Wildflowers

by Debbie Howells

  ‘What did you do that for?’ She turns and glares at me.

  ‘Did you even hear what I just told you? About Cosmo? Being in remission?’

  This time it has the desired effect and she completely forgets what she was watching. ‘Oh Frankie, that’s great news! She must be over the moon!’

  ‘She is. Honestly, Honey – I don’t know how she copes with all the worry. She’s amazing… Anyway, I need to tell you something and I don’t know if you’re going to be very happy with me.’

  I tell her about calling Johnny and the boat and Sunday and she goes quiet.

  ‘It’s a really good idea,’ she says. ‘For Cosmo. Did he say anything about me, Frankie?’

  ‘We didn’t talk for long enough,’ I tell her, trying to avoid telling her. ‘You know Johnny. He doesn’t really do long phone calls. And I was in a hurry too. It was an awfully short call, you know.’

  She nods slowly. ‘He’s not going to come rushing over, is he?’

  I can’t lie. It doesn’t look as though he is.

  ‘It doesn’t mean anything, Honey. It’s only been a few days – but I did think of a plan. Charlie and Nina are coming along on Sunday – why don’t you come too? Just to remind him what he’s missing?’

  She shakes her head. ‘I don’t know. It might just make everything awkward and I don’t want to spoil Cosmo’s day.’

  ‘But it’s an opportunity,’ I persist. ‘You can wear your new clothes and look really sexy and surprise him.’

  ‘I’d love to – but it might be better if I leave it this time – just so Lulubelle and Cosmo can have a happy day without anything getting in the way.’

  Wow. This is most charitable of her, when I know how much she wants Johnny back. Which reminds me of another charitable matter.

  ‘Maybe you’re right,’ I say gently. ‘But believe me, I’ll be stirring him up on your behalf.’

  ‘Thanks.’ But it’s a tight-lipped smile she gives me.

  ‘Changing the subject – I seem to remember, it’s not just me running this half marathon. Don’t you think it’s time you started training?’

  22

  Sunday comes and we head for the wilds of the Kent countryside, leaving Honey alone at home. She’s promised not to mope – she has too much to do anyway, what with marathon training and swotting for her floristry course. Lulubelle picks me and Charlie up. Nina and Will are meeting us there and though it’s early, the clear sky and light winds promise another fine day, just as Johnny had predicted.

  Cosmo’s bursting with excitement and chatters all the way there, mostly to Charlie, who’s sitting in the back next to him.

  ‘He’s been awake since five,’ Lulubelle tells me. ‘You’ve no idea how much this means to him.’

  ‘We’re just as excited,’ I tell her. ‘The only slight worry is Honey.’

  I fill her in about how she and Johnny were having these terrible rows and hadn’t spoken for ages.

  ‘So you still think there’s a chance they’ll get back together?’

  ‘I know so,’ I say. ‘They’re made for each other. It’s just they’re both stubborn and someone has to make the first move. Look – I think we’re here…’

  We have a fabulous day on Matty’s boat, with Cosmo leaping around in his little life jacket as we chug peacefully up the river amidst the greenest lushest fields. Not for nothing is Kent known as the garden of England. And there’s something about being on the water that’s calming and kind of spiritual almost, if you can blot out the racket my friends are making. Up on the bow doing my best Kate Winslet impression, I’m joined by Johnny, who under the surface, isn’t as chipper as I thought.

  ‘I take it she’s staying with you?’ He can’t even bring himself to say her name.

  ‘I take it you’re talking about Honey?’

  He nods.

  ‘She is. She’s helping me in the shop too. To tell you the truth, I think she’s really enjoying it. It does get a bit mad in there, but it’s quite the antithesis of her law firm. And she’s making herself seriously useful. But what about you? How are you bearing up?’

  He shrugs. ‘Not great, if I’m honest. Truth is, Frankie, I’m not sure what to do. Of course I want her back, but I want things to be different.’

  ‘That’s a little bit bonkers, Johnny,’ I say kindly. ‘I mean, she’s the same Honey you married. Smart, clever, gorgeous…’

  ‘…and bloody bossy,’ he adds.

