by Emma Davies
She could feel herself filling with anger at Ned, at his attitude, and even though it was she who was in the wrong, she also acknowledged that a part of her wasn’t prepared to let it go for some reason. And then, suddenly, as she tried to reason with herself why that was, the thought which had been evading her throughout their conversation skewered her brain like a white-hot spike. The bottom of her stomach dropped away in shock and her hand travelled to her mouth unbidden.
‘Oh, my God,’ she said slowly, staring at Ned with wide eyes. ‘How could I have been so stupid?’ She shook her head. ‘How long did it take you to think up your plan, Ned? I mean, it can’t have been all that long, because my shop was on the market when you first came in…’
‘What…?’
‘And I even remember thinking to myself how things like this didn’t happen to people like me. That men didn’t just come into my shop to tell me how beautiful I was, or go on to wine and dine me, buy me presents and tell me that they just can’t get me out of their minds…’
Her eyes bored into his. ‘And the reason that doesn’t happen other than in soppy films is because it wasn’t true, was it? You didn’t think any of those things at all, you just wanted someone to get you off the hook with Caroline. To be the love of your life so that she would see how impossible her plan was… maybe even give it up. The fact that I would potentially arrive with a pot of money as well was even better – God, I bet you couldn’t believe your luck.’
Ned stood up, throwing himself backwards and away from her as a gale of sarcastic laughter exploded from his lips.
‘Me?’ he accused her. ‘That’s what I’m supposed to have done? What about you?’ He licked his lips as a dribble of spittle rolled down his chin. ‘You say you had no money, no business… and therefore no home… My God, Flora, it would be funny if it wasn’t so bloody insulting. Not only have you accused me of being false, but you actually are. You didn’t come here because you loved me at all. You came here because I was your meal ticket. Admit it. Coming here has given you a roof over your head.’
He broke off only to gather breath, but she had got to her own feet now and pointed a finger at his chest.
‘Well that just goes to show how little you know me, or how little you think of me. Don’t you dare accuse me of that. Not after all I’ve done. Running around after you all, back and forth to the hospital, caring for Fraser like he was my own dad. How could I have done that if I didn’t love you?’ She was close to tears, her anger rapidly fading, as a wrenching sadness threatened to overwhelm her. ‘Just tell me the truth, Ned. Tell me that it didn’t honestly occur to you how useful I could be…’
She looked up into his face, longing to see the denial there, hoping that even after all they had done to each other he could still find it within himself to protest his innocence and pull her to him. But although he opened his mouth to speak, he hesitated for a fraction of a second. Just long enough for the truth to climb inside. And even through her pain Flora could see the irony of it. Ned was a good man, he was basically an honest man not given to lying, and now his hesitation had given him away.
‘I thought so,’ she said as a single tear broke free and rolled down her cheek. And then she left the room.
Chapter Twenty-Two
For the first twenty minutes or so Flora walked blindly; she didn’t care where she was going, she just wanted to be away from the house. It wasn’t until she reached the stile at the far end of the field that she realised she was heading for Grace’s house, or rather her garden. She wanted to sit on the slope below the beehives and let the peace she’d found there seep inside her before she could even contemplate thinking about what had just happened.
She’d pushed past Hannah as she walked through the kitchen on her way out, evading her concerned questions, but aware that her anxious face was following her movements. She stopped only to collect a coat from the scullery and pull on her boots and, although Hannah had come to the door after her, Flora hadn’t even turned around before she walked out. Hannah wasn’t daft; Flora and Ned hadn’t exactly shouted at one another, but the walls were thin and their dispute had been heated. Flora knew that she would have heard enough to figure out what their argument had been about. She just prayed that, with the dining room door closed, Fraser hadn’t heard a thing. If she were really lucky, he might even have been asleep. She scrubbed the thought from her mind; her luck seemed to have well and truly run out.
She reached the gate at the bottom of Grace’s garden and looked up at the steep slope ahead of her. On other days it might have seemed a little daunting, but Flora was not in the mood to let anything stand in her way and she picked up her pace, powering up the incline until she reached the point where she wanted to be. She sank to the ground, not caring about the cold and damp, and then brought her knees to her chest, wrapped her arms around them, and dropped her head.
She gazed out across the fields she had just walked, the farm spread out and perfectly framed in front of her, just like a photograph. Which was of course the very reason she had walked here in the first place; she wanted to see how far she had come. Not today, but from that first day when she had arrived with all her dreams of a new future packed in her suitcase, thinking that the house at Hope Corner would be the place to see them come true. Now those thoughts seemed foolish… or did they?
Her breathing had slowed with her march across the fields, risen after her ferocious ascent of the hill, and now began to settle again as the soft breeze of a fine spring day nudged her gently. It was mild under the shelter of the trees and the sun, still tentative, had found a little warmth. And as she breathed out her worries, she breathed back in the stillness she had been longing for.
