The Beachside Flower Stall

by Karen Clarke

  ‘Clearly, with those skills,’ Jasmine cut in. ‘Don’t they say most top business people have a psychopathic nature?’

  ‘Exactly!’ I clutched at my hair. ‘Yet she faked a pregnancy to win a man who doesn’t love her, because she knows he’s too decent not to marry her. I mean, who wants a man on those terms?’

  ‘One with control issues, Daddy issues, and Christ knows what other issues, and the marriage could just be about money anyway,’ said Jasmine. ‘What are you gonna do?’

  ‘I don’t know.’ My head was buzzing with the effort of absorbing it all. ‘I still can’t believe it,’ I said, but it wasn’t strictly true. I knew by now that Megan would do whatever it took to get whatever she wanted.

  ‘You’ve got to tell Tom.’

  ‘I shouldn’t have to!’ My voice was almost a wail. ‘Megan should.’

  ‘So, you should tell her.’

  ‘You’re right.’ I stood up, adrenaline flowing through me. ‘God, Jas, what a mess.’

  ‘I bet you can’t wait to come home, hen.’

  For a second, I couldn’t think where she meant. I looked at her, and noticed she was wearing a workman-like shirt with the sleeves rolled up, covered in red splotches.

  ‘Jasmine, what have you done to my kitchen?’ I peered behind her at the wall, eyes popping at the colour, which resembled freshly drawn blood.

  ‘You said I could choose.’ She ducked her head so I could see it more clearly. ‘I thought some yellow tiles would be a nice contrast.’

  It wouldn’t, it would be hideous, but I didn’t care. There were more important things than wall colours, and if things worked out I wouldn’t be living there much longer anyway.

  Wait. What?

  Just because I now had proof that Megan was lying about being pregnant, it didn’t mean I was going to end up living happily ever after in Shipley. I loved my Manchester life, and couldn’t wait to get back. Tom would want to come too, and set up a vet’s practice there; we’d buy a house together, or he could move in with me and Jasmine, though she was allergic to animals so that wouldn’t work because of Hovis…

  I reeled in my spiralling thoughts.

  First things first.

  I had to talk to Megan.

  ‘It looks… nice,’ I said to Jasmine, who’d positioned the phone so I could just see her eyebrows, which were dancing up and down. ‘Really cheerful, in fact.’

  ‘Carrie, seriously, if you go and see her, be careful.’ Jasmine’s face reappeared, looking concerned. ‘She might go feral and lash out,’ she added. ‘Make sure you meet somewhere public, and get a tetanus jab just in case.’

  ‘I don’t think she’s violent,’ I said, but I wasn’t so sure. At that point, I wouldn’t have put anything past Megan.

  After promising to update Jasmine later, I rang off and paced around the flat, while I tried to work out the best way to handle things, and when nothing clever sprang to mind, called Megan’s mobile.

  ‘Can you meet me in half an hour at Cooper’s Café?’ I said when she picked up. ‘It’s Carrie,’ I added when she didn’t speak, though I knew she knew it was me. ‘We need to talk.’

  ‘Oh, Carrie, if it’s about the other night, I’ve already said it’s fine.’ She sounded bored. ‘I’m rather busy today.’

  ‘It is about that.’ I didn’t want to play my cards too soon, and give her time to think of a convincing reason why the printout didn’t mean what I thought it meant. ‘I need to see you in person to apologise, it’s playing on my mind.’ Blood rushed to my cheeks at the lie, and I was glad we weren’t FaceTiming.

  ‘I’ve a lot to do,’ she said coolly, clearly loving that I was practically begging. ‘I’ve a final dress fitting, and the wedding photographer’s coming round this afternoon.’

  ‘Please, Megan, it’s important to me.’

  I knew she wouldn’t be able to resist playing the magnanimous friend, bestowing forgiveness on her silly old school pal, probably relieved that once it was over she’d never have to see me again. Though it wouldn’t surprise me if she wangled a way of proving she and Tom were married, by offering to send me a photo of the wedding, or a slice of cake.

  ‘Fine,’ she said at last, making it clear she was doing me a massive favour. ‘My fitting’s not until one, so I suppose I could pop over, maybe even visit Tom at work and persuade him to come home early.’ She lowered her voice seductively. ‘Not that he’ll need much persuading.’

