‘But this is amazing!’ I interrupted, pushing my hair back from my face. I pointed at the variety of roses. ‘These roses are amazing quality and look at all the different colours you’re growing.’ I bent over to inspect a dusky pink one. ‘This colour is so popular for weddings at the moment. Cath was telling me the other evening about your flowers, but I never expected there to be so many! Wow! You could supply florists with the volume and variety of roses you’re growing here. They’re beautiful.’
Arthur looked pleased. ‘Really? I just grow them for Cath. I give her a bunch of flowers every Sunday, and then we take some down to the churchyard to place on Anthony’s father’s grave.’
‘Aww, that’s lovely!’ I said. ‘Honestly, florists pay a small fortune to get flowers like this shipped over. I would love to use flowers grown in the UK. And think of all the good you’re doing for the bees. They must love it here.’
‘They certainly do. They’re always buzzing about. Especially the foxgloves. The poppies come up well around here too.’
‘Poppies! So many people ask for poppies and they’re so difficult to get hold of because they’re difficult to import. Oh, my goodness! This is like a dream come true. Anthony said you grew flowers and we might be able to use them for the weddings, but I had no idea you had so many beautiful roses. This is perfect.’ I gazed in awe at all the flowers that were growing. ‘Would you be able to grow more?’
‘I should think so. The peonies did well last year too, so hopefully we’ll have some of them soon.’
‘Oh, my goodness! And you wouldn’t mind me using them? For floristry displays?’
‘Of course not. Just as long as you leave me a few for Cath, that’s fine by me. What do I want with flowers like that? I’m quite happy with my vegetables.’
I laughed. Arthur was adorable and I could see why Cath had fallen for him, even if she was the lady of the house and he was the gardener. I wondered how their relationship had developed over the years. It was all rather Lady Chatterley.
We chatted some more about the flowers and the garden, and he suggested we turn a patch of land near the Brew House into a wildflower garden too. I felt excitement stir, and I couldn’t wait to tell Bobbi about it. She’d often talked about flower farming in the past and had a tutor at college who went on and on about the advantages of using British flowers, so I knew she’d be interested. It would be hard work, of course, but the possibilities seemed endless. I couldn’t believe things were coming together so beautifully.
A blackbird sang loudly from the garden wall and another one answered it in the tree above. The leaves whispered in the wind and a crow cawed. It sounded like heaven.
‘Shall we go in and say hello to everyone in the house?’ Anthony said. ‘Are you coming in now, Arthur?’
‘In a minute. Just need to finish watering these last few potatoes and the beans. Tell your mother to put the kettle on.’
‘Will do.’
Cath and Liz were sitting at the kitchen table, watching Grace colouring in a picture of a horse. Once more, the kitchen smelt of freshly made cakes.
‘Hello, darling.’ Cath greeted me with a big hug. ‘How are you?’
‘Good, thanks. We’ve just been talking to Arthur in the garden. He says he’ll be in in a minute for a cup of tea.’
‘Oh, good. I’ve hardly seen him all day. He’s always in that garden.’ Cath beamed at me as she bustled past to put the kettle on. ‘Did he show you all the flowers?’
‘Yes! Isn’t he amazing? I couldn’t believe how many beautiful roses he grows. I was telling him he could supply florists. Meaning me, obviously! But like he said, we could convert one of the fields and grow flowers there too and supply more. That could be another source of income for the hall.’
Anthony frowned. ‘Or for you. Remember, you need to make your business work too.’
‘I know, but Arthur has the expertise. I don’t know how it would work realistically, but my head is so full of possibilities right now. I’m so excited.’
Liz beamed at me. ‘Do you want to know something else exciting?’
‘What?’
‘We’ve booked another two weddings for next year.’
‘Hurray! That’s fantastic!’
‘I know. They both confirmed today.’ Liz smiled happily, rubbing her pregnant belly.
Cath cut us all a slice of cake and we sat around the table chatting until Arthur came in. Wearily, he took his boots off at the door and eased his feet into his slippers. A large black Labrador with a greying muzzle padded in behind him.