  ‘That too, but she’s working on it. She realises the error of her ways, my friend. Don’t give up just yet. faber est quisque fortunae suae. It means man is architect of his own fortune,’ I add, seeing his baffled face. ‘Woman, too. You might be surprised at how she’s changed. Why don’t you ask her out, Johnny? On a date? See how it goes?’

  It’s my inner hairdresser again, but just maybe I’ve hit on a good idea. Men really aren’t too good at the subtleties of relationships, I’m realising. Should I mention it to Honey?

  Out of the corner of my eye, I notice that Charlie’s doing a lot of flirting – with Johnny’s friend Matty, of all people. He’s a nice guy – a very boat sort of person, I always think, with crinkly eyes and deck shoes and tanned arms. He has a protective arm round Cosmo as he lets him steer the boat and not for the first time I notice there’s something about this child that brings out people’s generosity. In fact, it’s a great atmosphere today. Cosmo is loving every second. My picnic goes down a treat and by the end of the day, I think we’re all of us sorry it’s over.

  Out of the corner of my eye I see Matty give Lulubelle his card.

  ‘You devil, you!’ I tease him quietly, as he helps me off the boat. ‘You flirt with Charlie all day, then I see you sneaking your card to Lulubelle as we leave…’

  ‘It’s not like that,’ he protests, then blushes as I plant a smacker on his cheek.

  You’re a complete darling,’ I tell him, ‘for doing this. Thank you so much. It’s been fabulous.’

  So there we are, back on dry land, with Charlie steering a reluctant Cosmo back towards the car park.

  ‘Got a hot date then?’ I tease Lulubelle as I climb into her car, watching as her cheeks colour just faintly.

  ‘He just asked if we’d like to go out again sometime,’ she said. ‘Isn’t that lovely of him?’

  ‘Very lovely...’ I say agreeably, raising my eyebrows. ‘Very lovely indeed.’

  Even Honey’s had a good day by the sounds of it. She went for her first run and spent several hours studying her floristry books. And she’s itching to ask about Johnny.

  ‘Did he ask about me, Frankie?’

  ‘He did, actually. And he looks terrible. His hair needs cutting and he has shadows under his eyes and it didn’t look as though any of his clothes had seen an iron.’

  Her lip wobbles as I mention the iron. She’s a stickler for a neatly pressed shirt. It’s obvious they still love each other.

  ‘Honey… one of you has to make the first move. Why not call him? What have you got to lose?’

  ‘I’m frightened he’ll push me away… after everything I said.’

  ‘So apologise…’ Talk about stating the obvious. ‘Tell him how sorry you are.’

  ‘Perhaps…’

  ‘You can’t give up,’ I tell her firmly. ‘velle est posse - remember? Where there’s a will there’s a way.’

  Or maybe, secretly, she’s rather liking her new life. A little too much, I’m starting to suspect.

  It’s the start of another week, with another wedding – and a funeral. From time to time we do them, when clients realise that they don’t have to buy the funeral company’s offerings which I have to say round here, are usually ghastly. And there’s something about sitting down with a client and finding out the story of someone’s life.

  This week’s is for an elderly gentleman who liked the countryside. He was a gamekeeper, apparently, who lived round here all his life – so we’ve made this rustic-looking arrangement with beech and willow, with cow par
sley and corn flowers and dog roses and daisies, and ivy to drape softly over the coffin. Skye found some pheasant feathers so we poked those in too and as a result, it looks like a little piece of the countryside he loved.

  Honey’s taking her floristry training very seriously and keeps asking me really annoying questions, so I decide she needs a challenge, preferably one that will get her out of my hair.

  ‘Honey… you know that idea you had, about setting up meetings with wedding venues? If you still want to, I think it’s a great idea. The only thing is, if you bugger off back to your law firm, how am I going to cope with the extra work?’

  ‘You could employ someone…’ she says casually. ‘Part time perhaps – that way, you wouldn’t have to pay them too much. Who knows, you might even find someone who’ll just slot in now and then, when you need them…’

  Oh. I see where this is going. I know she’s trying, but Honey’s still about as subtle as a brick. I play along.

