Spring on the Little Cornish Isles: Flower Farm

by Phillipa Ashley

‘I’m sorry. Life is shit sometimes,’ was all Will could offer, but he shaded his eyes and looked up at the plane too.

  There was no possibility of a last-minute reprieve. He really was going. Already had gone. As Adam flew over, he’d be able to see the golden fields below and easily pick out the flower farm. He’d easily distinguish Thrift Cottage. Perhaps he would even spot her, standing in the middle of the field staring up at him. Would he be feeling as if his heart had been ripped out too? Would he be longing to turn that plane around and head back to Scilly and tell her that he’d made a huge mistake and ask if they could start again?

  The plane was almost directly overhead. She was being silly. It wasn’t likely Adam was looking out for her. If he cared that much, he’d be here on the earth not leaving, because they had been happy once. Everything had been perfect until that bank holiday in August.

  Something had changed in the moment he received that text. That message had sent him racing home to Cumbria to deal with a ‘family crisis’ and when he’d returned, he was a different person, as if he’d picked up a burden overnight. It had started a chain of events – all still a mystery to Jess – that had gradually seen Adam loosen his connection with her over the autumn until last October he’d said he needed a break. His reasons had been vague and no amount of questioning by Jess had ever unearthed the real cause, just that ‘he had to have some space.’ She’d been upset, then angry, before finally accepting that she might never know what had happened. Will had tried to ask him what the matter was and met with a firm rebuff, and even Maisie had tried to find out and got the same stony silence.

  With Adam living and working in the same tiny community, it had been impossible not to bump into him around the island and in the local pubs. On those occasions, they’d barely spoken, although they’d exchanged plenty of looks. Occasionally, Jess had thought Adam was about to speak to her but other times, he’d seemed eager to be out of her sight as soon as possible. He’d walked out of the Driftwood a couple of times shortly after she’d walked in, once attracting comments from the regulars about leaving his glass half full.

  In November, Adam flew home to Cumbria and was gone again for a few days at Christmas, presumably to see his parents. He’d visited them before and they’d stayed with him a few times but Jess couldn’t help wondering why he was going back so frequently, as it was an expensive and time-consuming business. Even though she’d been angry and hurt, she hadn’t stopped loving him, which seemed the cruellest thing of all.

  ‘He’s still renting the cottage. I know that much,’ said Will, returning his attention from the plane to Jess. ‘Maybe he does plan on coming back.’

  ‘It’s probably because he can’t get out of the cottage lease. There’s a few months left on it. I know that because he took out a year’s contract on it last spring.’

  ‘Hmm. If he was too much of a coward to even explain properly why he’s leaving, then you’re better off without him. Oh, shit. There’s Mum.’

  Jess groaned as they both spotted Anna crossing the yard at the top of the field. Fortunately she walked straight past the entrance to the field and headed in the direction of the barn where they stored the animal feed and other farm supplies.

  ‘Phew, for a moment there, I thought she was coming over to give us the benefit of her views on Adam again,’ said Will, toeing the soil with his Hunters. ‘Not to mention our love lives, or lack of them.’

  ‘Yes, she doesn’t have the greatest view of men in general and Adam specifically. A postman was never “good enough” for me, according to her, and now her lack of faith in him has been proven.’

  Anna had been quick to subscribe to the theory that Adam had a secret girlfriend or even wife and told Jess ‘it was typical of bloody men’ – in other words, she considered Adam in the same league as her ex-husband. Jess knew Adam wasn’t the same as their father. At least she hoped he wasn’t. But maybe her mother was spot on and Adam had been seeing another woman and his reluctance to explain himself had merely been guilt. There probably wasn’t some great mystery behind his change of heart, just someone else who he cared for more than Jess.

  Will heaved a sigh. ‘Well, I’d better be getting back to work. If you need me, you know where I am. If you want to get out tonight, why not come down the Gannet for a few drinks?’

  Jess had never felt less like going out, but maybe drowning her sorrows was better than moping. ‘Thanks. I may just do that.’

  ‘You can keep the hanky,’ he said and, with a consoling squeeze of her fingers, he went back to supervise the harvest in the top field.

