Wildflowers (15 page)

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Authors: Debbie Howells/Susie Martyn

BOOK: Wildflowers
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Honey says nothing, just nearly strangles me in a hug.

2
1

 

 

Guiltily, and somewhat reluctantly, I get round to calling Julia.  After all, she is my mother.

‘How’s Giles?’ I ask her, guessing from her voice he isn’t good.


Oh Frankie
… It’s awful.  He’s so brave, but he’s so ill… I can’t believe how fast this is happening.  I don’t know what I’m going to do…’  Her voice breaks.

‘You just do what you’re doing,’ I tell her.  ‘Be with him. 
As much as you can.’  Thinking she better not dare do one of her runners.  Then against my better judgement I add, ‘why don’t I come up and meet you for lunch?’

 

‘Them flowers worked yet, duck?’

‘What – the posy you mean, Mrs Orange?  Not yet, I’m afraid.’

‘Sometimes it takes time, my lovely.  Your friend though, has the makings doesn’t she?’  She nods wisely, her beady little eyes squinting at me.

‘What do you mean?’

‘Well.  I came in the other day when you were out and she was fiddling with some vases - so I helped her.  Listened real good, she did.  Did quite a good job for a posh girl.’

First Charlie, then Mrs Orange
- and now Honey’s going back to school.  Something very weird’s going on.  It’s one aspect of Honey’s makeover I hadn’t anticipated but it definitely suits her.  She’s looking happier again, but there’s still no sign of Johnny rushing back to make it up, which worries me.  I might yet need to do something devious but I’ll need some help.  With Honey out of the way, I make some calls.

‘Charlie? Listen – you free this weekend?  Only I have a plan…’

I leave a message with Nina’s receptionist.  ‘It’s important – can you ask her to keep Sunday free?’

Next up is Johnny, which I’m slightly nervous about.  Employing the old tactic of phoning rather than texting because it’ll be harder for him to say no, I cross my fingers.

‘Hi Johnny, it’s me, Frankie…’  I use my breeziest, happiest voice.

‘Hi Frankie!
  How are you?’  He sounds pleased to hear from me and really good, not depressed and grief-stricken like I was expecting.

Yet again I’m staggered that
he and Josh are actually brothers.  ‘Really good, thanks.  Um, I wanted to ask you a favour.’

‘Ask away.’

‘A very good friend of mine has a little boy who isn’t well.  Only he loves boats and I was wondering if by any chance Matty might take us out on his?  I know it’s a huge favour to ask – but what about Sunday?  I’ll bring a huge, super-duper picnic for everyone and you’ll love Lulubelle and Cosmo – that’s my friend and her son – so – what do you think?’

‘Is it a good idea, Frankie? 
If this little boy isn’t well?  Wouldn’t it make more sense to do it when he’s better?’

I hesitate.  ‘
The trouble is… he’s not that sort of ill, Johnny.  He’s leukaemia sort of ill and he might not get better – which is why I’m asking.’

‘Oh.’  He sounds shocked.  ‘
Yes.  Of course - I’ll phone Matty right now and see how he’s fixed.  Forecast is good for Sunday, isn’t it?  Might work out rather well…’

‘Thank you Johnny,’ I say gratefully.  ‘That’s really brilliant
of you.’

After the call ends, I’m baffled.  He hasn’t mentioned Honey once, nor does he sound as though he’s missing her. 
That’s not good.  I’m not sure what to do here, unless somehow we can show him what he’s missing.

He calls back minutes later and it’s fixed, so all I have to do now is tell Lulubelle and Cosmo – and
that’s something I’d rather do in person.

After work, I walk up the lane to her cottage and when I get there, I see
a bunch of balloons tied to the front door.  I knock, hoping I’m not interrupting anything.  Lulubelle’s mother opens it, her face pink with excitement.


Oh Frankie
!  Just the person!  We’ve had some wonderful news! Oh, I’ll let Lulubelle tell you…  Come in, come in – she’s in the garden.’

She hustles me through to where
Lulubelle is, across the garden with a couple of friends I recognise from the hospice.  They’re drinking champagne and I wonder just what it is they’re celebrating.  When she sees me, she comes rushing over.