  I mimed jabbing her eyes out down the phone, but managed to keep my voice calm. ‘I’ll see you in half an hour then.’

  * * *

  Cooper’s Café was busy when I arrived, and rather than hang about outside, and risk being spotted by Ruby, I slipped through the side door and ordered a coffee, then sat at a table by the window so I’d see Megan arrive.

  I had a good view of the flower stall, and as I blew steam away from my coffee, I watched a smiling Ruby engage a passer-by in conversation. The woman responded, going on her way with a bunch of dahlias and a spider-plant, and it struck me how right Ruby looked, in her purple trousers, surrounded by flowers, against a backdrop of sand and sea. Toby’s words about her being part of the landscape came back, and I could understand why the stall had endured, even if custom wasn’t always as brisk as it might be.

  Now she was back, she could throw herself into building up business to see her through the winter months; perhaps expand into doing deliveries, and even take on a driver.

  My phone trilled, and as if we’d tuned into the same frequency it was All Seasons Nursery. ‘I was just thinking about flowers,’ I said, stupidly.

  ‘Oh, were you now?’

  It was the woman I’d spoken to before, and she sounded thoroughly fed up.

  ‘Er, yes?’

  ‘Well, so was I,’ she said, in that same, hacked off way. ‘I’m afraid I’m going to have to charge a twenty per cent cancellation fee.’

  I started. ‘Cancellation fee?’

  ‘Are you ’avin’ a laugh?’

  ‘Sorry, what?’

  ‘You do know the booking’s been cancelled?’ Her voice iced over. ‘The bride rang to inform me’ – she put on a la-di-da voice – ‘that she’d decided to go with another florist; someone who understood her needs.’

  I groaned. So, that’s why Megan had called, wanting to know the name of Ruby’s supplier. Of all the underhand, sneaky…

  ‘She never told you?’

  ‘No, she didn’t.’ Anger burnt in my chest. Megan had ditched Ruby to get back at me, probably in favour of Jay Simmons. I wondered what story she’d spun Mr Hudson to explain the switch. ‘I’m so sorry,’ I said, gritting my teeth.

  ‘We’d already sourced them all, and have to cover the inconvenience, love, I’m sure you understand.’ She’d grudgingly warmed up. ‘I’m going to do a bill for your auntie, and thought I’d let you know.’

  ‘I’ll pay it,’ I said, and once again read out my credit card details to her. She’d know them off by heart at this rate. ‘And I really am very sorry.’

  ‘Me too,’ she said, wistfully. ‘Not every day we get an order like that.’

  I rang off, my fury with Megan tempered by guilt that this was somehow my fault. That I should never have come to Shipley in the first place.

  But if I hadn’t, Ruby might never have met her granddaughter…

  ‘There you are!’

  I jerked with shock, sloshing coffee on the table. ‘Megan!’ Where had she sprung from? ‘I didn’t see you come in,’ I said, hating that she always caught me unawares.

  ‘You were busy with your phone.’ She placed her bag on the table and folded herself into the chair opposite. I wondered if she’d overheard my conversation.

  Removing her floppy-brimmed hat and owl-like sunglasses, she glanced around with vague distaste, as though finding herself in a crack den. ‘It’s a shame to sit inside in this weather,’ she said, ‘but I’m staying out of the sun as I don’t want even a hint of sunburn for the photos.’
r />   ‘But surely vitamin D is good for the baby?’ I wanted to see her reaction. I was still reeling from the news that she’d cancelled the flowers, and all I wanted now was for her to come clean.

  ‘I’m sure it is,’ she said loftily, ‘but for the sake of a couple of days—’

  ‘Drop the act, Megan. I know you’re not pregnant.’

  Her expression grew so tight, her skin looked stretched. ‘Not this again.’

  ‘You’re not pregnant,’ I repeated, sliding the printed email message across the table. ‘But your stepmother is.’

  Her eyes dipped down, hiding a flash of panic. ‘Where did you get this?’ She snatched it up and put it in her bag, and I realised my mistake.

  ‘It fell out of your bag in the restaurant the other night.’

  ‘Doesn’t prove a thing,’ she said, quickly reviving, though her face had turned the colour of a hard-boiled egg. ‘Crystal is pregnant too, so what?’