  Jess tore her eyes from the plane and bent low to twist and pluck a stem from the earth. She had to get a grip. Adam had clearly moved on and it was time she did too. For the next half an hour, she threw all her energy into furiously plucking flowers. Yet she couldn’t shake off the thought that something dramatic had changed while Adam had been away from Scilly in the dark nights of the previous autumn. Although she’d hardly spoken to him, his behaviour had seemed erratic to say the least. Over those autumn and winter months, she’d caught his longing looks, the moments when he’d been about to say something to her and stopped. If she could only have got through to him, reached him somehow but it was obvious that all meaningful communication between them was long over. And … then in January, she’d finally found out that Adam was leaving Scilly for good.

  In contrast, Maisie’s life had changed dramatically over the past six months – for the better. Jess was delighted for her friend, although it seemed as if the two of them had exchanged places. She so wanted Maisie to be happy, although the contrast in their lives since last August couldn’t have been bigger. Since then, Maisie had found love again with Patrick McKinnon, a handsome Australian who had come to work in the Driftwood Inn – and stayed. He and Maisie were now having a baby after a whirlwind romance and had moved in to a cottage near the pub.

  Jess heard voices and laughter from the seasonal staff. They included Gaby who stood up and stretched her spine. Her oversized dungarees hung off her and her hair was caught up in an old-fashioned headscarf like one of those Land Girls you saw in wartime TV series. She was peering at the plane as if she knew Adam was on board too. Gaby caught sight of Jess and raised a hand in a half wave.

  Jess waved back before pretending to inspect a bloom. Gaby didn’t need Jess being a grumpy arse too. She had enough to put up with, with Will’s scathing comments and grumpiness. For some reason, he behaved very strangely around her, although Jess was pleased that Gaby gave as good as she got. She’d surprised Jess with her resilience; that inner core of steel Jess had glimpsed had really shown itself and Gaby had become a valued member of the team.

  Thinking of the staff reminded Jess of how many people depended on her getting on with things and that’s exactly what she was determined to do. Besides, she had a family wedding to look forward to at the end of the month as her cousin, Julia, was marrying a guy who worked in the same hotel as her on St Piran’s island. Will and Anna were going of course, and the farm was supplying most of the flowers for the venue. The wedding was set to be one of the biggest on the isles for years. Now wasn’t that exactly what you wanted when the person you loved had just flown out of your life forever?

  Chapter 7

  Valentine’s Day was already a memory when Gaby made her way from the staff house towards the fields, there was a hint of true spring in the air. They were into the final week of February and although an inch of snow had fallen in London, gridlocking the capital, the air on St Saviour’s was mild and the sun warm on her back. She planned on calling her parents later, but for now, a day of work lay ahead.

  She hoped the hard work would help to stop her from dwelling too often on the fact that Stevie would have been twenty-two today. Not only that, but the first anniversary of his death was only a month away. It would be a very tough time for the whole family and Gaby planned to go home for a long weekend to support her parents.

  ‘Gaby!’

  Th
e shout came from Will who was about to waylay her as she was entering the top field. Her spirits lifted when she saw his outfit: a charcoal grey suit, with the trousers tucked into his wellies. Both the trousers and jacket looked brand new, teamed with a white shirt and tie, which also looked fresh from the box – unlike his trusty wellies. He carried a small narcissus buttonhole between his fingertips as he bore down on her. Gaby waited for him by the edge of the field, acutely aware of the contrast between Will’s smart suit and her own outfit. Along with her dungarees, she was wearing a new hat: one of those patterned Norwegian woollen ones with a fleece lining that made her look like an elf. Resisting the urge to pull it off before Will saw it, she braced herself for a confrontation but had no idea why.

  ‘Gaby, have you got a moment?’ he said briskly.

  ‘Yes, boss.’ She peered at his clean-shaven chin, not sure if she preferred it to the usual stubble. Then decided she did rather like it and had to stifle a giggle.

  He frowned. ‘What’s so funny?’

  ‘Nothing. Nothing at all.’

  He rubbed his chin. ‘Have I got toothpaste on my chin or something?’

  ‘No. Everything’s fine.’

