The Flower Shop on Foxley Street

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The Flower Shop on Foxley Street Page 16

by Rachel Dove


  ‘Hello, class!’ She clapped her hands together, making the various metal bangles she was wearing clang together. She was a slight woman, tiny even, but she seemed to fill the room with her presence. Irvin found himself smiling at her, and as he glanced around, it seemed he wasn’t the only one affected. She seemed to put people at ease. You can do this, Irvin, come on.

  ‘Hi,’ she said stepping forward with a jingle. ‘I’m Sam Webster. I am the Spanish teacher. Shall we begin?’ Irvin nodded. Bloody hell.

  ***

  Will flicked at his ear, feeling something whizz past him. He was crouched on his knees, digging out a weed with his trowel. The flower garden was beautiful, but it took a lot of work, and Will knew it took a toll.

  Archie was very particular indeed about who went within sneezing distance of his prized blooms, but Lily had immediately wrapped him around her little finger. Archie had even smiled at her, and Will looked her in awe. He had never smiled at anyone like that before in his presence, and to be honest, he was shocked that the man had teeth. The plan was for Will to show her around the estate, and then take her back while he got to work, but the second they got there, Lily had rolled up her sleeves. Will had been surprised, and not about to deter her either.

  The thought of spending a day with her up here, away from prying eyes, sounded like a dream come true. He had thought that Archie might not have approved, but he never said a word. One bat of Lily’s green eyes, and he had been like putty in her hands anyway. The flower garden needed getting ready for the spring, and when Lily offered their services, Archie had given his blessing. He had even left them to it, mumbling something about vegetables to tend, and then they were alone. Anyone else in his precious garden would have brought him running with his shotgun.

  Lily had laughed the whole way there at his hat, which he had trapped in the top of the jeep window, trying to dry it out. He had pouted and pretended to be very cross, but really her laughter was like a balm to him. He never understood people saying they wanted to bottle noises before, but now, given the choice, he would listen to her laughing for ever. It was the best music for a spoiled heart like his.

  The wind had picked up a little now, and his hatless ears were starting to feel the cold. Looking at his watch, he saw it was almost lunchtime. They had been working for hours, happy in the comfortable silence. If this were a date, it would be one of the best he had ever been on. Not many people got to say that whilst knee-deep in worms and weeds, but there it was.

  He turned to look at Lily, thinking of food, when he saw her hand flick out. A piece of twig hit him in the nose. He saw her hand dart back to the flower bed, her loose bun of blonde hair ruffled by the wind. He scrunched his eyes up at her. Did she just throw something at him? He turned back, pretending to weed, and felt it again, this time in his hair. She was. She was throwing stuff at him! Digging another weed out, he sighed theatrically, stretching his arms out wide. He turned to her, and she flicked back again to her work, caught out. He laughed under his breath.

  Touching his hand to his hair gently, he touched what felt like half a tree on his head. She had been doing it a while, obviously. Checking that she wasn’t looking, he shook to get rid of it as best he could and started digging the ground in front of him. Two can play at that game.

  ‘Lily, I’m getting hungry. Shall we go get some lunch?’

  Lily, to her credit, had a great poker face. She turned to him acting normal, but her face fell a little when she realized that some of her efforts had come loose. She soon recovered, giving him a cheeky grin.

  ‘I am hungry. Shall we go to the café?’

  Will shrugged.

  ‘Yeah sure.’

  He figured she would want to check in at the florist’s anyway, but the thought of returning to reality hit him like a blow to the chest.

  He moved in close behind her as she tidied up the bed in front of her, and when she turned, he pulled her to her feet, turning away before she could look him in the eye.

  ***

  Lily frowned. The last few hours had been perfect. They hadn’t even spoken really, the odd word or contented sigh here and there, but she had had the best time. Being up here away from everything, with him, had been amazing. She had even found herself daydreaming about life with him, if they were together. No Kim, no Stuart. Every time she thought things were going to come to a head, that they would talk, he pulled back. It was exhausting, trying to be honourable to Stuart, follow her heart, be true to the new life she was pursuing. It was driving her mad.

