My Kind of Happy - Part Three: A new feel-good, funny serial from the Sunday Times bestseller

by Cathy Bramley

  And with that, she marched out of the room. Laura and I listened to her receding footsteps and pulled worried faces at each other.

  ‘I don’t like the sound of this,’ said Laura. ‘If I’m ever delayed for a business meeting I always make sure I ring ahead and let people know.’

  Ditto. It was common courtesy. I felt a bit sick. I daren’t tell her that I still didn’t have a watertight contract from Edelweiss for the flowers. Besides, I knew from experience that having a written agreement didn’t automatically mean that getting paid by a client was problem-free. I remembered my old boss Bernie, tearing his hair out trying to get payment out of a Bulgarian paper mill once. We never did get the money.

  ‘Marcia’s right,’ I said briskly, ‘there could be a hundred and one reasons why they haven’t been in touch yet.’

  ‘And said they’re delayed. And taken money from guests for their hotel rooms …’ Laura raised an eyebrow.

  I couldn’t think of anything positive to say to that so I picked up my bag and chivvied us to the door.

  ‘Just putting it out there,’ said Laura, pulling the function-room door closed as we headed into the corridor, ‘but can you reduce your flower order for tomorrow?’

  I’d been thinking the same, but somehow I doubted it.

  ‘Some of the stock I ordered comes from Colombia,’ I said, pushing open the service door and stepping into the night air. ‘The cut-off time for cancellation went a long time ago.’

  ‘How much have you spent?’

  I fumbled in my bag for the van keys and unlocked it. ‘Shush. Tonight you’re doing my donkey work, not my accounts.’

  The van seats creaked as we both climbed in.

  Laura frowned. ‘But—’

  ‘Goats butt,’ I cut in sternly, starting the engine. ‘And donkeys bray. Now let’s get you home; Mr Snuggle Bunny awaits.’

  Hamish and Laura headed off as soon as we arrived back in Pineapple Road. I went inside with Scamp, feeling shaky with exhaustion and worry. My bed was calling but I couldn’t settle straight away. I tried the number I had for Edelweiss, hoping for some reassurances that all was well, but all I got was the automated response telling me that my call couldn’t be connected. As a last resort, I called Victor Sunshine on the off-chance that I could reduce my order as Laura had suggested. But it was as I feared; there was nothing he could do at this late stage.

  My whole body was stiff with tension; I knew I wasn’t in for a good night’s sleep. But there was nothing else for it but to go to bed and hope everything would be coming up roses by the morning.

  Chapter Eight

  I was wrong about not being able to sleep. When my work phone started ringing I had to drag myself from the depths of slumber to answer it. Normally it was on do not disturb at night, but I’d kept it on, on the off-chance that Edelweiss called. They hadn’t.

  ‘Nina’s Flowers,’ I said in a croaky voice. I checked my bedside clock: five a.m.

  ‘This is Tim Sullivan, night manager at the Claybourne Hotel.’

  I sat bolt upright. ‘What’s happened?’

  ‘Thought you’d like to know that you’ve had a massive delivery.’

  I collapsed back against my pillows with relief. ‘Thank you. Yes, I was expecting them. I thought for a moment you were ringing with bad news.’

  ‘It is bad news; they’re blocking up my reception area.’

  I got out of bed and went downstairs to make coffee. ‘I’ll make sure they’re out of the way before guests start to emerge.’

  ‘Hmm.’

  ‘Were you on duty when the Edelweiss team arrived last night, have they seen what I’ve done so far, do you know?’

  ‘They didn’t arrive.’

  The hairs on the back of my neck stood up. ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘Positive. It’s a right shit show down here. Oh, fff … please forget I said shit, I’m on my last warning for swearing.’

  I wasn’t interested in his language; I was more bothered about the shit show part. I switched off the kettle; caffeine would have to wait.

  ‘Balls. I’m on my way.’

  The next hour flew by in a blur.