  He rolled his eyes. ‘Good because I’ve no time to fart about this morning. This wedding’s come at our busiest time and I can’t really afford a whole day off. Why do these events have to last all day?’ He pulled a face, then poked his fingers through his hair which was still damp from where he’d rushed out of the shower by the look of it.

  Gaby nodded enthusiastically. ‘I totally agree. I’m never offended when I only get asked to the evening do. And those Save the Date cards give you no chance of booking a week in Outer Mongolia so you have a good excuse for getting out of them.’

  He laughed. ‘Well, as we’re already in Outer Mongolia, I never need an excuse to avoid the things on the mainland, but I’ve no get-out this time. Mum’s close to her sister, so we have to go and, of course, we’ve provided all the flowers for the church and reception.’

  ‘Yes, I did notice.’

  Gaby had been called in to help pick and take the flowers into the shed, where Becca, one of the senior members of the design team, had worked with the wedding florists to create the table arrangements, displays and bouquets. There were jasmine-scented Paper Whites, sunny Hugh Towns and Daymarks, with added greenery and some other spring blooms from the mainland to add a splash of contrasting colour. The flowers had been loaded onto the boat at first light to transport to the wedding venue at St Piran’s community hall.

  ‘I really don’t want to leave you, of course,’ Will said, adding hastily. ‘To cope on your own, I mean.’

  ‘I expect we’ll survive somehow.’

  He sighed. ‘Good … I don’t feel I can bring the boat back here straight after the ceremony, leaving Jess and Mum to get a lift later. The new group of pickers who arrived yesterday need supervising. Normally we don’t take on new staff mid-season, but we need them for that new supermarket contract that Jess has managed to secure and Len’s not well and can’t come in today.’

  ‘I heard Len was ill. Nothing serious, I hope?’

  ‘Norovirus, apparently, but he needs to keep well away from everyone or it’ll go through the whole team.’

  ‘Poor Len,’ said Gaby, and she meant it. Although Len could be a pain in the bum, she didn’t really want him to go down with Noro.

  ‘He’s stopped throwing up but he has to stay away for another forty-eight hours.’ He shoved one hand in his suit pocket. Gaby winced. Stevie had always done that on the rare occasion he could be strong-armed into a suit like the day she got her Master’s a few years earlier. She could hear her mum now, saying, ‘For heaven’s sake, Stevie, you’ll ruin the cut of those trousers.’ Stevie had rolled his eyes and shoved his hands deeper in his pockets. Gaby smiled.

  Will didn’t.

  ‘The thing is. You’ve come on a lot. I despaired when you first started, but I’m beginning to think you might make a half-decent picker after all.’

  ‘Why, thank you for the compliment, Mr Godrevy.’

  He frowned deeply as if he was offended, then the corners of his lips tilted. ‘I – we – need you to keep an eye on the new lot, just for today. You know what novices are like. We need to finish harvesting the Daymarks for a big wholesale order. I wouldn’t ask but we’re desperate, so if you could leave this and go up there and show them the ropes. I’ll tell them you’re the temporary supervisor and know it all inside out so they won’t know any different.’

  ‘Again. Thanks for the vote of confidence.’

  He grinned. ‘You’re welcome. I like the new tea cosy by the way.’

  ‘I like your new overalls.’ She raised a cheeky eyebrow.

  He glanced down and grimaced. ‘Make the most of it. You’re not likely to see me in a suit again.’

  ‘I guess not. Um. You might like to cut the tag off before you go to the wedding.’

  ‘What? Damn. Where?’

  ‘The price tag’s hanging down the back. Hold on.’

  Gaby held the buttonhole so he could take off his jacket. She snipped off the price tag with the cutters she kept in her pocket and smirked. The jacket had obviously been ordered online from John Lewis and was actually a rather nice one. She tried not to smile too much while he shrugged it back over his broad shoulders.

  ‘Don’t forget this.’ She offered the flower.

  ‘Thanks.’ He took the buttonhole from her, pulled a pin from his lapel and started trying to fasten it.

  ‘Hold on. You’re making holes in your new suit.’

