‘Will I ever get married? All I’ve ever wanted to do is get married.’
‘I know you have. I know you don’t want to end up alone like your uncle and you won’t. You’re nothing like him. In the new chapter of your life, you’ll get together with someone very special. He’ll have the looks and personality you’ve always hoped for and treat you with such care and respect. Would you like to know his name?’
‘Do you know it?’
‘Yes. It is Steven.’
‘Steven?’
‘Yes. But beware, Sarah, your grandma’s saying that it won’t all be plain sailing. In this new chapter of your life, there’ll be options presented to you and one key moment when you have to pick between two special men – one who meant a lot in your past and one who means a lot in your present – forcing you to choose between the familiar and the unknown. Make sure you follow your heart, not your head. Following your heart will lead you to the true Steven.’
‘Can you tell me anything else about Steven? Where will I meet him? When? Will I know it’s him straightaway?’
‘I’m afraid your time’s up, Sarah. All I’ll say is that your grandma’s telling me you won’t get together until you turn thirty and that you must be patient and remain hopeful.’
‘Thirty? That can’t be right; I’m getting married when I’m twenty-four.’
‘We’ll see, Sarah. I know that’s what your Life Plan says but life doesn’t always turn out as we plan. Enjoy the ride.’
‘Surely there’s something else you can tell me about Steven. How will I know it’s him? Steven’s a common name.’
‘The name isn’t that important. Your grandma says you’ll just know he’s The One. I’m going to give you this CD and I suggest you put it somewhere safe and listen to it on your own in a week or so when you can really think about what I’ve said. Or perhaps when you hit your crossroads and it finds its way back into your life.’
‘Okay. Thanks.’
‘Your grandma says night-night and to please send her love to her two little girls and her grandson. She also says your mum will be devastated in the future when she can’t find your grandma’s bracelet. It’s not lost. It’s under the sofa. Goodbye Sarah.’
‘Thanks again.’ I could hear the sounds of chairs screeching on the CD, telling me I’d got up to head for the door.
‘Oh, Sarah! Stop a moment. I’m getting a message through for you from the man I mentioned earlier. Your uncle.’
‘Uncle Alan?’
‘Yes. He says he’s so sorry that you were the one who found him. He’d give anything to not have scared you like that. He wants you to know that, although he may have been grumpy sometimes, the time you spent with him meant so much to him, and… Sorry, Sarah, he’s gone now and this doesn’t make sense to me. He says he still has one every week, but now it’s a chocolate one. Do you know what he means?’
‘A digestive. A chocolate digestive.’
With very shaky hands I leaned forwards and pressed the stop button before slumping back against the bed. ‘There’s no way she could have made that up,’ I said. ‘No way at all.’
7
‘I still can’t believe you’re here,’ Auntie Kay said while we waited at the counter of The Chocolate Pot on Monday morning. ‘And so quickly. I thought you’d have to work a month’s notice.’
‘I did too, but I was owed a stack of holiday so my manager agreed to a week.’
‘That was lucky.’ Auntie Kay paid and handed me a cup of hot chocolate and a bag with a croissant in it. ‘Saves us rushing to cram everything in before I fly.’
‘I felt bad about abandoning Clare so quickly. I’m worried about her being lonely.’
‘It’s sweet that you worry about your friends, but I’m sure she’ll be fine.’
We headed slowly up Castle Street towards Seaside Blooms. I smiled as the autumn sun warmed my face and breathed deeply to take in the fresh sea air. Instead of feeling stressed at the unknown that lay ahead, I felt content and relaxed. Definitely the right decision.
‘Good to be home?’ she asked.
‘So far, so good. It feels almost as if I never moved away.’
Arriving in front of Seaside Blooms, Auntie Kay handed me her drink and pastry while she rummaged in her bag. ‘You should invite Clare up here soon if you’re worried,’ she said. ‘Make her feel like she’s part of your new life. Let her escape from that London.’
‘I’ve already invited her up for the weekend. She said I have a new life and need time to settle in, but I managed to convince her. I hope she doesn’t cancel on me.’