‘Aww, who’s this?’ I asked, holding my hand out for the dog to sniff. He walked slowly over, his tail wagging from side to side. ‘I haven’t seen him before.’
‘This is Oscar,’ Cath said. ‘He’s always here, but you probably haven’t noticed him. He’s getting on a bit so he just lies by the Aga all day or else is in the garden with Arthur.’ She smiled fondly at him. ‘He’s a good boy.’
‘Hello, Oscar, you’re lovely!’ I told him, as he licked my hand with his long pink tongue. ‘I love dogs.’
‘Do you?’ Anthony looked surprised. ‘I never knew that.’
‘I love dogs. I just can’t have one at the moment because I’m at work all day, but I’d like one, one day.’
‘You might be able to have one if you move here,’ Grace piped up from her colouring. ‘I’m getting a pony when our house is ready.’
‘Oh, Grace, you know that’s not true!’ Liz scolded. ‘Telling everybody you’re getting a pony over and over again won’t make it happen.’
‘But that’s my dream!’ Grace protested. ‘And Daddy says that everybody’s dreams come true here.’
Liz laughed. ‘I think he was talking about hooks for the wedding business, sweetheart,’ she told her.
We stayed in the kitchen until the sky outside grew dark, and then we walked back to Anthony’s cottage together. Solar-powered lights had been placed along the pathways around the hall, so it was easy to see, but once we got on the driveway to Anthony’s cottage, everything went dark. He switched on the torch he’d borrowed from his mother and I clung to his arm so I wouldn’t fall.
‘You should get some lights up this way too,’ I told him.
‘I know. I keep meaning to but I haven’t got round to it yet.’
‘Aren’t you lonely down here on your own?’
‘No. I like being alone.’
‘Why?’
He shrugged. ‘I can always go up to the house if I get bored. I’m just used to living on my own, I suppose. I’ve never lived with anyone other than you.’
‘Really?’ I frowned. ‘No other girlfriends?’ I felt weirdly jealous just talking about these faceless women from his past.
‘No. They stayed over, but never moved in.’
I stayed silent, not liking the mention of them staying over. It was stupid and immature, but I couldn’t help it.
‘Hey,’ he said, squeezing my hand.
‘Hey what?’
‘You’re not going all jealous on me, are you?’
‘Me? No!’
‘Good, because there’s no need to be.’
We walked on through the darkness, the yellow beam of the torch bobbing along in front of us. I tried to shake it off but the jealous feeling continued to cling to my insides.
‘Can I just ask?’ I said, as we neared the cottage and the amber security lights lit up as though welcoming us home. ‘Has there been anyone else since we broke up last year?’
His feet scraped on the gravel as he stopped and turned to look at me. I could barely see him in the darkness, the light from the torch only illuminating part of his arm and the path ahead. ‘No.’
‘Really? Are you sure?’ I said, making sure my tone was light and jokey. ‘Because I’ve seen how women look at you. You could have your pick of anyone.’
‘And I pick you.’
I laughed. ‘No, but seriously…’
‘Rachel, there’s been nobody else,�
� he said, his voice deadly serious. He squeezed my hand. ‘There is nobody else. Only you.’ Leaning down, he kissed me tenderly on the lips. ‘You don’t have to be jealous.’
‘Okay,’ I whispered. The intensity in his voice made my knees weak.
‘Besides, I don’t know if you’ve forgotten or something, but I spent a good portion of last year recovering in hospital.’ He switched on the hall light and shut the door behind us. ‘How about you, anyway? Did you date?’
My heart thudded with guilt. ‘A couple of times, but it was always awful.’
‘Really?’ He stopped and looked at me as though my answer was completely unexpected. ‘Who did you date?’
‘No one you know. Why?’
‘Because I want to beat them up.’
‘Anthony!’ I laughed. ‘Just a few weeks ago you thought I was engaged to Jayjay. Besides, you dumped me, remember.’
‘Are we here again?’ He put his hands on my waist and pulled me against him. ‘I thought the past was forbidden.’
‘It is, but I’m just making sure you know that if you don’t want me to date again, don’t dump me!’
