Wildflowers

by Debbie Howells

  ‘He’s gone,’ Lulubelle says, when I get there. She looks pale and strained and utterly exhausted.

  ‘You’ll think I’m mad, Frankie, but the last few days, he’s been here... I’ve felt him everywhere around me, everywhere I go. So strongly that I couldn’t believe I couldn’t touch him… Yesterday when I woke up and came downstairs, the TV was switched on. To his favourite channel. I didn’t do that. I went back to bed and he was there, curled against me. I felt his hair tickle my face, I could smell him…but when I woke up again, he’d gone.’

  She sounds frantic and utterly broken, as her loss hits her anew, yet again.

  She stands there, her hands in fists, a distraught look in her eyes. ‘He’s gone Frankie… what do I do now?’ she whispers, then she crumples.

  There’s nothing I can say, so I just hold her tightly, letting her cry, for as long it takes.

  ‘Have you told her no yet?’ I ask Honey.

  ‘Not yet,’ says Honey.

  ‘Look, you can’t let a bride bulldoze you. Especially not at the first meeting. Come on! Think of your inner lawyer, my friend. And if she goes to another florist, so be it. There are plenty more brides booked in. Take it from me, Honey. Brides can be trouble.’

  Isn’t that what Mrs Orange said to me? Did I listen?

  Lulubelle oscillates between awe-inspiring fortitude and the depths. There are times I fear that she’s lost the will to live.

  ‘It hurts Frankie… like I’ve been torn open and someone’s ripped out my heart. I should be with him... He’s alone. What if he’s frightened? Or there’s no-one with him to hold his hand or hug him...’

  Her huge, tormented eyes show her anguish – but even in her darkest moments, somehow, whether it’s one of those memories she’s stored away or something more instinctual, she finds a shred of something to cling to.

  Cosmo’s funeral is in the same church that Pete and Maria were married in. Lulubelle asks me to put a few flowers in there, so Skye and I take the earliest spring flowers - snowdrops, daffodils, primroses wound together with moss and twigs.

  The service is simple, the church packed with people crammed in, standing at the back. It’s a moving, heart-breaking service. After, everyone drifts away to Pete and Maria’s.

  The mood is sombre, but there’s no positive side to a child dying. Lulubelle holds up magnificently and when it’s over, Alex and I offer her a lift home, but she refuses.

  ‘I’m staying here for a bit,’ she says, starting to wobble. ‘I’ve got to think. But I’ll call you.’

  Across the room, Pete’s watching her. He winks at me and I realise it’s his turn now, to keep an eye on her.

  After Cosmo’s funeral, I go for a walk. Alone. I hadn’t known what to write when I left my posy of snowdrops on his grave, but now, under a velvet sky full of stars, it comes to me. I want to thank him. For showing me that life is full of love and hope and goodness, even when there’s the most unbearable sadness. And those, more than money and fame and celebrity, are what make people precious. Glancing up at the stars, I wonder if he’s looking down on us, his spirit borne by those golden wings, finally free.

  47

  But the beauty of life is that it carries on regardless, whether we want it to or not. And knowing Cosmo has changed me forever, I know that. Not just me either – but my friends. Look at Honey, training hard for the half marathon between weddings and pinning down all her wealthy lawyer friends to sponsor her. She’s on target to raise about twenty grand for Briarwood. Then there’s Skye, who’s already offered to help out at their next fundraiser. Even Charlie’s got her airline involved raising funds. And all of it, because of him.

  As February begins, we get together at the pub. It’s the first time we’ve managed it this year and the mood is sober. There’s me, Nina, Charlie, Mark and Honey, because Johnny’s working late, Will’s away on a course and Alex is staking out a warehouse where something dodgy’s going on. He won’t tell me what, which is quite annoying.

  We sit round a table with long faces. No-one’s in the mood for joking – and it almost feels as though we shouldn’t be here. Then suddenly, across the pub, I see them.

  ‘Oh my God!’ I mutter, nudging Honey’s arm so she spills her drink.

  ‘Frankie….’ she starts. ‘Look what you’ve made me do…’

  ‘Sshh…’ I tell her. ‘Over by the bar. Just look.’