The trouble was that she could still see the future mapped out. The solution to the farm’s problems that had been staring her in the face was now literally right in front of her, and she thought back to the day not long ago when she had caught her first glimpse of it. She had seen flowers everywhere, standing in rows and rows against a cloudless sky, their heads swaying gently in a benign breeze, and it had felt possible. It had seemed like something which could actually happen here, not a hare-brained scheme, but part of a new life which she and Ned could forge together. And everything she had learned and planned over the last couple of days had proven that to be the case.
Less than two weeks ago she and Hannah had sown tray after tray of flower seeds and, even though she hadn’t really been aware of the farm’s problems at the time, had she somehow known what the solution could be? Common sense told her that it couldn’t possibly be the case, but the wheel of Flora’s life often turned according to her intuition, and she had never doubted it before.
The year just gone had been her last as a florist. She’d been struggling for a while and, although the loan had helped in the short term, she’d known she was fooling herself, pretending that business would pick up and get back to how it had been before. And then had come the day when her world had fallen apart and it had taken less than a week for her to figure out what she must do. After that, it had all seemed so simple. Her own need for change had coincided with the door to her shop opening and Ned walking in. It didn’t alter anything, not really…
So had what he accused her of been true? Had she taken advantage of him, however unwittingly, to make the new life for herself that she desperately needed? But whichever way she thought about it, she was certain that wasn’t the way it had happened. Having a partner simply hadn’t figured as an immediate part of her future and the intensity of feeling that swept over her whenever she was with Ned had taken her completely by surprise. She had blossomed when she met him, become fully awake to all the possibility that lay within her. But, more than that, she had been accepted for who she was and loved – she had thought – for all her silly notions, and ridiculous clothes that other people thought made her weird. When Ned had proposed, her initial reaction had been panic, until she’d realised that it wasn’t panic at all, but excitement, a feeling that up
until that time she’d had little experience of. Flora could fill with joy at the drop of a hat, but real excitement was what had carried her forward right up until this day.
She unclasped her hands and laid a palm on the grass beside her, feeling the energy of the young green shoots between her fingers, their size belying a strength that could split concrete. A solitary bee buzzed an early bunch of clover and she looked up the slope behind her towards the hive. If ever there was a testament to the power of working together then that was it. And how sweet the reward…
She was certain that the conclusions she had come to over her own business could be made to work here; the farm needed to cut its losses, a radical change instead of an energy-draining struggle. Hope Corner Farm needed to become small, to sell off its land and keep only what it needed, using the money raised to clear its debt and become its own powerful force for the future. They had everything they needed here, they always had, but it broke her heart to think that this probably now no longer included her.
She would give anything to be able to stay and work alongside Ned day by day, sharing their lives, their good days, their bad days, weathering it all inside the shelter of their love. But sometimes, however much you wanted them to, things just didn’t turn out. She stared out across the fields, at the house, at the windows, as if with X-ray eyes she could see the very place that Ned would have taken himself to lick his wounds.
Flora knew he was hurting. The look on his face as she left would stay with her for a very long time. And she knew he loved her, it wasn’t that. But somehow they had moved past caring and their relationship had become a test of faith, of trust in each other, and in that regard they had both failed. The very foundation of their love had been shown to have been built on shifting sands, not solid ground as it ought to have been. And, as a result, everything they had piled on top of it had slipped at the first sign of pressure.
She sat for a few more moments, letting the rays of the low sun warm her face, and then she slowly got to her feet and began the walk back to the farm.
It was even warmer in the greenhouse and Flora ran a light finger across the surface of the soil in one of the seed trays she and Hannah had planted. Then she picked up a watering can that sat underneath one of the benches and, half filling it from the outside tap just across the yard, returned to tend to her young charges. It was the least she could do.
As the soil darkened from the water, she peered closer, wondering at first whether it was a trick of the light, but no, there were definite green shoots. Only tiny, but pushing their way up towards the light nonetheless. She dropped the watering can, righting it quickly before all the water was lost, but her vision was blurred by the sudden tears that burst from her, leaving her gasping. It really was too cruel. But Flora couldn’t stop herself now, and the tears continued to flow as she stood, chest heaving, weeping at the sight of hundreds of tiny seedlings that she would never see grow.
It was quiet in the house when she finally got back. Quiet and too still, as if something indefinable had left. It made moving through the house awkward as if she no longer had any right to be there. In a way she was grateful; better to simply slip quietly away now and avoid any unpleasantness. At least this way she would spare Ned any more upset. Resolutely avoiding Brodie’s eye as she passed, she walked through into the hallway on her way upstairs to pack a bag. Enough for just a couple of nights, until she was settled with her sister and could arrange for the rest of her things to be sent on.
And she almost made it. She had one hand on the newel post, but then—
‘Flora?’
She turned back, only now noticing that the dining room door was open. Fraser sat in his chair, a book in his lap.
