by Rachel Dove
***
Valentine’s Day was around the corner, and Lily had had a hectic week. The shop looked gorgeous, the window display was a fantastic extravaganza of hearts and flowers, and a chocolate shop in Harrogate had supplied her with some gift boxes, which sold like hot cakes and made the whole building smell beautiful.
Cupid’s visit fell on a Saturday this year, the best day of the week for the cherub with arrows to arrive on.
Couples everywhere would be going away for the weekend, out for meals, or enjoying cosy nights in.
Roger had been a godsend, and a whirlwind. The online orders had gone crazy, and Lily had opted to do the deliveries all week, keeping her busy and away from the chance of bumping into her parents, who were trying to kill her with the guilt of their silence, and Stuart, who was acting strange. Will had texted her a few times since they last met, and they talked about work, their plans for the evening. It was the best part of her day seeing him, talking to him. Even a text from him made her stomach flip and her heart flutter. Roger, however, was not biting today.
‘It’s Friday, you are exhausted, and to be honest I could use the break. A nice change of scene, tunes on the radio – that will do me fine.’ He winked at her. ‘I need to pick up a little something for James, and you will have your own visitor too.’ She stuck her tongue out at him as he went through the clipboard of orders once more. She knew who he meant. Friday meant Will, and his usual flower pickup.
For the last few days, Will and she had fallen into a pattern, texting, him dropping in to the flat to help her move in, coffee breaks in his jeep when he drove through the village at lunch. It was easy, and Lily found herself looking for his jeep out of the window sometimes when she was working, thinking back to his easy, quiet ways, how he seemed at home in the flat.
A flat Stuart had never even seen. He had been unusually attentive, and Lily wondered why. Did he know about her new friend? Westfield was a small place; people talked. She hadn’t so much as mentioned Will to him, and the longer it went on, the harder it became.
She had lunch with Stuart occasionally but that was it. She caught him looking at her strangely, sometimes, as though he was trying to work out a puzzle, and that wasn’t Stuart. There was nothing to tell about her and Will, so why couldn’t she find the words?
He hadn’t mentioned the lack of calls from her, and she wondered if he had noticed the difference in her, or whether it was just her lack of attention to him. When she thought of their relationship, she had been suddenly aware of how one-sided it was. Take a chance, for once in your life.
***
‘Roger,’ Lily asked, looking across at him, ‘what do you really think of Stuart?’ She looked concerned, and Roger’s heart sank. He had noticed the change in her, and he was pretty sure that her flash fiancé wasn’t the cause. In fact, she had hardly mentioned him at all. She still had the ring on though, and her heart was still at risk of being broken. He took a deep breath. Tact and diplomacy wasn’t what he was known for – James would be the first to tell him that – but he loved the bones of this girl.
‘I think …’ he said, staring at the clipboard to buy more time. ‘I think he’s okay.’
‘That’s it? Only okay? What do you think of us together?’
Roger blanched. He wouldn’t tell her he loathed the guy, and thought she could do better. He couldn’t be sure why, but he had never got a good read on Stuart. He always came across as a little insincere, slimy even.
‘More importantly, what do you think of you two together?’ he countered, deflecting like a shrink.
Lily sat down on her stool. ‘I don’t know any more, I really don’t. Rog, he doesn’t even know I moved out.’
Roger frowned. ‘You have been out of your parents’ almost a fortnight. Hasn’t he seen your folks?’
‘Nope.’ She started to doodle on the pad in front of her. ‘He always rings the shop or my mobile, and he only ever came to my parents’ house for Sunday dinner anyway.’
Roger nodded. ‘Maybe that needs to change, have you even spoken to your parents?’
Lily shrugged. ‘Mum no, but Dad has been ringing. She keeps baking a lot apparently, and disappearing off for hours on end. Dad’s quite worried about her but they’re still not talking. He’s coming down later with the rest of my stuff. I think he wants to see the flat really. He doesn’t know about Will, either.’
Roger feigned looking shocked, casting a pose like the Scream painting.