‘I’m sure she won’t, sweetie. She probably just needs a bit of time to adjust to life without her best friend on her doorstep. Can’t be easy knowing that Elise is on your doorstep instead. They don’t get along, do they?’
‘Never have done.’
‘Classic case of the green-eyed monster.’
‘Jealousy? Of what?’
‘You, of course. They’ve both been part of your life at key moments and both are jealous that they have to share you with the other.’
I mulled this over while Auntie Kay continued to rummage in her bag. It would certainly explain the ridiculous need to be the first to hear information and the constant snipes at each other. But it seemed so juvenile. ‘I just assumed it was a personality clash. Perhaps you’re right.’
‘I think there’s something in your theory too,’ she continued. ‘They’re definitely chalk and cheese and, in their case, I think opposites repel rather than attract. They’re a great balance for you, sweetheart, because you’re somewhere in the middle. Gotcha!’ She finally found what she’d been rummaging for: a small bunch of keys attached to a plastic daisy. She handed them to me. ‘These are yours now. Are you going to open up?’
‘I’d be delighted to.’
‘Are you ready for new beginnings at Seaside Blooms?’
‘After the year I’ve just had, I couldn’t be more ready to start afresh.’ I handed her the food and drinks, and grinned as I unlocked the door to my shop. My shop. It didn’t feel real. The little bell tinkled delicately overhead as I pushed open the door and allowed Auntie Kay to step past me. She stooped down to pick up a small pile of post on her way, giving me my first clear view into the shop. I gasped. What the…? ‘Auntie Kay, what have you done? It’s empty.’
‘I know. Surprise!’
‘Why?’
‘Because I want you to make it yours and you wouldn’t do that if it had all my fittings in it. You’ve just said you couldn’t be more ready to start afresh and this is definitely starting afresh.’
I looked for somewhere to dump my drink but she’d even had the counter ripped out. There was nothing except grubby-looking lino and bare, scuffed white walls.
‘Say something,’ she said. ‘You’re making me nervous.’
‘I’m in shock. You said something about closing the shop for a month or so while I got sorted out but I assumed you meant opening a bank account and changing names with the suppliers. Not this.’ That earlier feeling of contentment and relaxation was replaced by a feeling of rising panic.
‘This isn’t quite the reaction I was expecting. I thought you’d be pleased.’
‘I am. Sorry. It’s just that there’s so much to do and I don’t know if I can afford it. I’ve only got a few grand in savings, which won’t go far. When Jason sells the car, I’ll get my share, but I don’t know when that will be.’
‘Don’t worry about the money side of things.’ Auntie Kay gave me a reassuring smile. ‘Do you really think I’d rip the fittings out and not leave you with any money to replace them?’
‘No! Absolutely not! You can’t give me any money. You’ve already given me the shop, which is way too generous as it is.’
She laughed. ‘I thought you might say that. How would you feel if we called it a loan?’
I was about to object but, without the money to kit the place out, I wouldn’t have a business to run. ‘Are you sure?�
��
‘Yes, and I don’t want you to pay anything back until you’ve been open at least six months and found your feet.’
‘Thank you so much.’ I hugged her then looked around the empty shop again. ‘Where do I start?’
Auntie Kay laughed. ‘With a vision, of course. What do you want to sell?’
I frowned. ‘It’s a florist’s so I’m kind of thinking flowers and plants could be on the right lines.’
‘Come on, Sarah, where’s your imagination? If I know you, you’ll have given this loads of thought. I bet you even bought a new notepad. Where is it?’
I laughed as I unzipped my bag and pulled out a gorgeous new A5 notepad with a silk beaded cover and soft pastel pages. ‘Guilty.’ I’d been fantasising all week about the changes I’d love to make. I’d rushed out at lunchtime on the day I resigned to buy a pad and spent the next few evenings filling it when I should have been packing.
‘I knew it. Let’s have a look.’ She flicked through page after page of scribbled ideas, drawings, paint swatches and photos I found online. ‘You want to sell gifts?’