  She took the bloom from him, stuck the pin between her teeth and in seconds had fastened the narcissus neatly onto his lapel. With a gentle tweak to make sure it was at exactly the right angle, she stood back to admire her handiwork.

  And him.

  Wow. This was quite worrying. The way her hands weren’t quite steady when she’d finished fixing the flower. The way her stomach did a routine to rival an Olympic tumbler at the feel of his suit under her hands. The hungry way that he was looking at her despite her tea cosy hat and her dungarees with the strange flask-shaped bulge in the pocket like she was nursing a baby kangaroo.

  He lowered his chin and peered down at the buttonhole. ‘I’m impressed.’

  ‘Practice. I’ve fixed them lots of times for friends during exams,’ she said. When he looked surprised, she added, ‘They liked to wear a different colour carnation for every day of Finals. It lightens the mood a little as you’re going to the gallows,’ she explained as his brow creased in puzzlement.

  ‘That’s how I feel.’

  She laughed at his gloomy expression. ‘Then again, this is a wedding, not root canal work.’

  ‘Hmm … look, thanks again, and if there are any problems, you can reach me or Jess on our mobiles. It might take a while for us to get here, but if it’s an emergency, you must call.’

  ‘Relax. Enjoy. Everything will be fine,’ she said breezily. If only she meant it.

  ‘I’m sure it will. And, Gaby …’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘Are you absolutely sure you’ll be OK?’

  He looked at her and lifted his hand as if he was going to touch her but then dropped it again. He can’t possibly know what today is, Gaby told herself. No one outside the family knew. She wasn’t sure he even knew about Stevie at all. She had mentioned the circumstances briefly to Jess not long after she’d joined the farm, but asked her not to tell anyone else. She didn’t want anyone’s pity, least of all Will’s, but she did crave his respect … Oh, who was she kidding? She fancied him like crazy, and the sight of him in a suit and wellies was fuelling a load of very unusual fantasies.

  ‘I’ll be fine,’ she said, then cleared her husky throat. ‘Just go to the wedding, Will. Please.’

  Yet he made no move to leave her, and they held each other’s gaze too long for boss and employee. For a few seconds, she genuinely wondered if he might jump on her in his wedding suit in the m
iddle of a muddy field.

  ‘Will! What on earth are you doing? You’ll ruin that suit!’

  At the shout from behind him, Will turned sharply, but Gaby could already see Anna making her way into the field. Like her son, Anna was also wearing wellies, but any resemblance ended there. She was holding up the skirt of a purple shift dress while hobbling between the flower rows. She wore a fitted teal jacket over the dress and her immaculate blow-dry was topped by a fascinator of extravagant blue and purple feathers. She reminded Gaby of a very angry peacock.

  She reached them, darted an accusing glance at Gaby and then rounded on Will, while keeping her tight dress above the level of her wellies.

  ‘I’ve been looking for you for the past twenty minutes. What are you doing out here?’

  ‘Sorting out some cover for the new crew. Mum, be careful or you’ll get your dress dirty.’

  ‘If I do it’ll be thanks to you. We need to leave!’

  ‘I’m ready now. Gaby’s going to supervise the new crew while Len’s out of action.’

  Anna’s eyebrows rose. ‘Her?’

  ‘Yes, Mum. Everything’s fine.’

  ‘Well, if you think Gaby’s up to it. No disrespect to you, of course,’ Anna said to Gaby, when she was clearly thinking something very cutting indeed. ‘But you are new and it is a huge responsibility.’

  Gaby opened her mouth to try and get a shot into this game of Godrevy ping-pong, but Will batted his response back too fast.

  ‘Mum. It’s only for a day and Gaby knows exactly what she has to do. She’s been here six months and if there’s a crisis, I’ll have to bring the boat back, won’t I?’

  Anna pursed her lips. ‘And wouldn’t you just love an excuse to do that?’

  ‘It’s fine. I promise you there won’t be a crisis.’ Gaby finally jumped into the rally. ‘So, you can all go and have a lovely time at the wedding. Don’t worry about anything. Enjoy your day,’ she said emphasising the word ‘day’, so Will knew he had to stay away.

  ‘Thanks a lot,’ said Will, his eyes gleaming with a mix of gratitude and exasperation.