The Little Flower Shop by the Sea (7 page)

‘Poppy?’ Jake asks. ‘Same as before?’

‘Oh,
both
of you were in here earlier?’ A flicker of annoyance crosses Belle’s pretty face.

‘Only for a quick drink,’ I tell her. ‘Yes, same as earlier, please, Jake.’

I wonder whether I should have chosen a slightly more elegant drink, but beer’s what I like. I’m not going to change just to keep up with Belle.

And even if I did, a different-shaped glass wouldn’t change much about me. Belle is pretty, delicate and graceful. With her long, flowing, blonde locks and her petite frame she’s like a perfect china doll. I glance down at my heavy boots and black baggy clothes. At five foot nine I suddenly feel very tall and cumbersome. I might as well be Darth Vader standing next to Princess Leia.

‘Back again?’ Richie enquires of Jake as he finally arrives at our end of the bar. ‘And this time you’ve got
two
lovely ladies with you. I don’t know how you do it, Jakey-boy!’

Jake grimaces and puts his order in while I look around to see who Richie means. Then it dawns on me that I’m supposed to be the second of the two lovely ladies.

I don’t get referred to as
lovely
very often. In fact it never happens at all.

‘Did you get settled into your grandmother’s cottage all right?’ Richie asks me while he carefully pulls two pints of beer from the pump. ‘She has a stunning view of the bay from there, I believe.’

‘Yes, thank you, and yes, she does. It was a bit too misty today to see anything, but on a clear day it’s beautiful.’

‘Sorry about Rita earlier,’ he says as he places the first pint down on the bar, and lifts a glass to begin pouring the second. ‘She gets a bit carried away sometimes.’

‘It’s fine, really. I’d rather someone said something to my face than behind my back any day.’

‘Hear, hear to that sentiment, young lady!’ Richie’s blue eyes flicker briefly from the pint glass towards me, then back down again as if he’s considering something. ‘That flower shop is very special to the two of us, you know?’

‘I got that feeling earlier. Rita seemed very keen for me to keep it going.’

Richie nods, he places the second pint down next to the first, and reaches for a bottle of white wine.

‘Usually I’m not one to believe in anything magical, you see,’ he continues, focusing on pouring the wine into a glass. ‘But your grandmother and her flowers were kind of instrumental in us getting this place.’

‘Really?’

He nods and places the white wine down with the other drinks. ‘Yes, I don’t know what she did, Poppy, or how she did it, but we have a lot to thank that lady for. That’ll be £9.80, please.’

‘But how did she help you?’ I begin to ask, as Jake automatically reaches into his pocket and hands Richie a ten-pound note.

‘You bought the round earlier,’ I protest, reaching for my purse. ‘Let me pay for this one.’

‘No, I didn’t, it was free, remember?’ Jake says. ‘Plus I can’t have ladies buying me drinks.’

I look to Belle for support, but she doesn’t say anything, she simply picks up her wine glass and takes a sip, so I’m torn between pressing Richie for more information about my grandmother, and pursuing this misdemeanour on Jake’s part.

‘Don’t be so old fashioned,’ I tell Jake, letting Richie escape along the bar to new customers, after Jake refuses his offer of change. ‘Women can buy men drinks.’

‘Hmm… yeah, I know,’ Jake says, absent-mindedly sipping on his own pint and looking around to see if there’s a table for us. ‘Belle, is that a table over there? Are those folk leaving?’

Belle moves along the bar to take a look.

‘But you don’t like it though, do you?’ I persist, the feminist in me bubbling to the surface.

‘What?’ he asks, turning back to me.

‘The thought of me buying you a drink?’

‘I can’t say I’ve given the thought of you buying me a drink any consideration, since we only met for the first time this afternoon. Oh look, Belle’s waving, she’s got that table.’

Jake summons Miley and starts to make his way across to the other side of the pub, so I have no choice but to follow him. Oh my God he can be so irritating. How did he always seem to get the better of me, whatever I said? And more to the point, why did I care so much about someone who, as he had quite rightly pointed out a few seconds ago, I’d only just met?

‘So what are you going to do with the flower shop?’ Belle asks after we’ve been sat down a while.

