The Little Flower Shop by the Sea

by Ali McNamara

  We walk over to a low table against the far wall of the pub, I sit down on the sofa that’s at one side of the table, and I expect Ash to take a seat on one of the comfy chairs at the other side. But he doesn’t, he comes and sits right next to me.

  ‘Now,’ he says, ‘let’s talk nappies.’

  For the next half-hour or so we have a fun time reminiscing about old Stan and the castle.

  ‘It must have been such a wrench for Stan, leaving Trecarlan,’ I say, thinking fondly of my old friend. ‘He loved that place. I’m sure he would never have left unless it was absolutely necessary, and then he’d have clung on until they had to drag him away. Stan may have been a bit eccentric, but he had a good heart. He was always lovely to me and Will.’

  ‘What’s your brother doing these days?’ Ash asks. ‘Didn’t he fancy running a flower shop?’

  I reach for my glass and am dismayed to find it empty.

  ‘I seem to be empty,’ I say, hoping Ash will take the hint.

  ‘Yeah, me too,’ he says, holding up his glass. ‘I’ll go up in a minute, they’re a bit busy at the moment.’

  ‘No, my round,’ I say, leaping up. ‘Same again?’

  Ash doesn’t really have a chance to answer; I’ve already left.

  I breathe a sigh of relief as I wait at the bar for Rita or Richie to see me. I should have known Ash would ask questions about Will. I should have been prepared.

  The pub seems much busier tonight than it has been of late – and I’m surprised and pleased for Rita and Richie. They deserve success, they’re a lovely couple. Someone squeezes roughly into the space next to me, and I’m about to tell them to watch it, when I turn around to find it’s Jake.

  ‘Hi,’ he says looking uncomfortable at seeing me standing next to him. ‘I didn’t expect to see you in here tonight. Can I get you something?’

  ‘Er… no, I’m fine, thank you.’

  Oh boy, this is awkward. I glance over at Ash, but he’s facing the other way.

  ‘Poppy, let me buy you a drink to make up for yesterday. We’re still mates, aren’t we?’

  Jake seems anxious that I might say no.

  ‘Of course we are,’ I reply, relaxing a little. ‘Yesterday was just a silly mistake on my part. I’m sorry.’

  ‘Poppy, you’ve nothing to be sorry for.’ Jake places his hand over mine as it rests on the bar. But the contact is too much, and immediately I pull away.

  ‘How about I buy you a drink,’ I say hurriedly, ‘just to show there’s no hard feelings. OK?’

  Jake nods, but he looks dismayed at my rebuff.

  ‘What would you like?’ I ask, hoping Rita or Ritchie will hurry up and see me.

  ‘My usual,’ Jake says, obviously surprised I have to ask. ‘A pint of Tribute.’

  ‘Yes, of course,’ I say. ‘Richie!’ I call, trying to attract his attention.

  ‘Yes, Poppy, what can I get you?’ Richie says, arriving at the bar in front of us. He looks startled to see Jake standing next to me. ‘Oh, you are with Jake, I knew Rita had got it wrong earlier when she said you were with —’

  ‘A pint of Tribute, a medium white wine, and a JD and Coke please, Rich,’ I say, cutting him off.

  ‘Ah, right… gotcha.’ He winks at me and begins pouring the drinks.

  ‘Three drinks, Poppy?’ Jake enquires. ‘Are you feeling particularly thirsty this evening?’

  ‘No, the other one is for someone else.’

  ‘But still no pint for you. Plus you’re wearing some colour. Golly, you must be out to impress!’ I know Jake is joking, and usually I’m much happier when things between us are light-hearted and flippant like this, but Jake is getting a bit too close to the truth.

  ‘No, I just wanted a change, that’s all.’

  ‘Nothing wrong in that, change is good.’ Jake smiles at me, and I turn away. This is getting more awkward by the second.

  Richie finishes pouring my drinks and stands them in front of me. I pass him a twenty-pound note.

  ‘Yours, I believe.’ I slide Jake’s drink to him along the bar, and our fingertips touch as he goes to take the beer from me. Our eyes meet for a second over the top of the glass.

  ‘Cheers, Poppy,’ Jake says, lifting his pint and taking a sip. ‘So which is yours?’ he asks, looking at the two glasses in my hands.

  I lift the wine glass.

  ‘Very nice, and the other is for…?’

  I glance over to where Ash is waiting for me.

  I think I see Jake flinch slightly as he follows my gaze, but I can’t be sure.

  ‘So it’s young Ash who is the lucky recipient of the Jack Daniels. Very nice.’

  I wait for him to say something else, but he doesn’t, he just picks up his pint and takes another sip.

  ‘Right, well, I’d best be getting back over there then. Enjoy your beer.’

  For a moment I think Jake is about to say something, but instead he just nods calmly, and I find myself heading back over to Ash, trying not to spill the drinks.

  ‘All right?’ Ash asks as I sit down. ‘I was wondering, do you remember a time when you and your brother were playing hide and seek, and you let me join in…’

  While he’s talking I drift off with my own thoughts, thoughts about Jake.

