by Jane Linfoot
Given David’s wearing his athletics shorts, you couldn’t blame him for running a mile when she snaps at him like that. He gives her a long suffering smile. ‘Aren’t you forgetting why we came, Barbs?’
My mum’s mouth is a perfect ‘O’, as her cheeks blanch. ‘Right. Of course.’ It’s almost a croak. ‘It’s the house. We’ve had an offer.’
‘Crap.’ My stomach implodes. I’ve been rushing around so much, somehow I’d almost forgotten. It takes a minute to get my voice to come out again. ‘And will you accept?’
My mum draws herself up to her full five foot four. ‘I expect we will.’
Crap again then. ‘Well that’s just great. I hope you’ll be very happy obliterating every trace of Dad, and moving on to your spanky new flat with your shiny new toy boy.’ It’s like a boil’s been lanced, and the poison’s gushing out. And now it’s started, there’s nothing I can do to stop it. ‘It’s your life, Mum. You’re old enough. Feel free to go ahead and fuck it up.’
As the ‘f’ word resounds off the garden walls, and the age barb hits home, my mum clasps her hands to her chest, and sinks against the delphinium stakes. ‘I can’t believe you’re being so selfish, Lily. Your father would be so ashamed of you. And your language.’
I’m growling inside. ‘Leave my dad out of this. And stop turning this back on to me, when you’re the most self-centred person in the world.’
As I’m getting louder, my mum’s turning more steely. ‘I don’t know how you can be so manipulative, Lily. It’s been all about you ever since the day I got engaged. We’ve tried to ignore how difficult and obstructive you’ve been, but this time you’ve gone too far.’
My voice rises to a roar, because I know how unfair that is. ‘That’s rich, coming from the queen of the guilt trip.’ I must have some restraint left, because so far I’ve left out the ‘Bridezilla’ word. Even though she totally has been.
Her cheeks are red and blotchy. ‘No one’s forcing you to be present next weekend, Lily. In fact, I’m officially uninviting you. With attitudes like yours I don’t want you there when I get married. You’ll only spoil that too.’
Kip’s eyes are wide with disbelief. ‘How about we all calm down and have a drink? I know Lily needs to start standing up for herself, but maybe now’s not the moment. Anyone for coffee? Or brandy maybe?’ Nice try, mate.
I drop my trug and throw down my gloves. ‘Not for me, thanks. I’ve got somewhere else to be.’ Like anywhere in the world would be preferable to here.
As I belt out of the garden and back to Gucci I’m kicking myself. I’d truly promised myself I wouldn’t make a squeak before the wedding. For once Kip’s completely right about the timing. And now we’ve just had world war three. There are some arguments you can’t ever come back from. I think this is one of them.
Chapter 43
Tuesday, 12th September
In the Style File at Brides by the Sea: Short change and the housing market
‘I’ve brought you some sweet peas.’ It’s David, and he’s dropped a bundle of newspaper on the counter. ‘We grew them at your mum’s.’
Given how much my mum hates dirt, I seriously doubt she had anything to do with them. As for what happened yesterday at the Manor, it seems like it’s so huge, we’re actually blanking it from our memories because we can’t cope with it.
‘Lovely.’ It’s a knee jerk reaction, with a completely fake matching smile to hide that my heart is squishing to nothing in my chest. Dad loved his sweet peas. We’re years down the line, but for the first time ever, it hits me he’s never going to grow another. And this is one of those moments that bursts from nowhere. Then pole-axes you. When my chin eventually stops wobbling, I lift up a crumpled page, and peer in at the pastel petals. As the scent wafts up my nostrils, I see I was right first time. Whoever grew these, lovely is the perfect word for them.
David’s leaning towards me, a pained frown on his face. ‘She said yours didn’t grow, so I was coming to say you can have some from us if you want. Although I think there are other flowers she likes better. But now it might not matter anyway.’
It has to be the longest sentence he’s ever managed. Probably because I usually cut him off way shorter.
‘Thanks. I didn’t know you gardened. Didn’t you live in a bedsit?’
