It was too chilly for Ethel to be outside at the moment, but when the weather picked up we’d be able to take him into the gardens. Assuming she was still in here of course; she could be back home by then.
Scamp was in seventh heaven. Despite his size, he was determined to cram as much of his body onto Ethel’s knees as he could. She insisted she wasn’t uncomfortable but I had a suspicion she’d gladly endure pain just to feel Scamp’s familiar warmth and inhale his doggy smell as though she was at home again.
‘But you’re all right, aren’t you,’ I said, sipping my tea. ‘You like it here?’
‘Move over, you bony beast,’ said Ethel, nudging Scamp out of the way as she reached for her mug. ‘I am perfectly fine, dear, thank you for asking. Despite being pushed and pulled and made to exercise every five minutes at my age.’
I suppressed a smile. ‘Do you mean your daily physiotherapy to help you stay mobile?’
‘I shouldn’t grumble, I suppose.’ Ethel sipped her tea and confided that although she wasn’t used to such a regimented life, she felt safer than she’d done in Pineapple Road, just knowing there was someone on hand if she fell.
She patted Scamp’s head fondly. ‘Feels a bit odd not having this old boy on my bed but …’
‘You told me he wasn’t allowed on the bed!’
‘Yes, well.’ She looked shifty. ‘He isn’t officially. But I can’t help it if he creeps up in the night. What about at your house then?’ She pursed her lips. ‘Sleep in his basket, does he?’
‘Sometimes,’ I replied.
We both laughed at my blatant lie.
‘Anyway,’ she continued, running her hand over his head. ‘I think I’ve adjusted well to captivity. The only downside to living here is that Scamp can’t join me. I do miss him.’
Her voice had gone a bit quavery, but I knew better than to draw attention to it. She was like me in that respect, didn’t always like to discuss her feelings. And of course she missed her constant companion. He’d only lived with me for a few weeks and already I knew that the house would feel empty without him.
‘Perhaps you should have thought of that before you decided to go climbing on chairs in your bedroom.’ I raised my eyebrows sternly at her and offered her a biscuit.
She took two.
‘I was thinking of you. I wanted you to look at my photograph albums. The ones of George and me mountain climbing on the Continent. I thought I might inspire you to get out and see the world.’
‘Hmm, well, breaking your hip wasn’t very inspirational and I think that chair escapade might have put paid to your mountain climbing for good.’
‘Don’t care.’ She dipped the edge of the biscuit into the hot tea and closed her eyes with pleasure as she bit into it. ‘It’s you I’m concerned about. Still watching films of other people having adventures, are you?’
The night before her accident, I’d called around with provisions and showed her the DVD I’d bought about a woman who sets off on a dangerous journey to find herself.
‘I wish I’d never told you about that. Besides, I can’t swan off having adventures now, can I?’ I said playfully. ‘I’m busy looking after your dog.’
Ethel’s face fell. ‘If you don’t want to have him any more then just say the word, I’ll make other arrangements.’
‘No way!’ The thought horrified me. ‘I love having him.’
A shadow passed briefly across her face before she turned it into a smile of relief.
‘That’s a nice thing to hear, you are a kind girl.’ She squeezed my fingers, slid her hand from mine and picked up another biscuit. ‘Now that’s enough about me, I want to hear what you’ve been up to. You look thinner.’
‘And you look plumper,’ I replied, watching the biscuit descend into Ethel’s tea. ‘I can’t think why.’
‘I’m ninety-four,’ she said briskly. ‘If I want to stuff my face I shall. You should see some of the old dears in there.’ She jerked her head towards the day room. I bit back a laugh, wondering how many of the residents were older than Ethel. ‘Like skeletons, they are. I eat like a horse these days. The dinners might be a bit on the mushy side but it beats having to cook for yourself.’ Her smile faded. ‘Cooking for one gets a bit boring.’
‘It does.’ I nodded as my chest tightened with recognition.
Freddie and I had shared the cooking; either chatting over our day together in the kitchen or taking it in turns when one of us was going to be late in. And there had always been a dish of something leftover in the fridge or extra portions stuck in the freezer. Recently, I’d become over-reliant on ready meals or something to simply fill me up like cheese on toast. It wasn’t good enough, I thought. It was time to take myself in hand.