Straightening herself up, she dragged a smile onto her face.
‘Hi, Fraser. Is everything okay, do you need something?’
There was no sign of Hannah.
‘You’ve been out,’ he said. ‘It looks like a beautiful day.’
She nodded. ‘It is. Quite warm.’
He tutted and at once she could see the frustration on his face.
‘And if I have to stay sitting in this chair any longer, I shall go stark staring raving mad.’ He picked up the book and then tossed it dismissively onto the low table by his side. ‘I haven’t read a book in years. Not something I’m especially proud of, but then when have I ever had time to read a book? I’m always outside, and if I don’t get out, right now, I’m very afraid I shall be sitting in this chair forever.’
Flora looked around, fully expecting to see Hannah appear.
‘She’s gone for a lie-down. Upstairs,’ said Fraser. ‘So I was wondering… whether I could ask you to accompany me on what might turn out to be the world’s shortest walk. Even if I can just lean up against the side of the house, panting, it will be something.’
‘But I’m not sure…’
‘I’m supposed to be walking every day. Doctors’ orders. Five minutes today, or longer if I can manage it.’
Flora didn’t know what to do. Surely this was Hannah’s territory? And what if Fraser overdid things or, worse, got into difficulty while they were out? And of course that was without the fact that she had just been bawling her eyes out and was planning on leaving.
Fraser was still looking up at her. ‘Please, Flora. The thought of the whole afternoon and evening ahead of me is almost unbearable.’
It was hard to refuse him. ‘But do you feel all right?’
There was a long pause, which made Flora realise the question wasn’t one which required an answer. But, bless him, Fraser drew himself up, looked her in the eye and inhaled a breath.
‘No,’ he said. ‘I feel like shit. But as I’m going to feel like that pretty much anywhere, I’m happy for it to be outside.’
Despite herself, Flora smiled. She knew exactly what he meant.
She looked around the room. ‘Have you got some shoes somewhere?’
‘Somewhere. But seeing as putting them on will feel like running a marathon, slippers it is.’
‘Well, a coat then? Hannah will kill me if you get cold.’
‘Since when have I ever worn a coat?’
‘Since around the time you asked me to accompany you on a walk.’
He held her look. ‘You bloody women are all the same, bossy as hell,’ he said, but he was smiling.
‘So how do we do this?’ she asked, wondering what help he needed.
‘Even slower than slowly…’ came the gruff reply as he began to inch forward in his seat.
Flora hovered, not knowing whether she should be supporting him or not, but she winced as he got to his feet, obviously in pain. She put out a tentative hand, which to her surprise he took, giving it a squeeze.
‘I don’t know how we do this either,’ he said. ‘So that makes two of us.’ He looked her square in the face. ‘I guess we’ll just have to figure it out together.’
The breath caught in her throat. There was something in his eyes she couldn’t quite fathom, a message she couldn’t quite decipher, but one that she was meant to see.
He dropped her hand, motioning that she should walk on ahead and, after what seemed like at least twenty minutes had passed, they reached the back door. He was already out of breath.
‘Don’t ever have a heart attack, Flora,’ he panted. ‘I really don’t recommend them.’
It was all she could do to nod, let alone reply as another rush of tears threatened to engulf her. It was hateful seeing Fraser like this, but at least his heart was hopefully on the mend; hers was broken beyond repair.
‘We’ll walk to the edge of the garden,’ he added. ‘And that way I can do laps as I improve. It will give me something to aim for each day. I need to get better, and sitting on my backside being waited on hand and foot isn’t going to help. I’m counting on you, Flora. I need some of your determination to get me going.’
She helped him on with his jacket. ‘Me?’ She almost laughed. ‘I think you’ve got me confused with someone
else,’ she said.
He stopped suddenly and she thought she had hurt him as she tried to ease his arms into his coat. The thought of what had been done to his breastbone was at the forefront of her mind.
‘Oh, I don’t think so,’ he said, clear as a bell. ‘You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to this place. We needed shaking up. Waking up, actually.’
He waited while she opened the door and then, holding onto the door frame, he lowered first one leg over the step and then the other until he was on the path.
‘I’ve been doing a lot of thinking over the last few days, not something I’m all that familiar with as it happens and I’m not proud of that either. But you have to do something when you can’t bloody sleep and, funnily enough, having nearly kept my appointment with the Grim Reaper, there’s been one or two things going around my head…’
‘Oh, Fraser…’
‘And one of the things that’s been going around my head is this place, not surprisingly.’ He stopped and turned his face towards the sun. ‘Ah, that’s a slice of heaven, isn’t it?’
Without waiting for a reply he took another step forward. ‘Which is why I’ve also been thinking about you… and Ned… and why I really don’t want to see you go, Flora.’
She stared at him, mouth open.
‘You were leaving, weren’t you? Anyone who creeps through the house like you did just now is after a quiet getaway.’
If anything, her mouth dropped open even more.