  ‘That picture you showed us didn’t seem right.’ I thought back. ‘I’ve seen one before, when my sister was pregnant, and it was like a proper photograph.’

  ‘So, my gynaecologist emailed it to me,’ she snapped. ‘For god’s sake, Carrie, why are you being like this?’

  ‘Why are you?’ I shot back, and the woman at the table behind Megan lowered her Kindle to watch. ‘How could you do this to Tom?’ I said, bringing my voice down a couple of notches. ‘You know he doesn’t want to marry you, so why not let him go?’

  ‘What, so you can have him?’ Her eyes were like cold metal. ‘I haven’t worked my arse off to get where I am, for you to turn up and ruin it,’ she said. ‘Once we’re married, and Tom’s running the company, I’ll make sure there are babies aplenty to keep him there.’

  ‘And in the meantime?’ I matched her tone, relieved that at least she’d dropped the pretence. ‘When he realises there is no baby?’

  ‘Women have miscarriages, don’t they?’

  Her words were like freezing water in my face. ‘Megan!’

  ‘What?’ She fiddled with the straps on her bag, and I noticed a tremor in her hand. ‘By the time the honeymoon’s over I probably will be pregnant,’ she said. ‘It’s a case of getting Tom in one place long enough for it to happen.’

  ‘Why Tom?’ I said, shaking my head. ‘You could have anyone.’

  ‘Believe it or not I care about him.’ One fingernail drummed out a rhythm on the wood-topped table. ‘And Michael has been more of a father to me than mine ever was.’

  I stared at her for a moment, connections firing in my brain as I put it all together. I saw the fifteen-year-old Megan again, crying in the toilets because her father had left without her; sobbing again in my bedroom, because he’d had a baby – a girl – with his pretty, young wife.

  ‘You want to be part of a family, and can’t bear that Tom doesn’t love you,’ I said, almost feeling sorry for her.

  ‘Oh, it was alright for you. Little brainbox, with your wonderful family, and boys thinking you were quirky and cute.’ Her words were like needles.

  ‘You were jealous? Of me?’ I stared at her, dumbstruck.

  ‘You had it all, didn’t you?’ she said. ‘You’re the one who could have had your pick.’

  I remembered Ruby’s words, about loving parental support being everything, and felt myself melting back to my teenage self, wanting to make Megan feel better about herself.

  ‘Look, it’s not too late to do the right thing.’ I reached a hand across the table. ‘You’ll feel better if you do.’

  Her face worked briefly, and she averted her gaze as if to settle her thoughts. ‘Just leave me alone, Carrie.’

  ‘Sorry?’

  She shifted her eyes and gave me a mocking look. ‘Go back to wherever you came from, and leave me alone.’

  ‘Not until you’ve told Tom.’ I withdrew my hand. ‘If you don’t tell him, I will.’

  Slowly, she got to her feet, and rested her hands on the table, bringing her face close to mine. ‘I’m getting married the day after tomorrow,’ she said lightly. ‘And if you go to Tom with your little tale, I’ll tell him you’re lying because you’ve always been jealous of me. And he will believe me, Bagsy, I can promise you that.’ She straightened, and flattened her gauzy top across her belly. ‘He’s already felt the baby move.’ She placed a hand on her tiny curve and turned to an imaginary Tom. ‘Oh my god, did you feel it?’ she cried, her face alight with fake happiness. ‘That’s a baby in there! Our child! Can you believe it?’ She shot out a hand, grasping an invisible arm. ‘You’re going to be the most amazing daddy, I know it.’

  A couple at one of the tables looked on in astonishment. The girl turned to her red-faced boyfriend, and he lifted his palms in a gesture of innocence.

  ‘It’s not mine,’ he said, laughing nervously.

  The woman with the Kindle came over. ‘Congratulations, you look amazing,’ she said to Megan. ‘How far along are you?’

  ‘Oh, it’s early days yet,’ Megan replied, as innocent as a choirgirl. ‘I’ve a long way to go, but I feel great, not a hint of morning sickness.’ As she relaxed into the role of expectant mum, I remembered again what an accomplished actress she was. She was wasted at HCH.

  If only I’d taken a photo of the printout, or recorded our conversation on my phone, I might have had a leg to stand on, but I knew with sickening clarity that even if I managed to talk to Tom, without proof to back anything up she would twist it around, and make me the deluded liar.