He smiled. ‘Point taken.’
Raising myself up on to my tiptoes, I kissed him firmly on the lips. ‘I love you, Anthony Bascombe.’
‘I love you too, Rachel Jones.’ He kissed me and I clung to him
‘Do you want to go to bed?’ he asked, his voice husky.
‘Yes.’ I wanted this. I wanted him. Taking my hand, he led me upstairs to his bedroom and switched on his bedside lamp, casting a cool, white light over his grey duvet. My whole body tingled with excitement as I closed the door, leaning back against it as Anthony unbuttoned his shirt. It all felt so familiar and right.
My dress slipped to the floor and I knelt on the bed, watching Anthony discard his trousers to reveal white jersey trunks. He smiled and climbed on to the bed, pulling me against his hard, smooth chest. I ran my hands over his shoulders and down his back, enjoying the sensation of his bare skin beneath my fingertips. He kissed down my arms, examining my skin with a reverent wonder, as though he wanted to commit each individual hair and freckle to memory. I felt the same about him. I wanted to feel and stroke and taste and explore him; check he was still the same man I remembered. He still smelt the same. A divine mix of spicy aftershave and his own musky masculine scent that excited some deep primal hunger inside me.
We made love for hours, reacquainting ourselves with each other’s bodies until we fell asleep in each other’s arms, legs entangled as though we were an extension of each other. Being so rudely awakened by Anthony’s alarm at five o’clock the following morning was quite a shock. Outside, the sky was pale as the first rays of sun chased away the darkness. The dawn chorus was in full flow and I’d never heard one so loud or sweet. I made tea and toast while Anthony had a shower and had to spend some time hunting for cups and spoons and milk in the unfamiliar kitchen.
It was in the cupboard above the kettle that I found the tablets. The white rectangular box toppled out while I was searching for teabags. I put it back in without taking much notice and it was only when I was staring out of the window at the cornfield opposite, while waiting for the kettle to boil, that it occurred to me they might be important. Checking he wasn’t about to appear in the kitchen, I took out the box again. I didn’t recognise the name on the front, but reading the small print on the back, they appeared to be some kind of beta blocker. What were beta blockers prescribed for? I picked up my phone to look it up, but the sound of Anthony’s footsteps on the stairs made me shove the tablets back in the cupboard.
‘Hey…’ He put a hand on my hip and kissed my neck. ‘Do you want a shower before you go?’
‘No, I don’t want to hold you up.’ I checked the time on the microwave clock. ‘I can’t believe you have to drive all that way to work.’
‘Yeah, well, that’s the price you pay for living in the middle of nowhere. Besides, it’s not too bad once you get used to the journey.’
He wrapped his arms around me from behind and buried his face in the crook of my neck. It tickled and I giggled and tried to struggle out of his hold.
‘Careful, I’m trying to make tea.’
Laughing, he squeezed me tighter and kissed my cheek. ‘Mmmmm, it’s so good to wake up next to you in the morning.’
‘I know.’ I turned in his arms and put my own over his shoulders. His hair was still slightly damp from the shower and he smelt of shower gel and toothpaste. Reaching up, I pressed my lips to his, the beta blockers forgotten.
Chapter Ten
‘Do you know what beta blockers are used for?’ I asked Bobbi later that day. She was pale and tired but said the vomiting had stopped. I still wasn’t sure she was well enough to work, but she’d insisted she was okay and wanted to come in. She looked up from the lavender bouquet she was working on and frowned.
‘I think my mum was prescribed them for anxiety once.’
‘Anxiety?’ I frowned. Anthony didn’t appear to be anxious, but maybe that just meant the beta blockers were working.
‘Why?’
‘No reason.’
The door tinkled and Mum walked in, all dressed up in a pink dress, hat and heels. ‘Hello!’ she said cheerfully. ‘It’s only a quick call; your dad and I are off to the races. How are you feeling, Bobbi?’
‘Okay.’ Bobbi managed a wan smile and Mum frowned, concerned.
‘You still don’t look well. Have you seen a doctor?’