  As she turns to stare, I giggle. I can’t help it. It’s Ryan, with a spammy new haircut and a blue T shirt with hers emblazoned on the front. He’s with a girl who’s also wearing a blue T shirt, only hers says his. Both of them look about twelve and they’re holding hands and gazing adoringly at each other, completely oblivious to the rest of us. Honey snorts.

  Just like that, we’re all overcome with loud, hysterical laughter. It’s a release for the months of tension, which we badly need. Honey and I laugh so much that tears are pouring down our cheeks and Nina and Charlie get the joke too, even though they don’t know Ryan like we do. Only Mark looks slightly puzzled.

  ‘You’re mad, all of you,’ says Mark. ‘Who’d like another drink?’

  Charlie glances at us all. ‘Champagne, girls?’

  And somehow, we manage a cheer. And when Mark comes back, we drink a toast to Cosmo – and to life.

  I don’t hear from Lulubelle for days and in the end, I call Maria.

  ‘I’m so glad you called.’ She sounds worried. ‘Only, she’s not sleeping and she’s talking about going away. On her own, Frankie – I’m not sure it’s what she needs.’

  ‘Would it be okay if I came over?’

  ‘Would you? Come any time you like. She doesn’t go anywhere, just sits in the garden for hours on end, gazing into nowhere.’

  Before I go, I decide there’s something I must take her. It doesn’t take long to find what I need, but it’s perfect for her. Then that afternoon, I make my way over to Maria’s, in Honey’s rather smart Audi because she says they need the van at the shop. In fact, these days, we’ve pretty much swapped as she’s taken on most of the day to day business.

  Even in chilly February this place is beautiful, in a wild, Wuthering Heights kind of way. There are tangles of sparse branches and a raw wind whipping through the garden – but there are little green shoots coming up amongst the decaying leaves, promise of spring not too far away.

  Maria lets me in and embraces me warmly. ‘Thank you so much for coming over here.’

  ‘I’m glad to, I’m really worried about her.’

  ‘So are we. Here – I’m afraid she’s outside…’

  I close the door behind me and wander over to my friend, who’s sitting huddled in a blanket gazing into space.

  Gently I touch her shoulder. ‘Hey…’

  ‘Frankie? Oh Frankie…’

  I give her the little posy I’ve made specially for her, of rosemary for remembrance, bay for strength and anemone for the fleeting nature of life. Then I reach down and hug her. She looks so lost. I don’t know what I was expecting, because it’s such early days, but even if it wasn’t, you don’t get over something like this. Just, somehow, with time, you find a place for it.

  ‘How are you doing?’ I say softly.

  ‘I’m okay.’ Her voice is quiet, but steady.

  ‘They’re worried about you,’ I tell her. ‘Maria and Pete. So is everyone.’

  ‘I know they are – but they shouldn’t be. I’m just trying to - work things out, I suppose. You see…’ she hesitates.

  ‘What?’ I sit down on the bench next to her.

  ‘It’s weird, Frankie. To begin with, all I wanted was to be in that hole in the ground, with him curled in my arms for eternity. I seriously thought about it… Don’t worry, I’m not going to do anything stupid. It would be wrong.’ She breaks off again, frowning slightly.

  ‘You see, I’m figuring it out. Some lives are short. Shorter than Cosmo’s even. But you shouldn’t judge a life by how long it is. It’s what someone leaves behind that counts the m
ost. The years I had with him, he gave me more than I can ever describe. He touched so many lives, Frankie – you saw that. And we’re all different, because of him. It’s quite a legacy from seven short years – which is why I have to go on.’

  Her eyes are bright with tears but she’s calm. ‘I’m going away for a while. I need to get away from here. I’ve got a friend in Goa who’s offered me their beach house for as long as I want it. I know there are people round here who’ll gossip about how I could leave his grave.’ She bites her lip.

  ‘Oh, I’ll pop up there now and then,’ I tell her. ‘And who gives a toss about gossip?’

  She moves her lips in a ghost of a smile that leaves her eyes flat. ‘I just think that if I go, I can start to heal and maybe discover what it is I have to do. There is something, I’m sure of it.’

