Searching for Steven (Whitsborough Bay Trilogy Book 1)

by Jessica Redland

  ‘Don’t worry about the money side of things.’ Auntie Kay gave me a reassuring smile. ‘Do you really think I’d rip the fittings out and not leave you with any money to replace them?’

  ‘Auntie Kay, no! You can’t give me any money. You’ve already given me the shop, which is way too generous as it is.’

  She laughed. ‘I thought you might say that. How would you feel if we called it a loan?’

  I was about to object but I realised that, without the money, I wouldn’t have a business to run. ‘Are you sure? Don’t you need it for your travels?’

  ‘Sweetheart, I’ve not exactly had an extravagant lifestyle so I’ve got absolutely no money worries. I own the building outright and I have a nice income stream from the tenants upstairs. Will you accept the loan?’

  I smiled and gave her a hug. ‘Yes please. As long as you don’t start being evasive when I try to pay it back. Promise?’

  ‘I promise, but I don’t want you to pay anything back until you’ve been open at least six months and found your feet.’

  ‘Okay.’ I looked around the empty shop again. ‘Where do I start?’

  Auntie Kay laughed. ‘With a vision, of course. What do you want to sell?’

  I frowned. ‘It’s a florist shop so I’m thinking flowers.’

  ‘Just flowers?’

  ‘Maybe a few plants?’

  ‘Flowers and plants? Come on, Sarah, where’s your creativity? If I know you, you’ll have given this loads of thought. I bet you even bought a new notepad. Where is it?’

  I laughed as I unzipped my bag and pulled out a gorgeous new A5 notepad with a silk beaded cover and soft pastel pages. ‘Guilty.’ I’d been fantasising all week about all the changes I’d love to make. I’d rushed out to buy a pad at lunchtime the day I resigned and had spent the next few evenings filling it when I should have been packing.

  ‘I knew it. Let’s have a look.’ She flicked through page after page of scribbled ideas, drawings, paint swatches and photos printed off the Internet. ‘You want to sell gifts?’

  ‘I was thinking maybe a bit of a one-stop shop for all occasions. Buying flowers for a new mum? Why not get a card and a teddy here too?’ I tailed off. ‘It’s too much isn’t it? Jason was right. I should just stick with flowers, shouldn’t I?’

  ‘What’s he got to do with it?’

  ‘He caught me doing my cutting and sticking and said I was getting carried away as people come to a florist shop for flowers. He also said that you might be offended if I wanted to make changes as it would be like saying I didn’t like how you ran things.’

  Auntie Kay snorted. ‘How very supportive of him. Sarah, I want you to put everything he said out of your head. It’s rubbish for a start and we both know that his opinion has no relevance in your life anymore, don’t we?’ She handed me the pad. ‘What you’ve done in here is exactly what I expected of you. It’s fresh. It’s different. And if one person can bring it to life and make a success of it, it’s you. I can’t wait to see how it looks.’

  ‘You’re not offended?’

  ‘Of course I’m not offended. My business is finished, over, ended.’ She drew a cross in the air with her hand. ‘This is now a new business with a new owner. You’ve got to imagine this was something else before… like a hairdresser. You’ve had to rip out all the sinks and mirrors and you’re about to turn it into something completely different. The only thing I’m leaving you with is my till because it’s new, and of course my supplier details because you’ll need those plus any bookings from January onwards. The rest is up to you.’

  ‘What happened to your bookings for the next two months?’

  ‘I’ve only got a couple of weddings and I’ve passed them to Evie Chandler who runs Blossoms on Park View. Her lease runs out in March and it’s being taken over by a charity shop. This way we don’t let anyone down but we don’t give business to the competition.’

  ‘What about your staff?’

  ‘A bit depleted. Gemma failed to show for work on Monday so I told her not to bother coming back. Pat left a couple of months ago. Wendy was due to retire at the end of the year so I’ve paid her till then. My Saturday girl left for university. That just leaves Cathy and Trish, my delivery driver. I’ve not promised them anything but I’d strongly recommend you take them both on.’

  I nodded vigorously. ‘Definitely. I’ll call them this morning. Will that be enough staff? Mum said she’d help for a bit.’