  Why didn’t he say anything while we were at the bar just then? Didn’t he care I was in here on a date with Ash? He must have realised that’s what it was.

  Obviously he had no reason to care what I got up to any more. He’d made that perfectly clear yesterday.

  I sulk for a few seconds, before sensible thoughts start filtering into my brain past all the huffy ones.

  What was I expecting him to say, even if he did care?

  ‘Ash isn’t good enough for you. I was wrong, let me whisk you back to my flower beds and make mad passionate love to you immediately.’

  I almost blush at the thought. Anyway, what good would it have done if he had said that? I’d have only been freaked out by all the flowers and run away!

  No, I had to get used to the fact that Jake wanted to be my friend, nothing more. If I wanted anything else, I was going to have to look for it elsewhere.

  ‘… and I remember Will getting stuck in the larder, so when my granny Babs came in to start making the lunch that day she got such a shock… Poppy? Are you listening to me?’ Ash asks, tilting his head to one side.

  ‘Of course!’ I drop back into the real world with an imaginary thud. ‘Will made up a story to cover him being in the pantry, something about him thinking about becoming a chef when he left school. But then he was caught out, because he had to stay and help Babs make sandwiches for Stan’s lunch.’

  ‘Yes, that’s right.’ Ash thinks. ‘You were going to tell me about Will earlier: what’s he doing now?’

  ‘Will died,’ I announce, suddenly wanting to tell someone instead of keeping it hidden all the time. I was tired of secrets. ‘He died fifteen years ago.’

  ‘Oh, I’m so sorry,’ Ash says, looking quite shaken. ‘I had no idea, I wouldn’t have kept going on about him if I’d known.’

  ‘It’s fine. Sometimes it’s nice to talk about him again, and remember.’

  ‘What happened, or would you rather not talk about it?’

  I was ready to tell someone Will was no longer with us, but I wasn’t ready to go into details.

  ‘No, I’d rather not, if you don’t mind.’

  Ash takes a long drink from his glass.

  ‘Do you mind if I have a bit of that?’ I ask him. ‘Suddenly I feel like something stronger than wine.’

  ‘Go for it,’ he says, holding out the glass.

  I take Ash’s glass and swallow a large gulp of the whisky, then another, and a third until the glass is empty.

  ‘Wow,’ Ash says, looking impressed. ‘You OK?’

  ‘Yeah, I’m fine. Let’s get out of here, shall we? It’s starting to feel a bit stuffy.’

  It’s quite hot in the bar, but for once the reason I’m feeling suffocat
ed has nothing to do with the place being crowded or because I’ve picked up the scent of a bunch of flowers. It’s because I’m aware of Jake’s eyes glancing across at us every few minutes.

  ‘Sure thing,’ Ash says, standing up.

  We make our way out of the busy pub into the cool night air, and I stop for a moment to breathe in the fresh saltiness coming off the sea.

  ‘You OK?’ Ash asks again. ‘Sorry about your brother…’

  ‘Ash, I should thank you,’ I say, turning towards him. ‘It’s the first time since I’ve been back in St Felix that I’ve been able to tell anyone that. It’s as if you’ve released something in me, something that needed to be set free.’

  ‘Really?’ Ash says, moving towards me slightly. He reaches out his hand and gently takes a strand of my hair that’s blowing in the breeze and tucks it gently behind my ear. ‘Is there anything else you’d like to set free?’

  His hand lingers on my jaw, his fingers stroking my skin so delicately I can hardly tell if it’s him or the sea breeze caressing my face.

  I look up at him and nod.

  Ash leans down, his face hovers in front of mine for a second, his bright blue eyes examining my face, until they fall upon my lips, then he leans forward that tiny bit more and I feel his lips on mine…

  Twenty-five

  Sweet Pea – Delicate Pleasures

  The next morning I wake up in my bed at the cottage and see the wonky ceiling above me.

  Nothing odd in that, I do it most mornings as soon as the sun starts creeping through the thin curtains to wake me. What is odd, I realise, suddenly remembering last night, is the extra person lying naked next to me in the bed.

  I turn my head carefully so as not to disturb him, and see Ash sleeping peacefully, his face turned towards me on the pillow.

  Oh God… I hadn’t.

  But I had.

  Last night after he’d kissed me outside the pub, Ash and I had gone a bit mad. We’d run along the harbour, then up over the other side of the hill that St Felix is perched on, to the beach, where we’d taken off our shoes and run laughing and kissing along the length of the sand, until Ash had taken me in his arms and kissed me so hard and fast that we almost did it right there on the sand.

  But I still had a little bit of sense about me, and managed to peel him off my body long enough to suggest we might have a more comfortable time if we headed back to the cottage.

  When we’d got back we’d crept in quietly in case Amber was still awake. She’d told me before I went out that she was going to take a bath, do some meditation, and have an early night.

  So Ash and I had sneaked straight into my room, trying to be as quiet as we could. It did cross my mind I was being a bit reckless – after all, I hardly knew Ash, and he was a fair bit younger than me. I may have done many things in my life that were irresponsible, but sex wasn’t usually something I messed about with.