  I’m speechless. Even now, when the worst has happened, she’s inspirational. If you could bottle her strength, you could change the world.

  I take her hands in mine. ‘Lulubelle, you are braver than a Masai warrior. Be kind to yourself…’

  ‘I won’t lose touch, Frankie. In fact, you need a holiday too. Once I’m settled, why don’t you come and stay?’

  It turned out that was her farewell. The very next day, she texts me from Heathrow.

  Don’t forget what I said L xx

  And then suddenly my life is very quiet. Though it doesn’t have to be, because there’s the shop. Only as I already know, I’m really not feeling the love.

  ‘I don’t know what’s happened,’ I tell Alex. I’m sitting on my sofa with my feet resting on his lap as gently he rubs my toes. ‘I used to live and breathe wedding flowers and now, I’m just not fussed.’

  ‘Maybe you need a change,’ he suggests. ‘You could sell the business… But with Honey in there, it’s in safe hands. You could actually take a break for a while for before you decide for good.’

  ‘Hmmm… you’re quite clever,’ I tell him. ‘That’s not a bad idea for a policeman.’

  He tickles my feet in retaliation.

  ‘Or… you could take Lulubelle up on her offer and go-an see her!’ he jokes.

  I raise my eyebrows. ‘Terrible,’ I tell him. ‘But, I’m thinking, if Honey agrees, I just might.’

  48

  Only Honey, being Honey, gets in first.

  ‘Now, Frankie,’ she begins, sounding bossier than she has in ages. ‘I have noticed - that you’re leaving more and more to me – and that’s fine…’ She holds a hand up as I open my mouth to speak.

  ‘I don’t mean to,’ I tell her. ‘I’m sorry, it’s not really fair on you…’

  ‘I’m not telling you off – sorry – it sounded like it, didn’t it?’ Bless, she’s trying but she still has these lapses. Anyway,’ she continues. ‘I’ve been thinking – and well, I have this idea.’

  ‘Go on…’

  ‘I know you only got into this because I forced you…’

  ‘You didn’t force me, you gave me a much-needed kick up the arse,’ I tell her. ‘For which I will forever be hugely grateful.’

  ‘Really?’ She looks relieved. ‘Actually, that makes what I’m about to say much easier.’

  ‘I can’t believe it!’ cries Nina, when I tell her. ‘It’s exactly what you need!’

  ‘You deserve it,’ says Charlie generously. ‘You’ve worked so hard… It’s a really good time to take a break.’

  ‘It’s so much easier knowing it’s Honey.’ It’s true – otherwise, I couldn’t do this.

  ‘Oh, I’ve been dying to get my hands on the place – if only so I never have to scrub another bucket,’ Honey tells them. ‘I’ll go and get another bottle of champagne.’

  ‘Have you really sold it to her?’ says Nina, after Honey’s gone to the bar.

  ‘I really have,’ I say proudly. ‘And if I want to, she says I can work for her when I get back – I’m not too sure how that would work though...’ I screw up my face at the thought of working in my shop under Honey’s orders. ‘Anyway, anything could happen – we’ll see. But she was so generous and I have a wodge of cash to tide me over. Might have to cut down on the champagne though,’ I say regretfully.

  ‘So when are you going?’ Charlie asks.

  ‘Sunday.’

  ‘Fuck – Frankie, that’s in three days. What about Alex?’

  That was precisely what was worrying me. But when I summon the courage to tell him, I’m overwhelmed by his response.

  He comes up to me and stands very close, his eyes inches from mine, as he strokes my hair behind an ear with a gesture so tender my heart melts.

  ‘You must go,’ he says softly.

  I look up at him, suddenly filled with sadness at the thought of leaving him. ‘But what about you?’ I blurt. Because even after all that’s happened, his tireless support and understanding, only now, as I’m leaving him, do I realise just how much he means to me.

  He shakes his head. ‘I’ll be here, waiting for you,’ he says simply and as I look into his eyes, I know every word he says is true.

  ‘Really?’ I whisper. ‘I thought you’d say we’d have to break up because I was going gallivanting off across the planet without you and I don’t know how long for…’

  He places a finger on my lips.

  ‘I happen to know you’ll be back,’ he says. ‘And if not, I’ll come and find you.’