His frown deepens. ‘Temporarily. When my wife died I rushed into moving out of our home, because it was too painful to stay where we’d lived. We had one of the big houses on the St Aidan cliff road, with a huge garden, and views across the bay. Too big for two, let alone one.’
‘I see … I mean, I’m sorry.’ I’m ashamed to admit I’ve never really looked beyond the jeans and my hasty assumptions. A grieving widower living on what’s locally known as ‘millionaire’s row’ was the last thing I imagined he’d be. So much for me writing him off as a gold digger.
He winces. ‘That’s why I’m worried about your mum. I’m sure that’s why she flipped out at the Manor yesterday. Selling the family home is a major step for both of you. I don’t need to move again. I’ve had my new start moving in with her. I think she should reconsider the move.’
I’m picking myself up off the floor here. ‘But what about the penthouse?’
David’s sniff is dismissive. ‘It’s glitzy, but it’s not really us. We’d be far better off staying at your mum’s.’ If what he says is true, Rock Quay would probably be small change to him.
‘She’s already got an offer though.’ It sticks in my throat as I say it.
His frown deepens. ‘You know she’s never worn the engagement ring we chose.’
Weren’t we talking about house sales? ‘She hasn’t?’ I’ve never seen a ring at all.
He lets out a long sigh. ‘And after her blow out with you, now we’ve had our first argument too.’ Somehow he’s skipping bits.
I’m not sure I want to hear this. Although part of me still thinks I should be whooping to think my mum’s finally coming to her senses. Even if we aren’t speaking. ‘You had a fight because she won’t wear the ring?’
His stare is bemused. ‘Not exactly. The thing is, she’s always criticising you. And she shouldn’t have spoken to you as she did yesterday. But when I suggested she needed to back off and break the habit, she went ballistic.’
I’m chomping on my lip because I can’t believe what I’m hearing. ‘You told her that?’
His expression is panicked. ‘Her criticism comes from a good place. She does it because she loves you. But for now I’m on my way back to my bedsit.’ He nods at the flowers. ‘I picked those before it happened.’
‘Shit.’ I’m opening and closing my mouth, rearranging my sweet pea package, because I can’t think what else to add. People talk about surprises coming out of left field, but this is so shocking, it could have come from outer space.
He hitches up his jeans and lets out another defeated sigh. ‘I’m just checking in to say your mum’s a wonderful woman. She lit up my life when I was in a very dark place. I don’t want to lose her, but I’d hate to push her into something she’s not ready for. Like a house move. Or marriage. So I’ve been in touch with Kip to put things on hold. And I’m giving her some space. Time to think it over.’ As he squeezes my upper arm for a second, his hand is trembling. ‘Thanks for listening, Lily. I’ll leave it with you.’
A second later he’s left, and he’s running up the stairs.
Five days to go, and reading between the lines my mum’s wedding just hit the buffers. Can I help to sort my mum out in time? That’s not going to be easy when we’re not even talking.
Chapter 44
Wednesday, 13th September
In the garden at Rose Hill Manor: Lavender flowers and empty seats
‘Kip, what are you doing here? Whatever happened to swing ball?’
I know it’s his walled garden. It’s just I’ve never actually come and found him in it before.
He puts down the spade he’s holding. ‘Straight back at you. It’s only five. Why ar
en’t you at the shop?’
Good point well made. But since David dropped by with his sweet peas and his wedding bombshell yesterday, my mind hasn’t exactly been on the job. There’s nothing like a couple of hours pottering among the flowers to calm you down. So, pushed by Poppy, I made a fast getaway, and here I am at the Manor. As I hear the bees buzzing on the daisies, the invisible tourniquet pulled tight around my head loosens. I wander across to my corner of the garden, run my hand across the feathery leaves of a border of dill, and nip away a couple of seed heads in a vibrant patch of orange and yellow marigolds.
‘Poppy sent me home early with a box of goodies.’ She saw me tugging my hair and pacing, and came to the rescue. As I hold up my swag I can’t help laughing as his expression brightens.