  But this felt right. I needed to let off some steam, and Ash, apart from being very attractive, had been the catalyst to make me want to do so.

  And best of all, I didn’t think about Jake once.

  It had been quite some time since I’d woken up with someone in my bed next to me, and it felt as awkward today as it had always done.

  I wonder how sound a sleeper Ash is. I move, and he doesn’t stir. So I pull back the sheets and sit up. He shuffles a bit, but his eyes don’t open. So I lift myself slowly off the bed and grab my PJs from the chair. I wish I had a dressing gown I could sexily slip into, but I hadn’t expected to be staying this long in St Felix when I’d originally packed, so it isn’t something I have the luxury of this morning. I take one last look at him still sleeping, and then I slip out of the door.

  ‘Well, well, well!’ Amber says, eyeing me from her place at the sink as I enter the kitchen. ‘Look who snuck out of the love nest early!’

  ‘What do you mean?’ I ask, wandering over to the fridge to get juice.

  ‘Come on, Poppy, I may be a bit ditsy sometimes, but I’m not deaf. I heard you sneaking lover boy into the cottage last night.’

  ‘Ah… that.’

  ‘Yes that,’ she says, as she dries her hands on a towel. ‘Well?’ she whispers. ‘What’s he like?’

  I’m surprised Amber isn’t more shocked that I slept with Ash on what I wasn’t even admitting to her was a first date.

  ‘He’s very nice,’ I reply coyly.

  ‘Nice as a person, or nice,’ she grimaces, ‘in bed. Because the two are very different things…’

  ‘Amber…’ I flash my eyes at her. ‘He’s a nice person to be with, and…’ I flush. ‘Pretty good in the other department too.’

  ‘Ooh, jackpot!’ she says, pulling an imaginary handle.

  ‘Somebody won something?’

  We both turn and see Ash walking through the kitchen door. His hair is dishevelled and he’s pulled on his jeans, but his feet and his very well developed chest are bare.

  ‘I think Poppy has,’ Amber says, raising her eyebrows at me.

  ‘Tea, Ash? Or coffee?’ I offer.

  ‘Coffee would be great,’ he says. ‘Do you mind if I jump in the shower?’

  I see Amber swallow hard.

  ‘No, go right ahead,’ I tell him. ‘You’ll find fresh towels on the side.’

  ‘Thanks. See you in a bit.’

  ‘Wow,’ Amber says as soon as he’s gone. ‘You are one lucky lady, Miss Poppy.’

  ‘He is pretty fit, isn’t he?’ I can’t help but smile.

  ‘Er… ya!’

  ‘I’m surprised you aren’t more shocked that I brought him back here last night.’

  ‘Nah.’ Amber waves her hand. ‘I knew you would.’

  ‘How? When I was insisting to you it wasn’t even a date.’

  Amber taps the side of her head. ‘Never doubt the powers of Amber,’ she says. ‘I know many, many things before they happen.’

  ‘OK…’ I wave my hand, not wanting to know more. I had no need to know if she’d read her cards, or her crystals or whatever else she could find. ‘But I bet you can’t predict what I’m going to do next?’

  ‘Make Ash breakfast?’

  ‘Haha! See, that’s where you’re wrong.’ I walk back towards the door Ash has just gone through. ‘Even you couldn’t predict this one, Amber. I am going to join him in the shower…’

  ‘Poppy, you minx!’ I hear Amber call after me as I reach for the bathroom door.

  Later that day Amber and I are back in the shop waiting for a young couple, Katie and Jonathan, to arrive for their appointment with us. In a few weeks’ time Daisy Chain will be providing the flowers for their wedding in a large country hotel about half an hour away from St Felix.

  It’s the first wedding we’ve been asked to do, and Amber is understandably nervous at the prospect.

  ‘But I’ve never done a wedding on my own,’ she said when we’d first been approached. ‘Your mom always did all the organising, I just helped out.’

  ‘You’ll be fine, Amber,’ I’d assured her. ‘You’re a brilliant florist. The bride wouldn’t have specially asked for you if you weren’t.’

  ‘The bride asked for Daisy Chain to do the flowers, not me,’ she’d said, still looking worried. ‘It was your grandmother’s reputation that sealed the deal.’

  Eventually I’d managed to persuade her this was something she could do – and do well – and we’d had a preliminary meeting with the bride to discuss her requirements.

  This afternoon Katie’s back with her groom, Jonathan, to discuss the designs Amber has come up with for the wedding, and to confirm how many flowers will be required – plus the all-important cost.

  ‘So,’ Amber says as we wait for them to arrive, and she puts the finishing touches to a birthday arrangement for a grandmother of pale pink roses, meaning grace, and white lilies, meaning majesty. ‘What’s happening with you and lover boy?’

  I roll my eyes as I watch her. Since Marie’s visit, Amber has been quite open about her use of t
he flower books for guidance in her arrangements, and she will happily inform me which flowers she’s using and why. The science of it – I preferred to call it that rather than magic – was fascinating, but I still preferred to let Amber deal with the actual arranging of the flowers. I wasn’t ready to be that hands-on just yet, even though I had to admit I was finding being in the shop much easier these days.