‘Fearne.’ Ethel’s voice was hesitant. ‘I wouldn’t be surprised if The Beeches was the last stop on my life’s journey.’
‘Rubbish,’ I protested. ‘A few more weeks to gather your strength and you’ll be back in Pineapple Road.’
‘And if it is, I won’t be sorry,’ she continued. ‘And I don’t want you to be sad either. I’ve no regrets, there’s nothing left on my to-do list. Really there isn’t.’
I felt my eyes grow hot with the effort of holding back tears. ‘I’m glad. And you are an inspiration. There’s plenty left on my to-do list.’
‘Good!’ Ethel cried, waking Scamp up from his nap. ‘That’s as it should be! I’ve been waiting for this. So go on, tell me, what adventures does the future hold?’
‘Not sure yet.’ I pulled a face. ‘I spent most of last night asking myself the same question.’
‘Oh, my dear.’ She nodded wisely. ‘I knew there was something on your mind. Come on, spit it out.’
I don’t know who was more surprised, her or me when I did just that. She sat as quiet as a mouse while I told her about the fiasco at the spa, and then about my boss’s ultimatum. She gasped in surprise when I told her Hamish and Laura were now an item and how hard that was to deal with. And finally I shared the unexpected pearls of wisdom I’d found in Freddie’s letter to me and how much his words had affected me.
‘The things Freddie wrote,’ I began, ‘it made me realise something. He set out at twenty-two to focus on doing the things he loved and he succeeded. Freddie’s life might have been short, but he loved every second of it. I don’t think if he had his time again, that he’d do anything different.’
Ethel smiled softly. ‘And there’s comfort to be had from that, dear.’
‘I am comforted. But …’ I groaned. ‘I still can’t accept his death. I can’t move on. The crystal healing lady was right. I’ve forgotten how to be happy. Now I’m moody and antisocial, I pushed my boyfriend away and I’m even in danger of losing my best friend. I used to be such a happy, sunny person. Good at my job. And I was actually nice to people. But that Fearne has gone.’
‘You are still all of those things,’ Ethel said, brushing biscuit crumbs from the front of her dress. ‘And that’s the most you’ve ever said to me about your grief, take heart from that small step. I saw the spark in your eyes dim when you lost your brother. In my long life, it has happened to me many a time when I’ve lost people I’ve loved. But the good news is that the spark doesn’t go forever. And grief isn’t a bad thing.’
I looked at her surprised. ‘Isn’t it?’
‘Oh no, not at all,’ she exclaimed, her voice as warm as sunshine. ‘Grief is … well, it’s just love with nowhere to go.’
Love with nowhere to go.
I nodded slowly, taking in her words. ‘That’s a wonderful way of putting it.’
‘Grief never truly leaves you, it changes you. And at the moment I think you are stuck in a rut. Find that love somewhere to go: put it into new places, new adventures and let new people into your life and into your heart.’
Freddie had asked me in his letter to promise that I’d choose happiness over habit. He’d be all in favour of Ethel’s advice.
‘But what do I do?’ I murmured. ‘Where do I sta
rt?’
Ethel thought for a moment and then her face lit up. ‘You said he made a list of things which made him happy, why don’t you do the same?’
I smiled at her. ‘Why not? I’m partial to a list. Let’s start now.’
There was a tiny notebook and matching pen in my bag and I pulled it out and turned to a clean page. I jotted down a title, underlined it and wrote a number one in the margin.
Ethel chuckled at my enthusiasm. ‘So what’ll be top of the list?’
I was still contemplating that when one of the care assistants approached the reception desk, handed Thomas a big bunch of flowers and walked back down the corridor, waving as she passed us.
‘Great.’ Thomas said, rolling his eyes good-naturedly at us. ‘I’ll just add flower arranger to my job description, shall I?’
‘Gift from an admirer?’ Ethel asked.