‘What! You mean your father doesn’t know?’
‘Know what?’
They both screamed at the sudden interruption. Will jumped a foot in the air at their greeting.
‘Arrgghh! What, what?’ He darted from side to side as though a ninja attack was imminent. Roger and Lily both collapsed into fits of giggles.
***
Lily ran over to Will, putting her arms around him before she thought twice.
‘Sorry! We didn’t hear you come in.’
Will put his arms around her, giving her a squeeze. She caught a whiff of his scent and felt her body both relax and tingle at the familiarity of his closeness. He pulled back, smiling at her.
‘Well, it’s safe to say I am awake now,’ he murmured, looking down at her. ‘That was a nice greeting, aside from the screams.’ Lily felt like she was going to combust in his arms, and she moved away, busying herself with starting his order.
‘So.’ Roger turned to Will. ‘Big plans this weekend?’ Will looked at him blankly.
‘Plans?’
Lily kept her eyes and hands busy, layering some gorgeous pastel tissue paper onto some cellophane. She had some cellophane new in, printed with pretty white hearts, but she had selected the plain, pushing the heart roll to one side. She told herself it was to save it for the bigger orders, but she knew that wasn’t quite the case.
‘Yes,’ Roger continued. ‘The weekend! You ordering your usual, or going for the rather overdone dozen red?’
Will flicked his eyes to Lily, who had paused her work to see what his answer was. He looked at the ceiling, as though he had just noticed the heart decorations hanging from crepe ribbons. When he looked at Lily again, his expression was closed off. He didn’t look like him. She got a flashback to the night at the club, his anger towards Ryan, his tense expression. Just what was the deal with him and Kim?
‘I don’t really have plans this weekend. In fact, thinking about it, I don’t need my order. I’m sorry.’ He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. He pulled a twenty from his wallet. ‘For your trouble,’ he added, putting it onto the counter. Lily was about to say something, but he had already gone. Roger looked green.
‘Sorry, Lily, I was just joking,’ he mumbled apologetically. She waved him away as she ran out of the shop after Will. The street was near empty, and she spied him just getting into his jeep. She ran across the road, tapping on the glass as she walked to the driver’s side. Will looked annoyed, winding the window down for her.
‘What’s wrong? I am in a bit of a rush.’
Lily flinched at his gruff manner. ‘What’s wrong? I was going to ask you the same thing. What’s going on? Are you and Kim not getting on?’
Will laughed then, a bitter, cold laugh. ‘You know nothing about Kim and I, and I don’t want to talk about it, okay?’ He started to wind the window up again, ramming the keys into the ignition. Lily went to bang on the window again, but she stopped herself. If he was going to be like this, what could she do? Will didn’t look back, driving off like the angry idiot he seemed to be today.
Roger looked at her through the window, an expression of disbelief mirroring her own. She was just walking back to the shop when her dad pulled up in his car.
He took one look at her and dashed to her side.
‘You all right, love? You look pale. Are you eating?’
Lily smiled at her dad, quickly wiping away a frustrated tear. ‘I’m fine, Dad, don’t worry. We are just busy, that’s
all.’
Irvin nodded. ‘Time of the year, petal. Path of true love doesn’t run too smooth for us florists, does it?’ He nudged her as he laughed at his own joke. Looking back at the jeep that was driving off at speed towards Agatha’s, Lily shook her head. ‘No, Pops, it certainly doesn’t.’
***
Will pulled up at home and turned off the engine. The neighbours were mercifully not out in front this morning, so Will didn’t have to speak to anyone. He just knew that he wasn’t capable of stringing a sentence together. He got out and strode up to his house, not stopping till he was on the inside of the locked door.
His foot knocked against something on the floor and he stooped to pick it up. A parcel wrapped in brown cardboard, addressed to him. He realized what it was and, walking into his living room, he threw it onto the sofa. The room was tidy as usual, the curtains still drawn closed from the night before. He walked to the window, kicking off his boots along the way, but instead of opening the curtains, he cracked the window a little and kept them closed.