  ‘I’d take her up on the offer and find yourself a Saturday kid. Then give it a couple of months to work out who else you need and when. Evie’s already volunteered to help if you’re ever stuck. I think she’s keen to keep her hand in.’

  ‘That’s kind of her,’ I said. ‘Okay, sounds like we have a plan.’

  Auntie Kay headed into The Outback. I took a slurp of my hot chocolate as I slowly turned in a circle looking round my ‘blank canvas’, my mind racing with ideas. It’s going to look fabulous. The lino can go for a start. And that horrible strip lighting. Thank goodness Auntie Kay can lend me some money because I’m going to need it. I want solid wood floors and ceiling spotlights. A large granite counter over there with loads of room to create…

  ‘You’re visualising it, aren’t you?’ she said, coming back into the shop.

  I nodded sheepishly. No matter what she said or did, I couldn’t help but feel guilty that I wanted to change what she’d lovingly created.

  ‘Has it sunk in yet that this is yours?’ she asked.

  ‘Not in the slightest.’

  ‘Then claim it.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Stand in the middle of the shop and say “this is mine”. Don’t look at me like that. I haven’t lost the plot if that’s what you’re thinking.’

  ‘It’s exactly what I was thinking.’

  ‘It doesn’t get you out of doing it, though.’

  Deciding I might as well humour her, I put my drink and croissant down on the floor and walked into the centre of the shop. ‘This is mine,’ I said, pulling a face at her.

  ‘Rubbish. Louder.’

  ‘This is mine,’ I repeated, a bit louder.

  ‘Louder.’

  I smiled and shook my head at her. ‘THIS IS MINE!’

  ‘Again.’

  ‘THIS IS MINE!’

  ‘Arms in the air. Jump up and down and shout it again and again.’

  ‘THIS IS MINE!’ I said jumping up and down like a cheerleader. ‘THIS IS MINE!’

  ‘Has it sunk in yet?’ she asked.

  ‘No. Should it have?’ I wandered back to her.

  ‘No. I didn’t think it would. But it was funny to watch.’

  ‘Auntie Kay! That’s mean.’ I gave her a little shove.

  ‘I couldn’t resist. So, what are you going to do first to create your dream premises?’

  I shrugged. ‘I don’t know. I really wasn’t expecting an empty shell. Maybe I could get the walls skimmed? There’s a few bits of damaged plaster where the shelves were.’

  ‘Great plan. No time like the present.’ She headed into The Outback and came back with the Yellow Pages. ‘By the way, I may have gutted in here but I haven’t touched The Outback. The stock cupboard’s full.’ She handed me the directory. ‘The phone’s still connected. Get calling. I’ll come back late this afternoon and see how you’re getting on.’

  ‘You’re leaving me?’ Panic!

  ‘I have a holiday wardrobe to buy. Linda and I are off to York.’

  ‘But—’

  ‘But nothing. You need me out your hair so you can be creative. See you later.’ With a tinkle of the bell she was gone.

  I ran to the door and locked it. I didn’t want any customers wandering in and seeing me in completely clueless mode. I frowned at the Yellow Pages in my hand. Did the place really need plastering? It was a lot
of money, but surely it was best to do it before I got any fittings or stock.

  I stood by the door debating for a while then headed into The Outback and put the Yellow Pages back on the desk. Maybe later. My eyes flicked to a small pile of envelopes and leaflets lying on the desk.

  That must be the post Auntie Kay picked up when we came in. Let’s see:

  Pizza flier — not now, thanks, just about to have my croissant.

  Electricity bill — Auntie Kay can have that.

  Floristry magazine — good for a bit of inspiration, must get it transferred into my name.

  Business card for Steve Higgins, Window Cleaner.

  Bank state — Hang on a minute, business card for whom?

  Chapter 8

  I grabbed the card and stared at it. Steve Higgins. Steve. Steven. Before I had time to think about whether or not it was a good idea, I’d dialled his mobile number. What am I going to say? He could be my destiny! I didn’t want to mess up our first conversation. I nearly hung up but the ringtone changed signalling an answer machine. Phew!

  ‘Hi, this is Steve Higgins, window cleaner.’ Sounds nice. Friendly. ‘I’m sorry I can’t answer.’ Polite. Always a good sign. ‘I’m probably up a ladder right now…’ Sense of humour. Up a ladder. Just like a fireman. Swoon! ‘…But leave your name, number and a message and I’ll get back to you as soon as it’s safe. Bye.’