‘I was thinking maybe a one-stop shop for all occasions. Buying flowers for a new mum? Why not get a card and a teddy here too?’ I tailed off. ‘It’s too much, isn’t it?’
She handed me the pad. ‘What you’ve done in here is exactly what I expected of you. It’s fresh. It’s different. And if one person can bring it to life and make a success of it, it’s you. I can’t wait to see how it looks.’
‘You’re not offended?’
‘Of course I’m not offended. My business is finished, over, ended.’ She drew a cross in the air with her hand. ‘This is now a new business with a new owner. You’ve got to imagine this was something else before… like a hairdresser’s. You’ve had to rip out all the sinks and mirrors and you’re about to turn it into a florist’s from scratch. The only thing I’m leaving you with is my till because it’s new, my supplier details because you’ll need those, and any bookings from January onwards. I’ve transferred my last few bookings for the year to Evie Chandler who runs Blossoms on Park View. Her lease runs out in March and it’s being taken over by a charity shop. The rest is up to you.’
‘What about the staff?’
‘A bit depleted. Gemma failed to show for work on Monday so I told her not to bother coming back. Pat left a couple of months ago. Wendy was due to retire at the end of the year so I’ve paid her till then. My Saturday girl left for university. That just leaves Cathy and Trish, my delivery driver. I’ve not promised them anything but I’d strongly recommend you take them both on.’
I nodded vigorously. ‘Definitely. I’ll call them this morning. Will that be enough staff? Mum said she doesn’t want a permanent job but she’s happy to help out for a few months.’
‘I’d take her up on the offer and find yourself a Saturday kid. Give it a couple of months to work out who else you need and when. Evie’s volunteered to help if you’re ever stuck. I think she’s keen to keep her hand in.’
‘That’s kind of her,’ I said. ‘Okay, sounds like we have a plan.’
Auntie Kay headed into The Outback. I took a slurp of my hot chocolate as I slowly turned in a circle looking round my ‘blank canvas’, my mind racing with ideas. It’s going to look fabulous. The lino can go for a start. And that horrible strip lighting. I want solid wood floors and ceiling spotlights. A large granite counter over there with loads of room to create…
‘You’re visualising it, aren’t you?’ she said, coming back into the shop.
I nodded sheepishly. No matter what she said or did, I couldn’t help but feel guilty that I wanted to change what she’d lovingly created.
‘Has it sunk in yet that this is yours?’ she asked.
‘Not in the slightest.’
‘Then claim it.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Stand in the middle of the shop and say, “this is mine”. Don’t look at me like that. I haven’t lost the plot if that’s what you’re thinking.’
‘It’s exactly what I was thinking.’
‘It doesn’t get you out of doing it, though.’
Deciding I might as well humour her, I put my drink and croissant down on the floor and walked into the centre of the shop. ‘This is mine,’ I said, pulling a face at her.
‘Rubbish. Louder.’
‘This is mine,’ I repeated, a bit louder.
‘Louder.’
I smiled and shook my head at her. ‘This is mine.’
‘Again.’
‘This is mine.’
‘Arms in the air. Jump up and down and shout it again and again.’
‘This is mine,’ I yelled, jumping up and down like a cheerleader. ‘This is mine.’
‘Has it sunk in yet?’ she asked.
‘No. Should it have?’ I wandered back to her.
‘No. I didn’t think it would. But it was funny to watch.’
‘Auntie Kay! That’s mean.’ I gave her a little shove.
‘I couldn’t resist. So, what are you going to do first to create your dream premises?’
I shrugged. ‘I don’t know. I really wasn’t expecting an empty shell. Maybe I could get the walls skimmed? There seem to be a few bits of damaged plaster where the shelves were.’
‘Great plan. No time like the present. There’s a Yellow Pages in The Outback.’
I raised my eyebrows at her. ‘Yellow Pages? Seriously? I thought they stopped printing those years ago.’
‘You’re not in that London anymore,’ she said. ‘We still get them around here, although it may be a couple of years since I got the last one.’ She pointed towards a phone in the corner. ‘The landline’s still connected. There’s a handset there and another on the desk. I suggest you get calling.’