‘No, it’s just food poisoning. I haven’t been sick since yesterday lunchtime. I’m just tired, that’s all.’
‘You’re not pregnant, are you?’ Mum laughed.
‘No!’ Bobbi snapped.
Mum’s eyebrows shot up. ‘I was only joking, Bobbi. Sorry! I was going to say, if you’re feeling better we could take you down to Willow Hall so you can see the new place? But if you’re still not feeling up to it we can leave it.’
‘I do want to see it but I’m not sure I feel well enough today. When were you thinking?’
‘Whenever suits you.’
‘It might be nicer for you to see it when it’s done up a bit,’ I said. ‘Anthony said the builders should be starting next week. Did I tell you about all the flowers they grow there? They grow so many beautiful roses and cut flowers, not to mention all the flowering shrubs, wildflowers and foliage that’s everywhere. Anthony showed me around the walled garden last night, and I met Arthur. I feel like it could become a flower farm that could supply flowers to other florists, not just us. It would be hard work, but everything’s there already. We just need to harness it.’
‘Really?’ Bobbi’s eyes lit up.
‘Yes, you’ll be in heaven when you see it, Bobbi.’
Mum held up a piece of card. ‘Sorry to interrupt, but I’ve got to dash. I just came to drop this off.’
‘What is it?’
Without speaking, she turned it around for me to see. My heart squeezed when I realised it was a closure notice.
‘Oh, no,’ I said sadly.
It was fine being excited about Willow Hall, but it was still sad to have to be saying goodbye to the shop.
‘I know, but it’s got to be done, and the sooner the better now, really.’
‘But how will that affect our wedding flower business? Surely no one will come to us if they know we’re closing?’
She shrugged. ‘You’ll just have to tell people. We can’t just close without notice; everyone will panic. You should phone the brides who’ve already ordered flowers too, and tell them we’re not going out of business, we’re just moving.’
‘Shouldn’t we put that on the sign? Make it clearer to people?’
‘It does say that.’
‘Where? In tiny writing underneath the big red letters saying we’re closing?’
‘Well, yes, I thought it might shock people into coming inside and buying more flowers.’
I rolled my eyes. ‘Maybe I’ll make another one to put alongside it then.�
��
‘Yes, and while you’re about it, update your website to tell everyone. And put photos of Willow Hall and the Brew House.’
‘Already on it, thanks!’ I said, slightly offended she’d think I hadn’t already thought of that.
‘Excellent!’ She passed me the notice. ‘I’d better go.’
‘Oh, Mum, wait a minute. Do you know what beta blockers are used for?’
‘Heart problems, usually. Why?’
‘No reason.’
Mum disappeared out on to the sunny street and I frowned. Heart problems? Surely not. He was only in his thirties, didn’t smoke, and seemed fit and healthy. Why would he have heart problems?
With a sigh, I found some sticky tape and fixed the closure notice to the door. Seeing it there made it feel so much more real. Pulling out the order book, I began phoning the brides who had already booked with us.
***
With so much to sort out and organise, time passed frighteningly quickly. The builders made progress on the Brew House. It was rewired and replastered, and they plumbed in a sink and a toilet. It was strange to feel so sad about the closure of the shop and yet so excited about moving to new premises. The way the business was evolving also meant I had more control. The Birdcage had always been my mum’s shop, and although she’d passed the running of it over to me, in lots of ways it still felt like hers. Not that I’d ever resented that. I got to make lots of creative decisions about what flowers we stocked and the types of arrangements we created, so it wasn’t like I had no control at all, but my parents oversaw the majority of the financial running of the business. That was set to change now with Dad saying this new phase should be my responsibility. I had a degree in business management, after all.
‘You really should change the name too,’ Mum said, as we stood back to take more photos of the Brew House. Arthur had put potted topiary Marguerite plants on each side of the door and they softened the entire look of the building. ‘The Birdcage doesn’t suit this place. You should think of something more wild and free.’
‘But I like The Birdcage,’ I protested, bending down on one knee to take a better shot. ‘What would you suggest? Just The Brew House?’
Meet Me at Willow Hall Page 15