I’d misjudged Belle when I’d first met her. Aside from her perfection, and her obvious interest in Jake, she is very nice. Belle seems to be one of those very irritating, naturally pretty people that you want to hate, but can’t find any reason to.

‘I’m not sure right now,’ I reply truthfully in answer to her question. ‘The shop stirs up a lot of memories for me – some good, some bad. Part of me would be relieved to see the back of it, but then another part…’

‘Doesn’t want to let it go?’ Belle answers knowingly.

I nod. ‘Yes. However, what I do know is I’m not really cut out for selling flowers, it’s definitely not my thing.’

‘What makes you say that?’ she asks, sounding genuinely interested.

‘I just know,’ I tell her, without explaining further. ‘Whatever happens with the shop, me and flowers – it’s never going to happen.’

Jake smiles into his beer.

‘What’s so amusing?’ I ask.

‘Nothing,’ he says, swilling his pint around, still grinning. But then he changes his mind and looks up at me. ‘Well… you actually.’

‘Go on,’ I tell him, as my arms automatically fold across my body protectively. I lean back in my chair and I raise one eyebrow.

Teresa, my current therapist, would have a fit if she could see me now. This was exactly the type of pose she’d spent months easing me out of adopting every time I felt threatened. That was the next stage after coming up with strategies to prevent me from verbally attacking anyone who I felt criticised me in any way.

‘For someone so young, you’re very set in your ways,’ Jake says, regarding me thoughtfully.

I’m unsure which part of his statement to tackle first, so I take both at the same time. ‘Firstly, I’m not sure what you mean by young? I’m thirty, so I’m hardly a teenager.’ Both Belle and Jake look astonished by this. Which does not surprise me; most people think I’m younger than I am. I guess I should be flattered. ‘And as for “set in my ways”,’ I continue, before Jake can speak, ‘what about you, back there at the bar?’ I gesture towards Rita, who’s pulling a pint. ‘“I can’t have ladies buying me drinks,”’ I say in a deep, dull-sounding voice, supposedly mimicking Jake, when really he sounds nothing like this at all. His voice
is
deep, but it’s also gentle and soft at the same time. ‘However,’ I eye Jake across the table, ‘I guess you can’t help being stuck in your ways when you reach your age, can you?’

Belle sits with her empty wine glass held up to her lips, her mouth open in astonishment as she witnesses my acerbic response.

Jake watches me, his impassive face not telling me anything at all.

‘I’m forty this year, since we’re sharing birthdays,’ he says steadily. ‘Don’t worry about a card though, and I know you won’t be sending flowers. It’s not
your thing
, is it?’

Damn, he’s got me again!

I’m about to reply when I feel a tap on my shoulder.

I turn to find a small, slim woman with auburn hair pulled up into a tight chignon standing behind me. She’s wearing a navy cardigan, a white blouse, a string of tiny pearls around her neck, and tan three-quarter-length trousers with flat black pumps.

‘Caroline Harrington-Smythe,’ she says, thrusting a cold hand into mine.

‘Hi…’ I reply, cautiously shaking her hand.

‘You know who I am, obviously, so I won’t go through the formal introductions. Jake, Belle,’ she says, nodding curtly at them both.

‘Actually, I don’t,’ I say, feeling like I should put my hand up before I ask her a question.

She looks extremely put out by my admission, as though anyone entering St Felix should have been given a leaflet explaining who Caroline Harrington-Smythe is, with her opening times, fire exit locations and parking arrangements included.

‘Oh… oh, I see.’ She glares at a smirking Jake. He hastily picks up his near-empty pint glass and tries to find a few last dregs at the bottom. ‘Let me start again then,’ she says in her clipped, cultured voice. ‘I’m Caroline Harrington-Smythe, president of the St Felix Women’s Guild, and chairwoman of the Parish Council.’

She waits for my response.

I stare blankly back at her. Am I supposed to congratulate her on her achievements?

She sighs impatiently when I don’t respond. ‘Rita behind the bar informs me you are the new owner of the flower shop on Harbour Street?’

‘Yes, that’s correct.’

‘Only the Women’s Guild have been running the flower shop for some time now —’

‘Yes, thank you, it was very kind —’

‘— and I’m not sure how the ladies are going to react to this news. The Daisy Chain has become very dear to them. Have you purchased the shop?’