The liquor cabinet in the corner practically beckoned him, and he nodded at it as though in reply and poured himself a small whisky. After slinking his coat off his shoulders, he threw it on the couch and picked up the parcel. He never ordered anything online, but on a whim he had looked one night when he was feeling especially confused about Lily. He took a seat in his armchair, rested his drink on one arm of the chair, and peeled open the wrappings.
A book fell out, the same one that Lily was reading that day in the café. He had remembered the author, and looked for one with the matching cover. It was a romance, a tale about a woman who wasn’t happy in her life. He could imagine Lily reading it, in the café, the shop, in her flat late at night. For some reason, he had ordered it and now here it was. He felt like a stalker, as though he had downloaded her diary itself.
Was he really so smitten? He knew that he could deny it to others, but not to himself any more. He felt like he needed to understand her, to know every little thought and feeling she had. He took a large swig of his drink, waiting for the dark alcohol to zip through his bloodstream, and cracking the spine open, he began to read. As the story unfolded before him, he found himself hoping that somewhere else in the village, the girl who had captured his heart was reading the same story of love, thinking of him.
***
When Dad and Roger had both gone, Lily shut up shop. It had been manic and she hadn’t even minded when she caught Dad throwing himself into some orders. She and Roger both pretended not to notice and cracked on. Her dad wasn’t himself, and Lily knew he felt glad to have something to do, a distraction. She had to say, she was rather glad of it herself. Roger had hugged her goodbye, nodding to a couple of large gift bags he had brought with him.
‘Those are for you, little flat-warming pressie.’ He winked, and went off home.
Bringing down the metal shutters on the night, she flicked off the lights, grabbing the bags on the way past. Climbing the spiral staircase, she frowned at the stark metal balcony. She needed to sort this out, on her next day off. The yard area below was just as bad, the wreckage of the busy day all around. The gate at the bottom that led to the street beyond the back of Foxley Street was a deep black, several layers of paint holding together the old wood. It needed a spring-clean and a spruce-up, and Lily made a mental note to make more time.
She locked the flat door behind her, looking around at her boxes of possessions. Her dad had pretty much cleared out her room, but she wasn’t in a hurry to unpack any of it. Old clothes and high school reports weren’t exactly a priority. She pushed them into a stack on one wall, and then flicked on the radio. She needed to get the television guy around to hook up her channels, but she found she wasn’t in a rush just yet. The silence was nice. Her mother always hated her playing music, leaving her to listen to it with headphones on like a skulking teenager.
She grinned to herself as she twiddled the volume button up. In the bags from Roger were two bottles of wine, some gorgeous stemmed glasses, candles, bubble bath, a facemask, a box of ridiculously sumptuous Belgian chocolates, and a card. Inside, James had hand drawn a woman who looked a lot like her, sat smiling from a balcony full of flowers, at the top of the flat. It was beautiful, all coloured in with watercolours, and she found herself welling up. Inside, in Roger’s hand, was a curly-handed message.
To Lily, this is your first step. Make them all count, and stop to smell the flowers.
Roger, James, and Bruno
The words from the first day she met Will properly sprang to mind. Take a chance, for once in your life. Was that what this was: taking a chance? She had her own business, her own van, and now her own place, but she was still hiding. Stuart knew something was wrong, but she still hadn’t spoken to him. Her parents were at each other’s throats, and her mother was not even speaking to her. For a woman heading towards her thirtieth birthday, she wasn’t doing the best job of being an independent woman. She was still little Lily Baxter, playing with the flowers under her parents’ watchful gaze.
She opened the flat door and sat on the balcony, taking a big gulp of wine straight from one of the screw-top bottles and then filling one of the glasses. Thinking of Will had brought back the uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach. He had been so cold, so nasty. It tallied with the guy he was in the club, all anger and fists flying, but she couldn’t believe for a second that this was the real him. Whatever it was with him and Kim, she realized it wasn’t good.