  ‘So, er… do you think I might find someone who’d do that? Only most people I know want set hours and proper pay and conditions… You’ve seen the books. I can’t really offer that, not at the moment.’

  She nods silently. ‘But, let’s just say, if you could find someone who didn’t mind…’

  I can’t keep quiet any longer. ‘Okay - you’ve got the job,’ I tell her delightedly. ‘But…’ Suddenly I remember. ‘What about the law firm? Are you sure they don’t need you?’

  ‘I was going to tell you. Only I’ve written them a letter. I haven’t posted it yet but the more I think about it, the more it seems the only thing to do.’

  Gosh. This is quite a departure, Honey thinking before she acts, but even so, leaving her job is huge.

  ‘You’re seriously thinking about resigning, aren’t you?’ Oh my days, I can’t believe what I’m hearing.

  ‘That’s what I’m suggesting…I can’t go back to full time, Frankie. It was killing me. It might still have killed my marriage – by the way, I didn’t tell you. Johnny called me.’

  I leap up excitedly. ‘What did he want?’

  ‘He was brief. Just said could we go for dinner. So we are. On Friday – if that’s ok with you?’

  ‘Of course it is! You have to go! And if you end up going home together, Skye and I will manage everything on Saturday. There’s only one wedding this week. Hey! This could be it!’

  She tries not to look too hopeful. ‘I don’t know about that, but it’s a start…’

  On Wednesday, Honey delivers the funeral flowers because I have a meeting – with a difference – because this wedding is a Hindu one.

  I’ve been busily reading up on them because unlike traditional weddings, the flowers are symbolic and actually used as part of the ceremony, so if I’m not going to look a complete numpty, I need to know what I’m talking about. Trying to remember the difference between sanskars and mantras, with red, white and gold flower ideas coming out of my ears, I’m feeling confident – until the olive-skinned bride, Karima and her mother arrive, followed by her father, two sisters, an aunt, niece and her brother. Biggest wedding consultation ever.

  By the time I’ve found seats for everyone, Honey’s returned and goes to skulk quietly in the back.

  ‘Excuse me just one moment,’ I say to Karima. Then scuttle off to find her.

  ‘You want to be a proper florist?’ I hiss at her. ‘This is your chance to come and be one.’ Then I drag her out there and introduce her.

  ‘This is my partner, Honey,’ I tell them. ‘She’s awfully good at organising. Now - where shall we start?’

  The trouble with so many people is that they all want to speak at the same time, mostly in Indian. Karima is charming and stunningly beautiful, with sleek brown hair and olive skin. She also speaks perfect English, which is just as well because her mother and aunt need everything translated. It’s an unbelievable three hours before I have enough details to put a quote together. At the end, I run through one or two details.

  ‘Just to double check, I’ve got the date as 15 July next year,’ I tell them.

  ‘Oh no,’ Karima looks alarmed. ‘It’s actually this year… is that a problem?’

  ‘Of course it’s not,’ says Honey and I elbow her hard in the side.

  ‘But that’s only three weeks away… I think we had better check the diary, don’t you?’ I say sweetly, trying to hide my panic as I turn to Honey. ‘Would you mind?’

  Fortunately we can do it, but it’s very last minute for a wedding on this scale.

  ‘We will need a deposit,’ says Honey firmly at which point the father starts looking shifty. ‘And payment in full two weeks before.’

  ‘That’s fine,’ says Karima. ‘Can you email me the details? And thank you so much, Frankie. I’m sorry we’ve taken so much of your time…’

  As they troop back out to their cars, Honey watches them, a frown on her face.

  ‘He isn’t going to pay,’ she says, as soon as they’re out of earshot.

  ‘Don’t be silly, of course they will.’ She’s a terrible judge of character. ‘Aren’t you being slightly racist?’

  ‘Excuse me, it’s nothing to do with being racist. It was the look in his eyes – didn’t you see it? I had a client once who looked shifty like that. An American. He bounced several cheques on me and in the end, said his way of doing business was to settle up at the end. I told him my way of business was to pay as he went along or he could find himself another lawyer.’

  But I think she’s lost the plot a little, because I fire the quote off and the deposit pings straight into my bank account.