  Strong confident voice with a slight North Yorkshire accent. Nice. Leave a message? Don’t leave a message? Dilemma!

  ‘Hi Steve. We’ve never met…’ Crap. I should have hung up. What a rubbish line. Must try to recover it. ‘My name’s Sarah. Sarah Peterson. I’m the new owner of Flowers on Castle Street. It’s my first day and I’ve just been sorting through the post. You dropped a card through the letterbox…’ Friendly and confident. Business-like, but with a fun tone of voice. Well recovered. ‘I need you…’ And completely ruined again. What is wrong with you? ‘I mean I need a window cleaner. Can you stop by? I’m here all day.’ Disconnect now. Quickly. Before you utter another word.

  I hung up and shook my head. ‘I need you.’ What the hell was that? And now I’d invited him to stop by. This could be The Steven Madame Louisa talked about and I’d invited him to casually stop by when I was wearing scruffy clothes and no make-up. Well done, Sarah. That was clever.

  After years of not caring, my appearance suddenly mattered very much. I used to care, but the non-proposal and steady weight-gain had put paid to that. I didn’t feel good so why bother to look good? My hair was long, dark, and naturally curly. I used to spend ages teasing it into new styles I found on YouTube or taming it into sleek shiny locks with my GHDs, but scraping it back into a ponytail seemed so much easier. I’d never been one for spending ages on my make-up, but I used to make a bit of effort. A bit of effort was soon replaced by virtually no effort; a dusting of loose powder to take the shine off and a slick of mascara. Frizzy hair in a ponytail and the natural look weren’t going to attract The Steven, were they?

  I glanced at my watch. It would take me at least forty-five minutes to get to Mum and Dad’s, change, apply make-up and get back. And that was assuming I caught the buses right. There was nothing for it; I had to go shopping. I downed the last of my hot chocolate, looked sadly at the untouched croissant and grabbed my bag.

  Carrier bags in hands, my pulse raced as I power-walked back down the precinct towards Castle Street. Glancing at the clock outside HSBC I did a double-take. No! I can’t have been gone an hour and a half. It’s not possible. But the mountain of carriers dangling from my aching arms told me it was. Clothes, make-up, shoes. I’d even bought some underwear from a lingerie concession in Debenhams (okay, so Steve Higgins wasn’t going to see my underwear at our first meeting but I’d know I was in a matching set of bra and knickers for the first time in a year and I’d feel good, which would come over to him as sexy and confident, therefore creating a good first impression). An hour and a half? I could have got home and back in half that time and saved myself… pants …£215. How did that happen? Thank goodness for birthday money.

  I hastily unlocked the door. Another business card lay on the mat. Don’t say I’ve missed him. Not after all this effort. I picked it up and turned it over. In neat capitals on the back it read, ‘MISSED YOU. DONE YOUR WINDOWS FOR FREE AS TRIAL. IF HAPPY WITH THEM, LEAVE MESSAGE & I’LL COME BACK EACH MON BEFORE YOU OPEN IF THAT SUITS. STEVE’

  I ran to the desk and dropped my bags on the floor, cursing myself for being so stupid. I reached towards the phone then stopped. I didn’t trust myself not to turn into a gibbering wreck and explain what I’d been doing instead of meeting him. Even I could see that my behaviour during the last hour-and-a-half had been pretty pathetic and desperate. What on earth had got into me? Maybe I’d get Elise to call him or, even better, chicken out and send a text. Hurrah for faceless technology!

  I wandered back into the shop and looked around. I still needed to phone some plasterers, but I couldn’t face it. No doubt they’d all be men and it was probably a good idea to stay away from men for the rest of the day. Perhaps it was a good time to clear the stock cupboard. Surely that couldn’t go wrong.

  I took one more look at my carriers as I walked past the desk. What a waste of time and money. Not to mention dignity.

  * From Auntie Kay

  On mad purchase frenzy. Staying in York tonight with Linda. Hope you’re OK. Sorry to abandon you. See you late tomorrow afternoon. Hope you found a good plasterer. Text if you have any questions xxxx

  ‘Oh Elise, I wish Auntie Kay hadn’t disappeared to York for the day.’ I flopped back on the desk chair and pouted. ‘She could have saved me from making a fool of myself and spending a small fortune that I could have invested in the business instead.’