  It didn’t take a genius to tell her that her relationship wasn’t right, but today had been the decider. She could never imagine doing this with Stuart. He would have moaned about the dirt, the cold. He would have thrown a paddy, gone to look for bars on his phone to check the latest sports fixtures, or cried off to work.

  Thinking about her and Will together – that was a world apart. She could see herself waking up with him, drinking coffee on her tiny terrace, reading the papers, saying nothing but enjoying just being together. Garden centres on Sundays, walks in the park. Things that other people seemed to do, but she never had. She pushed the thoughts away – it was too complicated to even dwell on. They were not single, and they were friends. She wasn’t about to risk that, not yet anyway.

  They walked up to Archie’s cottage, meeting him halfway.

  ‘Well, don’t you two look a picture!’ he said, giving Will an odd look. Lily blushed, not daring to look at Will in case he ‘twigged’ what she had been up to.

  ‘We’re off to the café. Do you want something bringing back, Archie?’ Lily asked him, and he shook his head, pointing at Agatha’s.

  ‘Not today, love – we have been summoned for lunch at the big house.’ He rolled his eyes.

  It was then Lily noticed he had changed his clothes, and looked like he had run a comb through his hair too.

  ‘At Agatha’s?’ Will said, and Lily saw a look pass between them. Archie shook his head, barely enough for Lily to notice, and she looked at Will questioningly.

  ‘Everything okay?’ she asked him, but he kept his eyes on Archie.

  ‘I don’t know yet,’ Will said softly, a hint of worry in his voice. ‘Come on, Lily – let’s wash up. I’ll show you where.’

  Archie looked again at Will, tapping him on the shoulder affectionately as he passed him.

  ‘Okay, lad, don’t worry. I will meet you there.’

  He walked off down the path, and Will tucked her into his arm slightly as he walked her to the door. She loved how she fit into his nook. It felt so natural now. Opening the cottage door, he ushered her through. She found herself standing in a neat little hallway, lighter and more feminine than she expected it to be. She had a feeling Agatha had probably had a say in the decorating.

  When she thought of the type of home Archie suited, she imagined something far more rustic, deer head on the wall. Will was standing close to her, pushing against her slightly as he closed the front door. She noticed a collection of photographs on the wall, all in various cream and gilt frames. A young Archie smiled out from a photo with what looked like his parents. She looked at the pictures in the frames, till her gaze fell onto a small one near the centre. It was a young Will. His dark eyes and curls were unmistakable.

  ‘Is this you?’ she asked, running her fingertip down the glass. ‘You were so cute.’

  ‘Were?’ a voice said close behind her. The hairs stood up on the back of her neck at the closeness of him. ‘Only were?’

  ‘Well,’ she murmured, trying to keep her breathing even. ‘You’re not so bad now.’

  They both struggled to take their boots off in the small space, and Will grabbed for her as she stumbled on one foot. She could feel the strength of his arms under his clothing, and she drew in a breath. That didn’t help either, as all she did was drink in a big gulp of him. He smelt of his aftershave, and the outdoors, and flowers. The mixture was like a drug, and she righted herself clu
msily, detaching herself from his arms. Looking at him, she wondered if he felt it too. He looked distracted, and she could hear his breathing, heavier, laboured even.

  He pointed to the stairs, which were just behind them, further down the narrow hall.

  ‘Bathroom is first on the left. If you wash up I will clean our boots off a bit.’

  She nodded and he finally dropped his eyes to look at her. She looked back at him, and she knew that she wanted to kiss him. It was getting harder to be around this man. The lines were blurring. As much as she kept trying to draw them in the sand, the tide kept coming in.

  Take a chance, for once in your life.

  She was just getting the nerve to raise herself up to her tiptoes, when he spoke.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ he said, looking at her intensely. His voice was hoarse, and she hoped that it was because of her, because of how she made him feel. Her own body was humming like a tuning fork. She felt like she was going to explode. He raised his hand slowly towards her face, and she held her breath.