‘Cupcakes?’ Tongue hanging out doesn’t begin to cover it. Kip jumps down from the raised border by the wall where he’s standing, and saunters across to the love seat. Installed especially for picturesque bride and groom photo opportunities.
I nod. ‘Glad to see your confectionery antennae are in perfect working order.’ I’m relieved when he pushes a trailing nasturtium out of the way, and sits on the wall opposite, leaving the pretty cream painted bench under the climbing rose free for me.
I settle myself in, take a second to admire how the pink cosmos go perfectly with the smoky purple cat mint flowers either side of me, and hand him the box. ‘Raspberry and vanilla, or lemon. They’re leftovers.’
‘I can live with that. Still with the “I do” stickers on too.’ He smiles and takes one of each. ‘I was planting some lavender, I hope that’s okay?’
Planting? I hide that I’m surprised. ‘You don’t have to ask me for permission. It is your garden, after all.’ As I take a bite of sponge, and the raspberry icing melts into my mouth, the day immediately gets better.
He brushes the crumbs off his top lip. ‘I’d rather think of it as our garden. Would you like some water with these?’
I watch him swing off to the shed, and emerge with two glasses. Then as he turns on the outside tap, goes straight to the end of the hose a couple of borders away, and fills them, I’m puzzled by his ease.
He hands me my glass. ‘Something wrong?’
I pull down the corner of my mouth. ‘Only how at home you look. Considering how rarely you’re in here.’
He shrugs that off. ‘My mum loved lavender. As boys, when we were home from school, she bought us to the Manor a lot more often than our London house. And this walled garden was her favourite place of all. While we ran wild, she spent her time here. When Bart and Quinn insisted I should come back to Rose Hill, I have to admit it was the memories of this garden that drew me back, not the thought of weddings.’ He pulls a wry face. ‘But I think you guessed that.’
I sigh. ‘Immie texted earlier, to say my mum’s back in her pyjamas again.’ Kip’s up to speed with my mum’s wedding cancellation.
He blows out his cheeks. ‘I know your mum isn’t easy. But deep down she’s very proud of you. You should have heard her singing your praises at Nicole’s wedding. The trouble is, she never tells you.’
I roll my eyes. ‘I was always closer to my dad. My mum and I are so unalike, we always found it hard to get on.’
Kip’s frown is as perplexed as I feel. ‘My dad was shit, but I still hang onto him. It’s thanks to him I landed up here, but that one’s for another time.’ He puts his fingers together. ‘Family’s about much more than how well you get on. When I messed up, mine forgave me. Even though you disapproved, look how hard you’ve fought for your mum’s wedding. The way you’ve kicked my ass into gear, so she’d have the best day possible. You may have your differences. But when it comes to the important stuff, you’ve got each other’s backs.’
I bite my lip, because he does have a point. ‘Maybe.’ I’m just not sure what to do about it.
He rolls down the case on his second cupcake. ‘It was all down to your mum that we caught those pigs before they turned Nicole’s wedding upside down. We all owe her for that, if nothing else.’ He takes a bite and pauses to chew. ‘What I’m saying is, you’ve only got one mum, so it would be really good if you could find a way to make up with her. Especially as she needs you. I suspect you’re the only one who can help her with her current problem.’ I think what he’s really saying is, I’m damned lucky to have my mum, when he hasn’t got his anymore. And as with so many other things, he’s right, of course.
‘She did save us all with the pigs.’ I’m rocking backwards and forwards on the slatted seat.
His eyes are grave as he rubs his thumb on his chin. ‘Whatever else is going on, I think you’re the main reason she’s hesitating over the wedding, Water Lily. Maybe you need to find a way to let her move on. If you set her free, you might set yourself free too. And you can’t do that without talking to her.’
I’m thinking hard. Staring into the tangled mass of flowers in the border letting the words sink in. Suddenly, along the path, something extra orange catches my eye.
As I let out a wail, my agonising over my mum is suddenly eclipsed. ‘Kip, please tell me that isn’t a gnome over there?’
Kip’s face crumples. ‘He’s only here temporarily, taking refuge from the builders. Since they invaded the house, I’ve been hanging out here even more, too.’