  Megan had won, again.

  ‘Well, I’d better get going, lots to do,’ she was saying, when I tuned back in, as much to me as the woman, who had been giving her tips for keeping stretch marks at bay. ‘Good catching up with you.’

  My throat was tight with tears. ‘Did you ever like me, Megan?’

  ‘Oh, Carrie.’ For a split second she looked torn as she picked up her bag. ‘I don’t think I liked anyone much, after Daddy left home.’

  Then she gave me a dazzling smile, slipped her sunglasses back on, and sashayed out of the café, her hair as sleek as a crow’s wing in the sunshine.

  I brushed away a tear. It was time for me to go, too.

  Back to Manchester, where I would stay this time.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  As I stood up to leave, Kate texted.

  All hell broke loose when I told Dad, he threatened to ground me for a year and call the police, talk about an overreaction! Mum talked him down and he’s coming round…

  Coming round? My heart lurched. I hadn’t expected that. Ruby would be over the…

  to the idea of meeting Ruby! X

  Ah. Still, he was considering it, which was more progress than I’d imagined, and it was good to know Kate was OK.

  Can’t wait to see you both again, but Mum says not til Dad’s met Ruby – if he wants to x

  Sounds fair

  I replied.

  Tell her to call me if she wants to talk, and keep me posted. Hope to see you soon xx

  I felt a stab of guilt, knowing I’d be leaving soon, but maybe if things worked out, Kate could come to Manchester one day to visit.

  Manchester. Despite everything, the thought wasn’t as appealing as it had been just moments earlier. I was beginning to wonder if I was more rooted in Dorset than I’d realised – or was it because Tom lived in Shipley?

  It didn’t matter. I was going, regardless.

  I decided not to tell Ruby that Peter was considering a visit, in case her hopes flew up in spite of what she’d said the night before. Instead, I bought her some coffee and took it over, and told her Kate had been in touch and was fine.

  Her face relaxed into a beam. ‘I’m so glad,’ she said, squeezing my fingers. ‘I’d have hated her to get into trouble because of me.’

  I put the coffee on the workbench and waited while she wrapped a bunch of creamy roses for a customer.

  ‘Weren’t they Doris’s?’ I said when Ruby bustled back, stuffing a ten pound note in her money belt.


  ‘She came by with some first thing. They’ve been really popular, apparently.’ I nodded. ‘She’s going to supply me in future, for a small fee. Ooh, and I told her about Kate,’ she said, her face blooming with happiness. She seemed to have shed five years overnight. ‘She got that Agatha Raisin look on her face and said, “So glad we could be of service.”’

  I managed a smile.

  ‘She’s an interfering old whatsit,’ said Ruby, clasping me to her once more, as if all the feelings she’d suppressed for so long desperately needed an outlet. ‘But in a good way, don’t you think?’

  ‘I do,’ I said, gently disengaging. ‘Ruby, I’m afraid there’s bad news about the wedding flowers.’ I told her that Megan had cancelled the order, though not the real reason behind it.

  Ruby looked briefly affronted. ‘It’s a shame she didn’t call and tell me she’d decided to go with this other florist,’ she said. ‘I’d have been perfectly capable of meeting her needs, if we’d discussed what they were in person.’ But she didn’t sound too upset, and I guessed that in light of meeting Kate – and the fact that a week ago she wouldn’t have cared if the stall had gone up in flames – it wasn’t that important.

  ‘Ah well, there’ll be other weddings, though not like that one,’ she said, throwing a wave at Mr Flannery who was outside his shop, looking over. ‘He fancies me,’ she said behind her hand. ‘Hasn’t a cat in hell’s chance.’

  I pushed my hair off my face, feeling about a hundred. ‘Can you manage if I go back to the flat for a bit?’ The thought of interacting with people – even Ruby – was suddenly too much.

  ‘What is it?’ Her smile dimmed. ‘Oh, Carrie, I was forgetting how hard it must be for you, with Tom getting married tomorrow—’

  ‘I just feel a bit off-colour,’ I cut in.

  ‘Go.’ She flapped her hands. ‘Remember, I’ve been doing this for years.’

  ‘Usually with Jane, and you’ve not been well.’