  I made myself presentable, took Scamp out for an abbreviated morning walk, dropped him off with Biddy (who was still in her dressing gown and slippers) and reached the hotel just after six o’clock. The Edelweiss itinerary would begin with a choice of herbal infusions and plant-based snacks in the main function room at nine-thirty; I had just over three hours to turn their little part of the Claybourne Hotel into a floral idyll. Assuming, of course, that the event was even still going ahead.

  The car park was full, which must mean the hotel was busy. I parked as close as I could to the service entrance and headed inside, intending to check on last night’s work first. I tried the doors to the two rooms I was working in but they were both locked. I dashed along the corridor towards reception to find the night manager.

  There was a crowd of people standing outside the restau- rant already, mostly women. Hotel guests liked an early breakfast, it seemed. In the midst of them was a young woman in the hotel uniform of black waistcoat and white shirt, trying to keep the peace.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she was saying, looking harassed. ‘But break- fast can only be served to those who’ve left credit card details at reception.’

  ‘For the love of God,’ snarled a man with a suspiciously orange tan. ‘How many times? We have paid Edelweiss already.’

  A woman in a voluminous kaftan and a lot of eyeliner took a step forward.

  ‘You must let us in for breakfast,’ she barked at the poor girl who was having to guard the entrance to the restaurant with both arms. ‘It’s a basic human right.’

  ‘I think that’s water,’ said the woman behind her. ‘Not bacon and eggs.’

  Kaftan lady glared at her. ‘Shut up, Amy, this is all your fault in the first place.’

  I squeezed past and continued to reception.

  This area was also hectic. A swarm of guests was gath- ered around the check-in desk and a young male member of staff was pleading with them to not all speak at once. Twelve boxes of flowers were stacked to one side and I winced in horror as a woman with long grey plaits balanced a tie-dye handbag on the top of the pile.

  ‘I was here first,’ she said, glaring at her fellow guests. ‘And I demand to see the manager.’

  The young man pulled at his dark hair until it stuck up in unruly tufts. ‘That would be me. Tim Sullivan.’

  Oh good; I’d found him.

  I moved to the end of the reception desk and waved a hand discreetly, communicating by a series of gestures that I was the florist. Tim shot me a look of recognition, followed by a look which said help me, please. Unfortunately, I needed as much help as the others did and I urgently needed answers.

  ‘A proper manager,’ said the woman, ‘who’ll sort this mess out.’

  ‘Fair enough,’ Tim replied with a shrug. ‘If you’d like to take a seat, I’ll let him know.’

  ‘I shall be leaving my review on TripAdvisor,’ she said, snatching up her bag and flinging it over her shoulder. ‘And it won’t make for comfortable reading.’

  ‘Tim,’ I said quietly. ‘Is there somewhere we can talk? I need to know what’s going on.’

  ‘As if I know,’ he muttered gloomily. ‘Yeah, give us a minute.’

  Just then a minibus pulled up at the front of the hotel and another twenty or so ladies alighted.

  Despite the hour, they were very loud and exuberant, and one of them had a clipboard; Tim’s shoulders slumped another couple of inches.

  ‘Which way to the Edelweiss pre-conference breakfast?’ demanded the one with the clipboard.

  ‘Excuse me!’ A blonde-haired woman leaning against the reception desk looked up from her phone and glared at the new arrivals. ‘There is a queue, you know.’

  I froze, my heart nearly exploding with shock. I’d recognise that cutting voice anywhere: Pandora. What was she doing here?

&n
bsp; I took a step backwards out of her eyeline; I had enough to cope with without hearing another tirade from her. Tim turned away from the desk and swore just as a door behind us both opened and a man appeared.

  He pointed at Tim. ‘Did I just hear you swear?’

  The blood drained from Tim’s face.

  ‘He was giving me directions,’ I said jumping in front of Tim and bending to pick up one of my boxes. ‘Flowers off that way. I’m the florist.’

  Tim looked pathetically grateful. ‘That’s right.’

  The man scowled at all the boxes. ‘Pleased to meet you. I’m Joe Blake, hotel manager. Get this lot moved please, they’re a fire hazard.’

  ‘I will,’ I said crossly, ‘but first I need to know what’s happening.’

  ‘Don’t we all,’ said Joe. He barked at Tim. ‘Where the bloody hell is Marcia?’