Frankie!  I’m so glad you’re here!’

‘What’s happening?’ I ask her, noting something in her eyes I’ve never seen before.
 


It’s official, Frankie’ she says tremulously.  ‘We heard today!  It’s Cosmo!  He’s in remission!’

‘Yaayy….’ I shriek and fling my arms round her,
as this incredible feeling washes over me.  This is the best, most amazing news ever and to be here to celebrate is just awesome.  We’re still hugging excitedly when Cosmo comes up and tugs at me.

‘Let’s play football!’ he shouts
, pulling me towards the garden.  ‘Come on!’

I beam at him
, a huge smile that cracks my face in half.  ‘Let’s!  Come on…this time I’m going to beat you…’ and I run after him, my heart bursting with a happiness like I’ve never felt before.

 

It’s wonderful.  No-one deserves it more than these two.  Cosmo kicks his football at me relentlessly until Lulubelle calls half time and brings me a glass of champagne.

‘I almost forgot to tell you,’ I say to her
, gratefully sipping it.  ‘You know my idea about the boat?  Well, it’s on for Sunday – if that’s ok with you?’

She grins back at me. 
‘Definitely!  Thanks so much!  It’s perfect timing, isn’t it!  It’ll be a celebration!  My baby’s in remission and we’ve got the whole summer ahead of us – I can’t think of anything better!  Shall I tell him or would you like to?’

‘Can I?’ I say, pleased. 
‘Hey, Beckham!’ I shout at him.  ‘Come here a minute.  We’ve got a surprise for you…’

He runs over towards us, skidding to a stop on his knees
like any other small boy and glancing up at us cheekily. 

‘Well, a friend of a friend of mine has a boat, you see.  And he’s looking for a ships mate.  And I told him I might just know someone… so he says he’ll try you out on Sunday - if you’re not too busy, of course…’

His eyes light up and his face beams at mine, then Lulubelle’s.  ‘Mama?  Can we go?  Please?’

‘Of course we can!’  She sweeps him up in a hug
he doesn’t want and he beats his fists on her back until she puts him down again, then tears off across the garden.

A
fter a truly magical evening, I walk home floating on air, realising what I saw in Lulubelle’s eyes.  It was happiness, plain and simple.  I don’t think I’d ever seen it there before. 

I can’t wait for Sunday now.  I
have to tell Honey.  When I get home, she’s sitting with her feet up, engrossed in CSI getting her law fix.

‘I’ve just seen Lulubelle,’ I say
excitedly.  ‘She’s had the best news.  They found out today that Cosmo’s in remission.’

But she doesn’t move, which
goes to show, you can take the girl out of the law but you can’t take the law out of the girl.


Honey
…’

‘That’s good,’ she says absently, staring at the screen.  I
pick up the remote and turn it off.

‘What did you d
o that for?’ She turns and glares at me.

‘Did you
even hear what I just told you?  About Cosmo?  Being in remission?’

This time it has the desired effect
and she completely forgets what she was watching.  ‘Oh Frankie, that’s great news!  She must be over the moon!’

‘She is.  Honestly, Honey – I don’t know how she copes with all the worry.  She’s amazing… Anyway, I need to tell you something and I don’t know if you’re going to be very happy with me
.’

I tell her about calling Johnny and the boat and Sunday and she goes quiet.

‘It’s a
really
good idea,’ she says.  ‘For Cosmo. Did he say anything about me, Frankie?’

‘We didn’t talk for long enough,’ I tell her
, trying to avoid telling her.  ‘You know Johnny. He doesn’t really do long phone calls.  And I was in a hurry too.  It was an awfully short call, you know.’

She nods slowly.  ‘He’s not going to come rushing over, is he?’

I can’t lie.  It doesn’t look as though he is.

‘It doesn’t mean anything, Honey.  It’s only been a few days – but I did think of a plan.  Charlie and Nina are coming
along on Sunday – why don’t you come too?  Just to remind him what he’s missing?’

