy, and beating yourself up over it isn’t going to bring him back. Believe me, I know: I tried long enough.’

‘So is that why you don’t like crowds and flowers?’ Amber asks. ‘It makes sense you wouldn’t, after what happened.’

‘You noticed?’ I ask. ‘I thought I’d hidden the flower thing quite well since I’ve been here.’

‘Of course I’ve noticed,’ Amber says supportively. ‘I was just waiting for you to tell me why.’

‘When I first returned to St Felix I hated flowers with a vengeance, and not just because of the rose petals at the gig, but because of all the flowers that were sent to our house afterwards in condolence, and then all the flowers that were at Will’s funeral. That used to be what I associated flowers with – death. It’s roses I have the most issues with, obviously; the rest I could just about hack, but roses…’ I shudder. ‘Just the sight or smell of a rose can make me feel nauseous; make me feel like I’m back in that field. All my therapists have tried to cure me of it, and all of them have failed.’

‘Is that why you ran away that day at my nursery?’ Jake asks. ‘Because you could smell the flowers?’

I nod. ‘I’m so sorry; I know you thought it was to do with you, but really it wasn’t. It was all those roses you said you had stored in there.’

Jake smiles a little. ‘That’s a relief. I was convinced it was me.’

‘For some reason I’ve been a lot better recently. It’s as if Daisy Chain and St Felix have helped to cure me. I can see now how happy they make people. In fact, how happy they’d started to make me feel – until last night.’

Amber nods. ‘Yes, it’s always amazed me that flowers can mean so many different things to so many people. One moment they’re in sympathy, the next celebration. What other living thing can represent so many different emotions?’

We all think about this for a moment.

‘So, tell us some more about Will,’ Jake says quietly, breaking into our thoughts. ‘You’ve mentioned therapy before. Did you go off the rails a bit after his death?’

‘Not a bit, a hell of a lot,’ I tell him. ‘I went from being an A-grade student who promised much, to…’ I smile. ‘I suppose you’d call me a juvenile delinquent. I was in trouble with the law, was sectioned for my own good, then when I’d got through that and they thought I was safe enough to be let out, there was a string of jobs, none of which I could hold down for long. I was the black sheep of the family. Whereas everyone else followed into the family business, I refused to follow tradition.’

‘That’s not always a bad thing,’ Jake says. ‘Sometimes I wish I’d done the same.’

I put my hand over Jake’s. I know he’s talking about his job with the animals.

Suddenly there’s a knock at the door, and we all look at each other in surprise.

‘It’ll probably be Woody, wondering how we all are this morning,’ Amber says as she jumps up to answer it.

‘Hi, Amber.’ I hear Ash’s voice at the open door, and I immediately pull my hand away from Jake’s. ‘Is Poppy in?’

Amber steps aside and Ash comes through the door looking fresh-faced, unlike the rest of us. He’s wearing a white T-shirt and blue jeans, and his eyes immediately fall on me sitting at the table, and then they move very quickly to Jake.

‘Jake?’ He looks at him questioningly. ‘I didn’t think you’d be here at this time of the morning, and –’ he casts his eyes suspiciously over Jake’s attire – ‘still wearing the same clothes you had on yesterday.’

‘I think I’d better go, Poppy,’ Jake says, standing up. ‘I’ll go back to my house first, get freshened up, then I’ll contact the vet for you.’