Nor was it her business. She had a fiancé of her own, after all. A fiancé she actually needed to have an awkward conversation of her own with, as it went. Lily had been glad when Stuart had told her he had to work on Valentine’s, but she knew that she needed to talk to him, and soon, before the gossip of Westfield caught up to his ears. Men often gossiped more than the women in the village, and it wouldn’t be long before one of the paisley gang spilled the beans on her moving out of her parents’. And maybe about the curly-haired Viking-sized man she had been spending time with.
She drained her glass, and then headed inside to pour another to take into the bath. She just needed to stay away from Will; it was obvious. He was mad at her anyway. If he came back, it would be as a customer, just like the others. No harm done. Two seconds later, her phone buzzed on the counter where she had left it that afternoon in a huff. She cursed herself as he grabbed for it, slopping wine onto the floor as she went. Will? Looking at the display, her heart sank.
‘Hello, Mrs Ness?’
The woman at the end of the phone was one of her best customers, and a great family friend. ‘Hello, dear, sorry to call late. I just wondered, I remember seeing a flyer in your shop about a gardener?’
Lily nodded, before remembering to answer. ‘Er yes, Mrs Ness, W – er Mr Singer, he’s a customer.’
‘Ah!’ the voice exclaimed. ‘That’s it! I just wondered, do you have his number, off hand? Mr Ness and I are thinking about hiring someone to help with the gardening. We are not as spry as we used to be, and the Westfield in Bloom squad will be out soon, checking the gardens.’
Lily resisted the urge to laugh. Westfield in Bloom was an initiative set up by Agatha Mayweather, unofficial matriarch of the village. Everyone worked together to get their gardens and public areas beautiful and flowering for the visitors that came in the summer to escape the winter, and it had grown year on year. With the community centre recently being saved from closure by the council, Mrs Mayweather was hoping to gain press attention this year, even declaring prizes would be given for the best gardens. Everyone loved Agatha, but they also dare not cross her. Once she had the bit between her teeth, you either hung on for the ride or got out of the way and let her get on with it.
‘No problem, Mrs Ness, it’s in the shop. Shall I ring you tomorrow with it?’
She didn’t want to say it was actually stored into the phone she was speaking on, and she didn’t dwell on the little white lie.
‘That’s okay, lov
e. I wonder, could you ask him to come to the house on Sunday, about 1 o’clock? And please, come with him, Lily. It would be lovely to see you, and you know how Hugo gets around strangers. Be best if you came together.’
Lily groaned inwardly. How the hell was she going to swing that? ‘Er, I don’t think …’
‘Lily darling, I have some jam on the go, and I don’t want to burn the sugar. I’ll see you both on Sunday.’ Lily tried to protest again, but she heard the click of the phone being put down at the other end.
She stared at the phone in disbelief, swigging down the rest of her glass.
‘Bollocks,’ she said to the radio.
***
Saturday morning, and Irvin was woken by a cacophony of noise from downstairs.
‘What the bloody hell!’ he shouted, jumping out of bed and slamming his toe on the dresser.
‘Argghh!’ He cursed, swinging around and banging his shin on the bedside table.
‘Goddamn it! Lizzie, what the hell is that noise?’ It sounded like there was a street festival going on downstairs. ‘Shut that racket up!’
The noise continued, and Irvin grabbed his robe, walking downstairs like an extra from The Walking Dead. The noise was coming from the kitchen, and Irvin stood in the doorway, wide-eyed in shock. Lizzie was having some kind of fit. She was jerking and moving around the kitchen, a bun tray in each gloved hand. It looked like she was in pain, like she was being shocked by something.
Irvin wondered whether it was triggered by the garish colour of her clothes. All she needed to complete the look was a hat made of fruit, and Irvin looked around in panic for the fruit bowl he had bought her for their wedding anniversary last year. It was still there luckily, piled with kiwis and other exotic fruits. Irvin frowned again. Lizzie normally only bought apples and oranges. The odd bunch of bananas now and then were considered a treat. What the hell was going on? Who was this Carmen Miranda lookalike, and what had she done with his wife?