  ‘I just have to …’ He moved closer, and she raised herself on her toes, just a fraction of a centimetre to meet him. This is it, if he kisses me, I will know. I will know what to do. Take a chance …

  He moved his hand up to her face, closer. His fingers brushed her cheek as he moved, and …

  He reached up to her hair, and pulled a large worm out from where it had been nestling in her bun. Lily squeaked, looking at him in disbelief.

  He winced, looking sheepish.

  ‘I put it in your hair earlier, to get you back for the twigs.’

  Lily’s libido dropped through the floor fast, a bucket of ice water being thrown over her cosy romantic moment. She looked at him in shock, a vacant expression on her stunned face.

  ‘Touché,’ she managed, trying to recover. Her jaw felt like it was made of floppy rubber, the word coming out like ‘toool’. She slithered past him, pointing to the stairs.

  ‘I’ll just go … er …’

  ‘Er … yeah … I’ll go clean these.’

  Lily walked to the bathroom on jelly legs. She closed the door behind her, running the taps as she gripped the sink.

  Well, that was that then. She was picturing Romeo and Juliet and he had been trying to pull a worm out of her hair. Awesome.

  ***

  Downstairs, Will was in the boot room, scrubbing the mud from Lily’s pink floral wellingtons. Before he remembered that he had planted a worm in her hair, before Archie had distracted them with the threat of lunch with Agatha, a woman who missed nothing in the village and could let slip about parts of his life that he did not want Lily to know about, he thought they’d had a moment. He had felt it, could feel her hands around his arms when he reached out to steady her. He’d felt the jolt, the same jolt he had felt reverberate through his body in the club. She felt like she belonged with him, and he wanted nothing better than to tell her so. When he was close to her, like that, he felt her acutely.

  Being around her was like the warmth from a fire, after a long day in the cold. She soothed him. He wiped the mud off her boots, cursing himself for pulling the prank. He could have made a move, and boy did he want to. The thought of kissing Lily drove him crazy. He had never felt like this about Kim. Thinking of his wife brought the usual guilt back, the knot in his stomach tightening further. Perhaps it was for the best anyway. Maybe that worm had saved him from doing something he couldn’t take back.

  He dried off the pink wellingtons, smiling as he thought of her wearing them. That girl is something else, he thought to himself. Now he just had to live through lunch with Agatha, and hope that she didn’t let anything slip. The only thing that terrified him more than never being with Lily, was the thought of someone hurting her. As long as he was in her life, he would protect her any way he could.

  ***

  Later that night, tired but happy, Lily got into her van and drove across to her parents’ house. She had had the most perfect day. Lunch with Agatha had been amazing. She was a woman Lily saw a lot of her mother in, and she hoped that the new lease of life she was striving for was changing her into someone like that too. Will had been distant since the cottage, and Lily wondered why. Did he feel what she had felt, or was he embarrassed? Did he sense she was about to make a pass?

  He seemed so tense, and Lily had almost made her excuses to leave, but then Will seemed to relax once they all got chatting. Archie came for lunch too, and was soon telling them stories of Will as a boy. She wondered how they had never crossed paths before, in the small village, but with him growing up in Harrogate, he was something of a stranger to the lifers here. Maybe that was half the problem, aside from the girlfriend. Will had been out there and actually done things, unlike her.

  Lily sighed and tried to shake herself out of her dull mood. Despite the awkward moments, she had really enjoyed being with him.

  Hearing about him as a boy was hilarious. She had worried that Agatha or Archie would mention the fountain incident, but thankfully they said nothing. The topic of her parents was skilfully avoided too, another welcome relief.

  Now, pulling up outside her parents’ house, all good feelings of fuzziness and missed kisses were gone. Next to her parents’ cars, in between in fact playing referee, was Stuart’s car. Lily slammed on the brakes.

  ‘What the hell!’ She banged on the steering wheel. This was not the definition of giving her space. This was an ambush. She wondered if her father had been in on it, being the reason she was here, Spanish books in hand.