She shakes her head.  ‘I don’t know.  It might just make everything awkward and I don’t want to spoil Cosmo’s day
.’

‘But it’s an opportunity,’ I
persist.  ‘You can wear your new clothes and look really sexy and surprise him.’


I’d love to – but it might be better if I leave it this time – just so Lulubelle and Cosmo can have a happy day without anything getting in the way.’

Wow.  This is most charitable of her
, when I know how much she wants Johnny back.  Which reminds me of another charitable matter.

‘Maybe you’re right,’ I say gently.  ‘But believe
me, I’ll be stirring him up on your behalf.’

‘Thanks.’  But it’s a tight-lipped smile she gives me.

‘Changing the subject – I seem to remember, it’s not just me running this half marathon.  Don’t you think it’s time you started training?’

22

 

 

Sunday
comes and we head for the wilds of the Kent countryside, leaving Honey alone at home.  She’s promised not to mope – she has too much to do anyway, what with marathon training and swotting for her floristry course.  Lulubelle picks me and Charlie up.  Nina and Will are meeting us there and though it’s early, the clear sky and light winds promise another fine day, just as Johnny had predicted.

Cosmo’s
bursting with excitement and chatters all the way there, mostly to Charlie, who’s sitting in the back next to him.

‘He’s been awake since five,’ Lulubelle tells me.  ‘You’ve no idea how much this means to him.’

‘We’re just as excited,’ I tell her.  ‘The only slight worry is Honey.’

I fill her in about how she and Johnny were having these terrible rows and hadn’t spoken for ages.

‘So you still think there’s a chance they’ll get back together?’

‘I know so,’ I say.  ‘
They’re made for each other.  It’s just they’re both stubborn and someone has to make the first move.  Look – I think we’re here…’

We have a fabulous day on
Matty’s boat, with Cosmo leaping around in his little life jacket as we chug peacefully up the river amidst the greenest lushest fields.  Not for nothing is Kent known as the garden of England.  And there’s something about being on the water that’s calming and kind of spiritual almost, if you can blot out the racket my friends are making.  Up on the bow doing my best Kate Winslet impression, I’m joined by Johnny, who under the surface, isn’t as chipper as I thought.

‘I take it she’s staying with you?’  He can’t even bring himself to say her name.
 

‘I take it you’re talking about Honey?’ 

He nods.

‘She is.  She’s helping me in the shop too.  To tell you the truth, I think she’s really enjoying it.  It does get a bit mad in there, but it’s quite the antithesis of
her law firm.  And she’s making herself seriously useful.  But what about you? How are you bearing up?’

He shrugs. 
‘Not great, if I’m honest.  Truth is, Frankie, I’m not sure what to do.  Of course I want her back, but I want things to be different.’

‘That’s a little bit bonkers
, Johnny,’ I say kindly.  ‘I mean, she’s the same Honey you married.  Smart, clever, gorgeous…’

‘…
and bloody bossy,’ he adds.

‘That too, but she’s working on it.  She realises the error of her ways, my friend.  Don’t give up just yet. 
faber est quisque fortunae suae. 
It means man is architect of his own fortune,’ I add, seeing his baffled face.  ‘Woman, too.  You might be surprised at how she’s changed.  Why don’t you ask her out, Johnny?  On a date?  See how it goes?’

It’s my inner hairdresser again, but j
ust maybe I’ve hit on a good idea.  Men really aren’t too good at the subtleties of relationships, I’m realising.  Should I mention it to Honey? 

Out of the corner of my eye,
I notice that Charlie’s doing a lot of flirting – with Johnny’s friend Matty, of all people.  He’s a nice guy – a very boat sort of person, I always think, with crinkly eyes and deck shoes and tanned arms.  He has a protective arm round Cosmo as he lets him steer the boat and not for the first time I notice there’s something about this child that brings out people’s generosity.  In fact, it’s a great atmosphere today.  Cosmo is loving every second.  My picnic goes down a treat and by the end of the day, I think we’re all of us sorry it’s over.

Out of the corner of my eye I see
Matty give Lulubelle his card.