‘Don’t joke,’ Thomas replied archly, ‘I’ve had plenty of those since working here. No, these were given to one of the residents, Cynthia, but they’re making her sneeze. I’ve been told to display them on reception instead.’
‘A right Lady Muck, that one,’ Ethel whispered to me as he rummaged under the desk and reappeared with a vase. ‘Thinks she’s staying at The Ritz.’
We watched as Thomas peeled off the cellophane and dumped the stems unceremoniously into the vase where they all flopped to one side; he hadn’t even added water.
‘Voila.’ He cocked his head, studying his efforts. ‘That’ll have to do for now.’
The bouquet must have cost a fortune; I couldn’t leave it like that.
‘Allow me to help,’ I said, setting aside my list and getting to my feet.
‘Be my guest,’ said Thomas, gesturing to the vase with a flourish of his hands.
He directed me to a sink where I washed the vase thoroughly. Granny’s instructions came back to me down through the decades as always: these flowers have come a long way, give them a fresh, clean start and they’ll repay you for your kindness.
Back on the reception desk, I surveyed the contents of the bouquet. Large-headed white roses, pale pink ranunculus, silvery foliage, the big blue thistles … it would create a wonderful display to greet visitors.
I separated the stems into groups. ‘Ruskus, eucalyptus, eryngium—’
‘Sounds like you’re chanting a spell,’ said Thomas, glancing up from his computer.
I laughed. ‘And the magic has only just begun.’
Ethel looked on proudly from her armchair. ‘She’s a marvel with flowers. I just bash the ends with a rolling pin and hope for the best, but Fearne’s an artist.’
I batted their compliments away. ‘I can’t do anything fancy but my granny was a florist, she taught me a few basics when I was a little girl and I’ve used them ever since.’
I quickly stripped away the excess leaves, snipped stems to the right length and began with the foliage. The largest blooms went in next, followed by the smaller flowers to fill the gaps. Then, I turned the vase around, checking for anything which needed tweaking. Finally, I stood back to look at the arrangement from a distance.
‘That’ll have to do,’ I said.
It was nothing elaborate; I’d have loved to be able to do those big hand-tied bouquets I’d seen at posh florists with spiralled stems which you could simply take home and pop straight into water. Or big modern arrangements with single exotic blooms framed by an arch of steel grass. Or even something like the huge displays Granny used to make for her church which at the time were bigger than I was.
‘Beautiful.’ Ethel gave me a round of applause and Scamp wagged his tail to join in.
‘I’ll say,’ said Thomas, whistling through his teeth. He pulled the vase towards him. ‘I might pretend it’s all my own work.’
‘It’s easy, you could do it yourself,’ I said happily. ‘Start with the foliage. That forms a structure to support the stars of the show. Then just pop in the flowers, making sure each one gets room to shine. Simple.’
‘Simple, she says.’ Thomas winked at Ethel.
‘Easy,’ Ethel echoed and they both laughed.
I found myself blushing. ‘You can say so much with flowers.’
‘You already have,’ said Ethel, beckoning me back over to her.
‘What do you mean?’ I moved my notepad from the sofa cushion and sat back down.
‘You’ve got your first thing for your list,’ she motioned towards the pad.
Of course. A spark of joy lit me from within. My list didn’t have to be made up of big adventurous things like Freddie’s was. My list was for me, what made me happy.
‘Number one on my happiness list,’ I said aloud as I picked my pen, ‘is flowers.’
With a jolt I realised that quite inadvertently, thanks to Cynthia’s sneeze, I might just be at the start of something wonderful, something for me, and something which quite possibly could help me look forward to life again.
A life without my big brother.
I brushed away a stray tear and smiled at Ethel.
For the first time since Freddie died I felt a stirring of excitement: there was a light at the end of the tunnel and I was heading towards it.
The next morning, I woke up feeling brighter than I’d done for months. I bounced out of bed and shoved my feet into my slippers. Without moving from his half of the bed, Scamp opened one eye and gave me a solitary thump of his tail as if to say that he was very pleased for me but he wasn’t quite ready to be quite so enthusiastic for a Monday.