  ‘I feel your pain,’ Elise said. She adjusted her position on the desk slightly, knocking over a pot of pens in the process. ‘Oops. Sorry.’

  ‘It’s fine. Leave them. I need to sort the whole desk out. The Outback is a bit of a mess. Like my love life.’

  Elise laughed. ‘Whoa! That was a little dramatic, don’t you think? Should I start calling you Clare?’

  ‘I’m being pathetic aren’t I?’

  ‘Not pathetic. Just someone who wants to meet Mr Right and there’s nothing wrong with that, but give it time. It’s only your first full day at home.’ Elise leaned against the wall again. ‘Maybe he wasn’t The Steven anyway. It’s a common name. You might meet a few before you meet the right one.’

  ‘Maybe. Do you really think it’s going to happen? Or do you think Clare’s right about the tape being a load of rubbish?’ I realised I’d crossed my fingers and hoped Elise wouldn’t notice.

  ‘I think she used slightly stronger words than “rubbish”,’ she said. ‘But to answer your question, everything else was accurate so why not that? I find the sudden re-appearance of the tape on the weekend you move home a bit mysterious and perhaps even magical, so I can’t help thinking it’s all part of something amazing that’s about to happen to you.’

  I smiled and sat forward. ‘I keep thinking that too.’

  ‘You said you’d listened to the tape again?’

  ‘Three times. Everything’s so accurate. The only unexplained bit is that stuff about the lighthouse picture and the bracelet. I think Mum may think I’ve gone mad because she caught me with the sofa pulled out, all the cushions off it, and the carpet pulled up looking for her bracelet. I had to make out I’d lost my earring then felt really stupid when she pointed out I was wearing a pair.’

  ‘I take it you didn’t find her bracelet?’

  ‘No. Just 73p in change and a wine gum.’

  ‘And the photo?’

  ‘I asked her but she wasn’t aware of one. I asked Auntie Kay but drew a blank there too. They both said I resemble Grandma, but they’ve always said that. I’m assuming there’s something about this photo that sh
ows the resemblance more clearly.’

  Elise shrugged. ‘Maybe it will suddenly show up and you’ll know for sure. Just like the tape did.’

  A shiver of delight ran down my back. ‘It all seems so magical, like you said. The Steven could still be the window cleaner, but if he isn’t, how do you think I’ll meet him?’

  ‘He could be a customer,’ Elise suggested.

  ‘I’m not so sure.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘What will the shop mainly be selling?’

  ‘Flowers.’

  ‘And who do men buy flowers for?’

  ‘Their wives or girlfriends? Oh, I see. Good point.’

  ‘It probably isn’t the best choice of business for meeting my future husband.’

  ‘What about someone buying flowers for his mum?’ Elise suggested.

  ‘Maybe. Although I suspect most men our age would order online or they’d buy from a supermarket. Where does Gary get you flowers from?’

  Elise shrugged. ‘I’d be able to tell you if he ever bought me flowers.’

  ‘Oh. Sorry.’ Oops!

  ‘Don’t be. Men!’ Elise smiled but it didn’t reach her eyes. I was on the verge of asking her if everything was okay at home but she continued talking. ‘Perhaps you’ll just meet him on a night out in town. I promise we’ll have lots of those. I’m so excited to have you back home after all these years.’

  ‘I’m excited to be back,’ I said. ‘Which is a little odd as I was adamant I’d moved away and that was that. How things change, eh? Hey, does Gary have any single friends called Steven?’

  I watched Elise’s lips moving as if she was listing all her husband’s male friends. ‘I don’t think so,’ she said eventually. ‘One of the doctors at his surgery is called Simon but that’s the closest. I can double check with him if you like?’

  ‘Would you? But be subtle. I’d rather only you and Clare knew about my little search.’

  ‘Okay. Discretion it is. Ooh, I know a Steven from school.’

  ‘Really? What’s he like?’

  ‘Married with three children and twins on the way. Don’t think it’ll be him somehow. I don’t think I know any other Stevens, or at least none above the age of consent.’ Elise picked up a pen and clicked the end on and off a few times. ‘Back to Steve the window cleaner. Any plans?’