  She had dressed nice, wanting to show her parents she was okay, doing fine on her own. She had her new brown leather boots on, thick wool tights, and a pretty patterned dress. She had wrapped herself up in a long purple coat, and curled her long blonde hair so it hung loosely around her shoulders. She wanted them to see her differently, away from the usual dark clothing she normally sported. She parked the van on the street, partly in case she needed to make a quick getaway and, taking a breath, she walked to the door and knocked firmly.

  She could hear the low rumble of voices, and her mother opened the door, tea towel in hand.

  She looked her up and down, appearing surprised.

  ‘Lily! What on earth are you doing knocking?’

  ‘What’s Stuart doing here?’ she countered.

  Lizzie pursed her lips. ‘I invited him. You two need to talk by the sounds of it. Your father told me you were coming, so I thought we could all eat together, catch up. I am cooking, of course.’ She reached for her, and Lily half expected a hug, but her mother grabbed her instead, pulling her over the front step and into the warmth of the hallway before she could even try to protest. Her dad was stood there, looking sheepish, and she pulled a face at him. Her mother completely ignored him, walking off to the kitchen.

  ‘I brought the books you wanted, traitor.’ She held out the book bag and her dad took it, pulling her into a hug. Lily smiled, rubbing his back.

  ‘Don’t hate me, love. Stuart phoned, asking for help. He’s worried about you, pet, and so am I. Why didn’t you tell him you moved out?’

  Lily sighed into her dad’s shoulder. ‘Dad, I will tell you later, but I can’t talk now.’ She kept her voice low, whispering so that neither Stuart nor her bat-eared mother could hear.

  She felt her dad nod, and then she noticed Stuart, standing in the doorway to the living room, looking at her like he was presenting the BAFTAs. He was dressed in a smart suit she hadn’t seen before, his blonde hair washed and freshly cut.

  ‘Hi, Lily,’ he said, giving her one of his suave grins. She stared back at him, releasing her father with one last squeeze. Her dad nodded to Stuart, and disappeared upstairs. Lily could hear him opening the door to his den. Hmm, she thought to herself. A traitor and a coward. She almost wished he could hide up there with him, but her mother would only drag her out kicking and screaming.

  Lily looked up the stairs as she walked down the hall. Stuart reached for her hand and pulled
her into the living room. The kitchen was unusually noisy. Her mother had the radio on, some Spanish music playing. Very different to her usual Motown. Things sure had changed since she moved out, although from the frosty reception her parents gave each other, some things were still pretty much the same.

  Stuart sat her down on the sofa like a child, sitting down beside her and getting close. He took her hands in his, and bent to kiss her. When she saw his lips coming towards her, pure panic bubbled up in her chest, and she got to her feet abruptly.

  ‘Stuart!’ she babbled, looking quickly at the door to see if her parents were lurking within earshot. ‘Not here, my mum’s already mad at me. Making out on the couch is not really going to help matters.’

  Stuart stood and took her hands into his. ‘Lily, we are engaged, not twelve. I came here to talk to you; your parents are giving us space. I called earlier to speak to your dad, and he told me you were coming.’

  Lily sighed, looking at his hands, which he was rubbing against her palms. She couldn’t help but think of when Will had taken her hand in the club. ‘Stuart, there is something I need to talk to you about.’

  Stuart jumped in. ‘Same here. I talked to my father, and we set a date.’ His face was triumphant.

  ‘A date for your next golf event? That’s amazing!’ Fantastic, Lily thought to herself. He will be leaving; we can have a fresh start. I can …

  ‘No,’ he said, shaking his head and laughing. ‘A date for the wedding!’

  Her mother came into the room, juggling a tea tray. ‘A date for the wedding, can you believe it! I must admit, I was worried about you, acting so strange, but this makes sense now. You are going to live by yourself before the wedding, have a bit of independence before you settle down!’

  She put the tea tray down on the coffee table, grabbing Lily’s cheeks.

  ‘All that talk about me and your father – I don’t know. You could have just told the truth you know!’ She looked behind her, a cross look on her face. ‘Your father is acting strange. He keeps watching telenovelas on the television in the den. I can hear them! He has lost the plot, I tell you.’

 

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