‘Even more? More than what?’ And suddenly, I’m thinking. Anyone who can go straight to the hose end has to have left it there. As the proverbial penny finally drops to wherever it goes to, I’m kicking myself for being so blind all these months. ‘It’s damn well been you all along, hasn’t it? The digging, the watering. This whole damned beautiful garden grew because you’ve been here caring for it.’ All this time I thought it was Fred. How crap am I?
His grin is sheepish. ‘I can’t think why you’d say that.’
‘Digging holes for lavender plants? Of course it’s been you.’
Kip dodges the empty cupcake box as it flies across the path. ‘It’s down to both of us. It wouldn’t have happened without you, Lily. Just like I’d never have learned what to do at weddings if you hadn’t pushed me as hard as you did. I was so pleased when I found you wanted to grow things here, I couldn’t resist helping. But I didn’t want to get in your way and I thought if you knew it was me you’d ask me to stop.’
I’m running my fingers through my hair. ‘I feel like such an idiot. Immie was always trying to tell me.’ As for Fred taking full credit, that fits too. ‘All these months, and three days from the end of my flower growing challenge, I find out.’
He’s suddenly serious. ‘We can carry on, can’t we? For next year, we’ll get the flowers up on a website. We can do it together properly, as a joint venture.’
‘But I’m supposed to be leaving town.’ In three days’ time, I’ll finally be free to go.
His voice rises. ‘But you have to stay. Look at your success with the shop, and the styling. If you make a fresh start with your mum, why move away?’
As I look around the garden, I feel a strange pull. ‘It’s an odd thing. For the first time in my life I’m good at things. It’s as if these last few months I’ve actually reconnected with who I really am. Bringing the garden to life here has put me back in touch with the little girl I used to be, when I gardened with my dad all those years ago. As I grew up I was desperate to work with flowers because flowers make me happy. Somewhere along the line in Bath I’d lost sight of that. It’s as if recalling that has made me remember who I am, and what I should be doing. And I’m doing things I love again. These flowers. The styling. People are turning to me for help. But the most amazing thing is, I don’t feel defined by my failed marriage any more. It’s like I’ve become a whole new person. I’m so different from the broken one who arrived here on Valentine’s Day.’ When I came I was all on my own, and determined to be strong and independent and run away to continue licking my wounds. But surrounded by friends, I’ve found a whole different strength.
Kip’s smile is the kind that makes your stoma
ch squelch. ‘I’ve got a hell of a lot to thank you for here, and I don’t just mean in the garden. You haul me out of trouble every time. You’re the one with all the good ideas. No-one’s ever been there for me like that before, Water Lily. Sorry to sound selfish, but I really don’t want you to go.’
‘Great.’ I’m trying to work out how to stop the fluttering in my chest when I look at him. It’s like rose petal confetti in the wind. ‘It’s important for you too, Kip. You need to find out what you like doing. Whatever those dreams of yours are, life’s too short not to chase them. You owe it to yourself to do something you enjoy. I know you want to prove yourself with the wedding business, but you shouldn’t only do things to please your family.’
Kip gives a wry smile. ‘You’re sounding very profound suddenly.’
If my cheeks are hot, it’s because I’ve probably overstepped the mark here. Telling Kip how to run his life, when it’s none of my business. If I’m out of line, it’s only because I think he deserves to be happy.
I go back to what he was saying. ‘You do know you’ll come to the end of my wedding knowledge very soon. If you carry on your current exponential learning curve, I predict that’ll happen sometime around three forty five tomorrow afternoon.’ What’s more, for the first time, I know I can trust him too. And omigod, and what the hell? But who’d have thought I’d ever get to say that about a Penryn?
He pushes himself up to standing, and gives me a nudge on the arm. ‘Now go and see your mum and make things right. Truly, I haven’t worked my ass off to get the house dried out only to have her cancel on us.’
As my eyes lock on the square of tanned thigh behind the rip in his jeans, I know he’s right. It’s just hard. ‘What am I going to say?’