  ‘You’d do that? For me? Why?’

  He smiles - and it’s a smile that reaches right into my heart, one I want to hang on tightly to forever.

  ‘Because I love you.’

  49

  I’ve learned a lot these past few months. Firstly, it’s very handy having a boyfriend who’s a policeman – especially when you’re a florist. And that even though they come from another planet, rock stars too have their uses.

  I’ve learned too – fame and celebrity, you can keep them. Life’s about so much more. And though I’ve seen more sadness in the last six months than the rest of my life put together, in the most surprising way, it’s enriched my life. It’s made happiness more prized, friends more precious and love the greatest treasure of them all. And it’s completely changed the way I look at things.

  I went to Goa and stayed with Lulubelle in the beach house, which far from being the palatial, rock star hangout I’d been picturing, really was a little wooden shack on a beach, just like she described, with palm trees and the ocean a stone’s throw from our door. It was quite simply, the closest place to heaven on this earth. I swear, I had this sense that wherever Cosmo is now, he was just the other side of where we were.

  For a whole, glorious month we talked and sunbathed and swam in that water which I’m convinced has something magical in it. And in the evenings we got drunk on cheap beer and bared our souls and did a lot of crying. But crying heals. So does sun and warmth and that spirit that I’m certain lives in Goa. And very gradually, the crying got less and Lulubelle, very slowly, started to come back to life.

  I flew home alone because she still has one or two mountains to climb before she follows, but being Lulubelle, she’s taking brave steps forward and won’t be too far behind me. She’s heartbroken of course. She always will be. Cosmo’s there, in her heart, every moment of every day, but on the outside, she’s even stronger because the worst has happened. And though nothing will ever change that, she thinks she’s found her calling. It’s still in the early stages of planning, but there might just be a Bella Mac tour on the cards, to raise money for leukaemia research. I for one, can’t wait.

  Alex met me at the airport and as I flew into his arms, I found something else out. I realised home was no longer my tiny little flat on Dexter’s Green, it was him.

  A week later, I did two things. Firstly I signed up as a volunteer at Briarwood and every Monday and Tuesday, that’s where I am – helping wherever someone needs me. It might be taking drinks round or reading stories. Sometimes I just have coffee with a parent, who like Lulubelle, faces the biggest struggle of their lives. But it gives me ba
ck something immeasurable – that if in some small way I can make a difference, I’m worth something, more than ever before. Pete did a really nice thing and donated a new boat specially modified to take wheelchairs, so no-one is denied what Cosmo enjoyed most of all.

  The second thing I did will forever stay a secret, but I crept back to Cosmo’s grave one night with a small bag of bulbs and several packets of carefully chosen seeds. Very carefully chosen and artfully planted, so that when the first of the snowdrops poke up in years to come and the grass is dotted with wildflowers, no-one will remember that it was ever any other way.

  I had mixed feelings leaving my little flat. But it’s tiny for two people as I know only too well and it made sense to move in with Alex – minus his lodger, I hasten to add, who’s gone to live with her girlfriend.

  Julia hung around – but not for long. Last I heard, she was on her way to the Bahamas. She sent me a postcard.

  Come and join me, darling

  Love Mother x

  She actually wrote mother… Who knows. Maybe I’ll go. As I’ve said before, miracles do happen.

  Back at the shop, business is booming. Honey has everything far better organised these days – and she’s hired another assistant, Megan, who is ditsier than Skye but very arty. Whenever I poke my head in, she’s scrubbing buckets, which seems a dreadful waste of her talents. But mostly, they don’t need me, so I leave them to it.

  So now, I’m onto something new. I’ve signed up to train as a bereavement counsellor, which I’m hoping is something I’ll be good at. Something else that I can use to help families at Briarwood.

  But there’s one more thing I’m kind of dabbling in, but I need to talk to Mrs Orange. It’s those posies, you see. Not the wedding kind, but the funny little twists of herbs and wildflowers that calm and soothe and uplift and heal. I think it’s time to share the magic so I might just start another business… Alex thinks it’s a brilliant idea and I’m practising on him, so far with mixed results, as I try to perfect the forever posy. And I don’t want to get it wrong.