  ‘See?’ I tell her, in my best told-you-so voice.

  ‘There’ll be something, Frankie – mark my words. You just wait.’

  But the day passes uneventfully after that and later on, Lulubelle comes in.

  ‘Hi! I came to tell you – there’s an open day at the hospice coming up and I wondered if you’d help… only we’re desperate for more hands, even if it’s selling teas for an hour…’

  ‘Of course… when is it?’

  ‘A week on Sunday… and I know it’s usually your day off…’

  ‘Perfect!’ I say cheerily. ‘I’d love to! Count me in!’

  ‘Thank you,’ she says, just as Skye wanders over.

  ‘I can help too, if you like…Oy, Honey?’ she calls across the shop. ‘Next Sunday – we’re helping Lulubelle – ok?’

  ‘Oh – yes – ok.’ Honey looks uncertainly at us all. ‘I’m not sure I’ll be much use though…’

  ‘Could you help with the teas?’ says Lulubelle. ‘Just for a bit?’

  ‘Alright,’ Honey looks relieved and I realise her reluctance is because she’s never had much to do with children, let alone those who are seriously ill.

  ‘It’s a great place,’ I tell her, after Lulubelle has gone. ‘I was nervous the first time I went there too, but I’ll tell you now – it won’t be anything like you’re expecting. You’ll enjoy it, I promise.’

  After work, we go to the pub in the village for a very quick drink and surprise, surprise, as we go in, who should we bump into, but Alex. And though I’m instantly on my guard, my heart does a little dance all on its own.

  ‘Hi, Frankie. How are you?’ he asks, holding the door open. ‘How’s your training?’

  ‘Great, thank you. This is my friend Honey. She’s running too, actually.’

  ‘Cool. Nice to meet you.’ He holds out his hand to her and I feel a sudden pang of irrational, childish jealousy. I hate how this man makes me feel. Then he looks at his watch. ‘Actually, I really ought to go. I’ve got to be somewhere.’

  ‘Don’t let us hold you up,’ I say as a strange look flickers across his face.

  ‘What was that about?’ says Honey. ‘You couldn’t have made it more obvious if you’d tried.’

  ‘Made what obvious?’

  ‘That you couldn’t stand even to talk to him. Really, Frankie. I’ve never seen you like that before. You were almost rude.’
>
  ‘Actually, he’s the rude one. He thinks I’m shallow and pointless, so I can’t see the point in even talking to him.’

  ‘He said that to you?’ She’s astonished.

  ‘Not exactly. But I know that’s what he thinks. And what annoys me most is he’s right. So would you mind if we changed the subject?’

  ‘Now just a minute,’ says Honey. ‘You’re the least shallow and pointless person I know. Look how you’re helping me, and Lulubelle, and the hospice…’

  ‘Honey, I really don’t want to talk about it.’

  She shuts up then, but I don’t feel much better. I’ve still blown it with Alex and I still have a long way to go.

  23

  That evening, Honey’s arranged to meet Charlie. After years of being arch enemies, there’s the green shoots of a beautiful friendship developing. So much so, they don’t even invite me!

  ‘Sorry Frankie, only I really need to talk to her – um – alone,’ says Honey cryptically. ‘You don’t mind do you?’

  ‘No…’ But I’m curious as to what she has to discuss with Charlie that she won’t tell me. ‘Of course I don’t - I’ll put my feet up and catch up on Hollyoaks. It’s fine.’

  But my mind is never idle for very long, this evening being no exception and I take the opportunity to put into action phase two of my plan to safeguard Maria and Pete’s wedding.

  ‘Hello Josh? Look, I’m sorry to bother you, but I’m just a little worried about your brother. Are you free this evening?’

  The Squire and Horse isn’t a pub I’d usually go to – it’s one of an identikit chain, so when you walk inside you could be in any of them. But as Josh suggests it, I just agree and when I walk in, the place is packed. I weave my way through the masses to where he’s already standing by the bar.

  ‘Frankie!’ he moves to kiss me and I swiftly turn my face so his lips brush against my ear, which isn’t an unpleasant sensation until I remind myself the lips belong to Josh, who isn’t pleasant at all.