‘You devil, you!’ I tease him
quietly, as he helps me off the boat.  ‘You flirt with Charlie all day, then I see you sneaking your card to Lulubelle as we leave…’

‘It’s not like that,’ he protests, then blushes as I plant a smacker on his cheek. 

You’re a complete darling,’ I tell him, ‘for doing this.  Thank you so much.  It’s been fabulous.’

So there we are, back on dry land, with Charlie steering a reluctant Cosmo back towards the car park.

‘Got a hot date then?’ I tease Lulubelle as I climb into her car, watching as her cheeks colour just faintly.

‘He
just asked if we’d like to go out again sometime,’ she said.  ‘Isn’t that lovely of him?’

‘Very lovely.
..’ I say agreeably, raising my eyebrows.  ‘Very lovely indeed.’

Even
Honey’s had a good day by the sounds of it.  She went for her first run and spent several hours studying her floristry books.  And she’s itching to ask about Johnny.

‘Did he ask about me, Frankie?’

‘He did, actually.  And he looks terrible.  His hair needs cutting and he has shadows under his eyes and it didn’t look as though any of his clothes had seen an iron.’

Her lip wobbles
as I mention the iron.  She’s a stickler for a neatly pressed shirt.  It’s obvious they still love each other.

‘Honey… one of you has to make the first move.  Why not call him?  What have you got to lose?’

‘I’m frightened he’ll push me away… after everything I said.’

‘So apologise…’  Talk about stating the obvious.  ‘Tell him how sorry you are.’

‘Perhaps…’

‘You can’t give up,’ I tell her firmly.  ‘
velle est posse
- remember?
 
Where there’s a will there’s a way.’

Or
maybe, secretly, she’s rather liking her new life.  A little too much, I’m starting to suspect.

 

It’s the start of another week, with another wedding – and a funeral.  From time to time we do them, when clients realise that they don’t have to buy the funeral company’s offerings which I have to say round here, are usually ghastly.  And there’s something about sitting down with a client and finding out the story of someone’s life.

This week’s is for an elderly gentleman who liked the countryside.  He was a gamekeeper, apparently
, who lived round here all his life – so we’ve made this rustic-looking arrangement with beech and willow, with cow parsley and corn flowers and dog roses and daisies, and ivy to drape softly over the coffin.  Skye found some pheasant feathers so we poked those in too and as a result, it looks like a little piece of the countryside he loved.

Honey’s taking her
floristry training very seriously and keeps asking me really annoying questions, so I decide she needs a challenge, preferably one that will get her out of my hair.

‘Honey… you know that idea you had, about setting up meetings with wedding venues
? If you still want to, I think it’s a great idea.  The only thing is, if you bugger off back to your law firm, how am I going to cope with the extra work?’

‘You could employ someone…’ she says casually.  ‘Part time perhaps
– that way, you wouldn’t have to pay them too much.  Who knows, you might even find someone who’ll just slot in now and then, when you need them…’

Oh. 
I see where this is going. I know she’s trying, but Honey’s still about as subtle as a brick.  I play along.

‘So, er…
do you think I might find someone who’d do that?  Only most people I know want set hours and proper pay and conditions… You’ve seen the books. I can’t really offer that, not at the moment.’

She nods silently.  ‘But
, let’s just say, if you could find someone who didn’t mind…’

I can’t keep quiet any longer.  ‘Okay - you’ve got the job,’ I tell her delightedly.  ‘But…’  Suddenly I remember.  ‘What about the law firm? 
Are you sure they don’t need you?’


I was going to tell you.  Only I’ve written them a letter.  I haven’t posted it yet but the more I think about it, the more it seems the only thing to do.’

Gosh.  This is quite a departure, Honey thinking before she acts
, but even so, leaving her job is huge.

‘You’re
seriously thinking about resigning, aren’t you?’  Oh my days, I can’t believe what I’m hearing.

‘That’s what I’m suggesting…I can’t go back to full time, Frankie.  It was killing me.  It might still have killed my marriage – by the way, I didn’t tell you.  Johnny called me
.’

I leap up excitedly.  ‘What did he want?’