I glanced at the phone and tutted. ‘That reminds me. I need to get myself a new mobile but I can’t justify the cost, even with your generous loan.’
‘What happened to yours?’
‘It was a work one so I had to give it back. I feel like I’ve lost a limb.’
‘It’s your lucky day, then,’ Auntie Kay said. ‘I’m treating myself to a new phone for my holidays so you can have my old one.’
‘Really? Oh, that would be amazing. Thank you.’
‘Pleasure. Right, I’m off. I’ll come back late this afternoon to see how you’re getting on.’
‘You’re leaving me?’ Panic!
‘I have a holiday wardrobe to buy. Linda and I are off to York.’
‘But—’
‘But nothing. You need me out of your hair so you can be creative. See you later.’ With a tinkle of the bell she was gone.
Locking the door behind her, I headed into The Outback and my eyes flicked to a small pile of envelopes and leaflets lying on the desk.
‘That must be the post Auntie Kay picked up when we came in,’ I muttered to myself. ‘Let’s see. Pizza flier. Not now, thanks, just about to have my croissant.’ I dropped each item on the desk as I discarded it. ‘Electricity bill. Auntie Kay can have that. Floristry magazine. Good for a bit of inspiration, must get it transferred into my name. Business card for Steve Higgins, Window Cleaner. Bank state— Hang on a minute, business card for whom?’
8
I grabbed the card and stared at it. Steve Higgins. Steve. Steven. Before I had time to think about whether or not it was a good idea, I picked up the desk phone and dialled his mobile number. What was I going to say? He could be my destiny. I didn’t want to mess up our first conversation. I nearly hung up but the ringtone changed signalling voicemail. Phew.
‘Hi, this is Steve Higgins, window cleaner.’ Sounds nice. Friendly. ‘I’m sorry I can’t answer.’ Polite. Always a good sign. ‘I’m probably up a ladder right now…’ Sense of humour. Up a ladder. Just like a fireman. Swoon. ‘… but leave your name, number and a message and I’ll get back to you as soon as it’s safe. Bye.’
He had a strong confident voice with a slight North Yorkshire accent. Nice. L
eave a message? Don’t leave a message? Dilemma.
‘Hi Steve. We’ve never met…’ Crap. I should have hung up. What a rubbish line. Must try to recover it. ‘My name’s Sarah. Sarah Peterson. I’m the new owner of Seaside Blooms on Castle Street. It’s my first day and I’ve just been sorting through the post. You dropped a card through the letterbox…’ Friendly and confident. Business-like, but with a fun tone of voice. Well recovered. ‘I need you…’ And completely ruined again. What is wrong with you? ‘I mean I need a window cleaner. Can you stop by? I’m here all day.’ Disconnect now. Quickly. Before you utter another word.
I hung up and shook my head. ‘I need you.’ What the hell was that? And now I’d invited him to stop by. He could be the Steven Madame Louisa talked about and I’d asked him to come to the shop when I was wearing scruffy clothes and no make-up. Well done, Sarah. That was clever.
After a year of not caring, my appearance suddenly mattered very much. I’d never been one for designer clothes, unlike Clare, but I had always taken pride in my appearance. The non-proposal and steady weight gain had put paid to that. I didn’t feel good so why bother to look good? My hair was long, dark, and naturally curly. I used to spend ages teasing it into new styles I found on YouTube or taming it into sleek shiny locks with my GHDs, but scraping it back into a ponytail seemed so much easier. I’d never been one for spending ages on my make-up, but I used to make a bit of effort. A bit of effort was soon replaced by virtually no effort: a dusting of loose powder to take the shine off and a slick of mascara. Frizzy hair in a ponytail and the natural look weren’t going to attract the Steven, were they?
I glanced at my watch. I didn’t have time to get back to Mum and Dad’s to change so there was nothing for it; I had to go shopping. I downed the last of my hot chocolate, looked sadly at the untouched croissant and grabbed my bag.
New Beginnings at Seaside Blooms Page 6