But I was. Today felt different. I hadn’t done anything with my list yet, and I only had one thing on it, but it was already working its magic. It was forcing my mind to consider the future instead of constantly dragging me back to the past. And today, as soon as I found the right moment, I was going to ask my boss for a couple of weeks off. I hadn’t had a chance to find anything yet, but my plan was to go and do something ‘flowery’, some sort of flower-arranging workshop. Because flowers, I acknowledged with a little smile, made me happy.
After breakfast and a walk with Scamp, I made it into work early to tidy up some loose ends. I spent a productive thirty minutes on my own until my boss arrived.
‘Morning, Fearne.’ Bernie perched his plump bottom on my desk and helped himself to one of my mint toffees.
‘Hi, Bernie.’
The toffees served two purposes: they reminded me of my granny who always kept a few in the pocket of her body warmer which she always wore on market days; plus, they had a tremendous capacity of shutting people up when they outstayed their welcome in my tiny corner of the open-plan office.
‘Have you had a chance to think about what we spoke about on Saturday?’ He picked up a printed graph from my desk, scanned an eye over it and put it back down.
This was it; a thousand butterflies began to flap their wings in my stomach.
‘I did,’ I said taking a deep breath. ‘And you were right. I can’t carry on as I am. So—’
‘Excellent! I knew you’d come round! I’ve booked the boardroom and ordered in sandwiches.’ Bernie’s eager face said it all; if ever there was anyone who loved his job more, I’d yet to meet them. He unwrapped the toffee and threw it up into his mouth as if he was catching popcorn. ‘And you’ll be great, you know, it’s like riding a bike.’
I had to bite my lip; we’d be back to his ‘back in the saddle’ metaphor in a minute.
‘Actually, with your permission, I was hoping not to come in at all tomorrow. I’d like to take some annual leave. Immediately. I think the time off will do me good, give me a chance to think.’
‘I’m confused.’ Bernie took his glasses off and polished them on his sleeve. His eyes looked tiny without being magnified by the lenses.
‘I don’t want to do the presentation.’ I gave him a look of apology. ‘I’ve already primed Gary.’
He gave a laugh of disbelief. ‘I thought I’d made the company’s position clear.’
I felt the thrum of a pulse in my ears as my mind race
d feverishly ahead.
Choose happiness over habit.
Freddie had been wiser at twenty-two than I was at thirty-four. This job was a habit. It didn’t fill my soul with joy, and I certainly wasn’t happy at the thought of another ten, twenty years chasing promotion.
I’d been planning on simply asking for some time away from the job. But perhaps it was time to move on from here completely. There was a whole world out there if only I was brave enough to discover it.
But was I brave enough? My chest tightened. Was I over thinking this happy list, was I being too literal with Freddie’s advice? I hadn’t thought it through at all and yet here I was, on the verge of quitting my job. My livelihood.
A memory flashed up of Freddie and me charging into the estate agent’s office and making an offer for our house on Pineapple Road. And it turned out to have been one of the best decisions we’d ever made. I could almost hear Freddie’s voice cheering me on: Go big or go home!
‘Bernie, you’re right, you did.’ I stood up, my heart pounding with the enormity of what I was about to do. I held out my hand to shake his. ‘Please accept my resignation with immediate effect.’
‘Whoah, now hold on a minute.’ Bernie blinked. He looked like a disorientated little mole who had popped his head up from underground into bright light.
I shook my head firmly.
‘There’s something I need to do. For my brother, but most of all, for me.’
Chapter Six
I pulled up outside a pretty white cottage with a thatched roof and a plethora of tubs brimming with tulips lining the garden path. The wisteria winding its way up the walls wasn’t in bloom yet, but even without it, the cottage had a fairy-tale feel to it and I felt my shoulders relax.
I read the wooden sign fixed to the wall aloud. ‘Wisteria Cottage Flower School; I’ve made it.’
It was late March and spring was in full swing. Two weeks had passed since I’d resigned from Zed Market Trends and several major things had happened in that time. Not least the fact that I’d followed my heart and decided to immerse myself in the world of flowers for a whole week, starting today.
My Kind of Happy - Part One: A New Leaf Page 5