‘He was brief.  Just said could we go for dinner.  So we are.  On Friday – if that’s ok with you?’

‘Of course it is!  You
have
to go!  And if you end up going home together, Skye and I will manage everything on Saturday.  There’s only one wedding this week.  Hey!  This could be it!’

She tries not to look too hopeful.  ‘
I don’t know about that, but it’s a start…’

 

On Wednesday, Honey delivers the funeral flowers because I have a meeting – with a difference – because this wedding is a Hindu one.

I’ve been busily reading up on them because unlike traditional weddings, the flowers are symbolic and actually used as part of the ceremony, so if I’m not going to look a complete numpty, I need to know what I’m talking about.  Trying to remember the difference between sanskars and mantras
, with red, white and gold flower ideas coming out of my ears, I’m feeling confident – until the olive-skinned bride, Karima and her mother arrive, followed by her father, two sisters, an aunt, niece and her brother.  Biggest wedding consultation ever.

By the time I’ve found seats for everyone, Honey’s returned
and goes to skulk quietly in the back.

‘Excuse me just one moment,’ I say to
Karima.  Then scuttle off to find her. 

‘You want to be a prope
r florist?’ I hiss at her.  ‘This is your chance to come and be one.’  Then I drag her out there and introduce her.

‘This is my partner, Honey,’ I tell them.  ‘
She’s awfully good at organising.  Now - where shall we start?’

The trouble with so many people is that they all want to speak at the same time
, mostly in Indian.  Karima is charming and stunningly beautiful, with sleek brown hair and olive skin.  She also speaks perfect English, which is just as well because her mother and aunt need everything translated.  It’s an unbelievable three hours before I have enough details to put a quote together.  At the end, I run through one or two details.


Just to double check, I’ve got the date as 15
th
July next year,’ I tell them.

‘Oh
no,’ Karima looks alarmed.  ‘It’s actually this year… is that a problem?’

‘Of course it’s not,’ says Honey and I elbow her hard in the side.

‘But that’s only three weeks away… I think we had better check the diary, don’t you?’ I say sweetly, trying to hide my panic as I turn to Honey.  ‘Would you mind?’

Fortunately
we can do it, but it’s very last minute for a wedding on this scale.

‘We
will need a deposit,’ says Honey firmly at which point the father starts looking shifty.  ‘And payment in full two weeks before.’

‘That’s fine,’ says
Karima.  ‘Can you email me the details?  And thank you so much, Frankie.  I’m sorry we’ve taken so much of your time…’

As they troop back out to their cars, Honey watches them, a frown on her face.

‘He isn’t going to pay,’ she says, as soon as they’re out of earshot.

‘Don’t be silly, of course they will.’  She’s a terrible judge of character.  ‘Aren’t you being slightly racist?’

‘Excuse me, it’s nothing to do with being racist. It was the look in his eyes – didn’t you see it?  I had a client once who looked shifty like that.  An American.  He bounced several cheques on me and in the end, said his way of doing business was to settle up at the end.  I told him my way of business was to pay as he went along or he could find himself another lawyer.’

But
I think she’s lost the plot a little, because I fire the quote off and the deposit pings straight into my bank account.

‘See?’ I tell her
, in my best told-you-so voice.

‘There’ll be something, Frankie – mark my words.
  You just wait.’

But the day passes uneventfully after that and l
ater on, Lulubelle comes in.

‘Hi!  I came to tell you – there’s
an open day at the hospice coming up and I wondered if you’d help… only we’re desperate for more hands, even if it’s selling teas for an hour…’

‘Of course… when is it?’

‘A week on Sunday… and I know it’s usually your day off…’

‘Perfect!’ I say cheerily.  ‘I’d love to!  Count me in!’

‘Thank you,’ she says, just as Skye wanders over.

‘I can help too, if you like…Oy, Honey?’ she calls across the shop.  ‘Next Sunday – we’re helping Lulubelle – ok?’

‘Oh – yes – ok.’  Honey looks uncertainly at us all.  ‘I’m not sure I’ll be much use though…’

‘Could you help with the teas?’ says Lulubelle. 
‘Just for a bit?’

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