‘No, I’m Rose’s granddaughter. She left it to me in her will.’

‘
You,
are her granddaughter?’ she asks, her eyes wide, as though this information has come as something of a shock to her.

‘Yes, does that cause you a problem?’

I don’t know whether Caroline has this effect on everyone, but judging by Jake’s reaction to her arrival at our table tonight I suspect she probably does. All I know is she’s beginning to wind me right up.

‘That depends on what you intend to do with the shop.’ Caroline straightens her cardigan in a business-like manner. ‘We can’t have just anything on Harbour Street. If you’re thinking of selling up, then the Parish Council need to be informed.’

‘Like I keep telling
everyone
,’ I glance around the table at the other two, ‘I’m not sure what I’m going to do with the shop yet. I haven’t decided.’

Caroline’s steely grey eyes look me up and down. ‘I have to say, you don’t look the florist type,’ she announces with disdain. ‘Perhaps it is time for a change?’

My usual reaction to this sort of provocation would be to bite immediately, but we’re in a public place and people are beginning to look. I don’t want to cause a scene on my first day here. So I bite my lip instead.

‘Your grandmother was never much of a businesswoman,’ Caroline continues. ‘The shop wasn’t exactly raking in money when she had it. I should know, I saw the books when I was in charge. I think bringing in fresh blood to St Felix could be just what the town needs, and you must admit the shop is starting to look rather shabby.’

Enough.
 

I push my chair back and stand up to face her, and I’m surprised to find that I tower over her tiny frame. Her forceful manner had given the illusion she was much bigger.

‘Maybe my grandmother’s shop wasn’t the newest, or the most sleek,’ I tell her, surprised to hear a clear, calm voice coming from between my bright-red cheeks. ‘But it had something else
you
may have failed to notice, Caroline, though many others did… it had
heart
.’

I feel my legs shaking as I stand there facing her. Public displays of emotion are definitely not my thing either. But something had ignited inside me when I’d heard Caroline dissing my grandmother and her shop, and I had to respond.

Caroline looks as surprised as I feel by my outburst. She glares at me, then glances around the room to see if anyone else is hearing this. As people sense an argument brewing, the pub is already beginning to quieten.

‘I’m surprised I didn’t recognise you to be Rose’s granddaughter before,’ she says, obviously deciding she needs to save face by taking this battle on. ‘The family likeness is definitely there.’ Then, as if she can’t quite stop herself from saying something to goad me, she adds, ‘She was a troublemaker too.’

‘Oooh,’ I hear Jake say, as he watches Caroline and me begin to battle it out. ‘Fifteen–thirty. Poppy to serve.’

‘My grandmother – a troublemaker?’ I question, desperately trying to remain calm. ‘I doubt that. She was a good, kind woman. She lived in this town nearly all her life, she loved it here, and she loved her shop. How long have you been in St Felix, Caroline? Long enough to make you an expert on the place, apparently.’

‘Thirty all,’ Jake whispers, loud enough for us to hear him.

Caroline raises a knowing eyebrow at me. ‘In all the time I’ve lived here I’ve never seen you visiting her shop, Poppy. What sort of granddaughter does that make you?’

Sharp intake of breath from Jake, and a murmur of, ‘Thirty–forty.’

Calm, Poppy, I tell myself. You must remain calm.

‘And you know everyone that passes through this town, do you?’ I ask, my face reddening still further as I feel my fists clench by my sides. ‘Oh, that’s right, I bet you’re the local busybody, nosing into everybody else’s business, so of course you’d know.’

Caroline is the one with the red face now as I hear a few sniggers around the pub.

‘Deuce!’ Jake calls, and we both glare at him.

Caroline opens her mouth to defend, but I gain the advantage.

‘I should like to thank the ladies of the St Felix Women’s Guild very much for helping to keep my grandmother’s shop up and running, it was most kind of you.’ I smile in the direction of the table some of the ladies are still sitting at, although most have gone home now as Richie has already called last orders. Then I score the winning point: ‘But
I’m
here now, Caroline. The Daisy Chain is now
my
concern, and no one else’s. I may not be the perfect granddaughter, or the perfect person to run a flower shop, but I’m prepared to give it a damn good try, and I’m going to do it in a way that would have made my grandmother proud!’