  Tim shrugged. ‘How do I fff … flippin’ know?’

  Joe gritted his teeth. ‘She’s supposed to be managing this event.’

  Someone started pressing the bell on the reception desk repeatedly. ‘Hello! Any chance of being served?’

  ‘Are you the manager?’ The woman with the plaits was back. ‘I demand some answers.’

  Behind her stood a woman in her dressing gown shouting that she’d ordered room service half an hour ago and it still hadn’t arrived.

  ‘One second, ladies.’ He smiled politely at them, then hissed at Tim. ‘Get Marcia on the phone. Now.’

  ‘Marcia was still here when I left late last night,’ I pointed out, ‘surely she’s unlikely to be due in at this hour.’

  The hotel manager grunted. ‘Her shift starts and ends when the event starts and ends.’

  I let out a breath of relief. ‘Oh! So it is still on then? Because I need to know whether to finish these flower displays or not.’

  Joe jerked his head in the drection of his office and we stepped towards it out of earshot of the guests.

  ‘No one from Edelweiss has turned up. There’s been no word from them,’ he said grimly. ‘Guests are refusing to pay for their rooms and are now demanding food which hasn’t been paid for. Until we’ve had clarification from Edelweiss—’

  Tim interrupted his boss, tapping him on the arm.

  Joe growled. ‘What?’

  Tim held out the phone. ‘Phone call for you. Says he’s a detective.’

  A Mexican wave of gasps and whispers rippled over the assembled crowd. Joe grabbed the phone, marched into his office and shut the door.

  I glanced across at Pandora, who can’t have noticed me because she was talking into her phone, laughing and twirling a lock of hair. Two minutes later Joe emerged, ashen-faced.

  ‘Can I have your attention please, everyone.’ His face was weirdly blank as if he’d been hypnotised and he was clutching the phone to his chest. ‘I have just taken a call from the police. It appears we’ve all been scammed. There is no company called Edelweiss. Today’s event is cancelled.’

  A cold stab of fear stole the air from my lungs; I stared at the boxes of imported flowers. Expensive imported flowers.

  What the hell was I going to do now?

  As the news sank in, the guests swarmed forward angrily, Pandora included. I stepped inside the manager’s office to catch my breath. Joe darted in to put the phone back in its cradle.

  ‘Where does this leave me?’ I asked, blocking his route back out.

  He frowned irritably. ‘Superfluous to requirements, I imagine. I suggest you take your flowers and leave.’

  ‘Can I sell them to the hotel?’ I stuttered, grasping at straws. ‘After all, the order came via you and it would help me out.’

  He stared at me as if I was mad. ‘And who’s going to help us out? The hotel has got the small issue of thousands of pounds of unpaid rooms to resolve.’

  I swallowed. ‘As a small business—’

  He cut me off, holding his hand up. ‘We’ve already paid you a deposit as a gesture of goodwill on behalf of Edelweiss. I’m not sure where we stand on recovering that.’

  With that he pushed past me into the sea of demanding guests. It was no good trying to argue with him. The hotel was owed far more money than I was. Right now the best thing I could do was to get the flowers back to the shop, along with all the displays I’d already done and then come up with a plan to recoup my losses.

  I picked up as many boxes from reception as I could and staggered back down the corridor towards the func- tion room. The hard corners dug into my arms; they were bulky rather than heavy and I soon had to stop to readjust them. I rested my hip on a windowsill and leaned forward until my forehead met the cool glass.

  So much for my grand idea of corporate flowers being the key to the shop’s fortunes. I’d be more likely to bank- rupt us after this fiasco. Something Nina said came back to me about the lack of joy involved with corporate flowers, that she didn’t like it because ordering flowers was simply a chore to be ticked off by some faceless person with a to-do list.

  How prophetic that had turned out to be.

  The enormity of the situation I’d got myself into hit me head on and my eyes began to burn with tears; it was only flowers and only money, but I’d been gullible and naïve. I felt stupid and lonely and in that moment I’d never missed my brother more. If Freddie were here he’d make light of the situation, make up a silly song for us to sing and annoy me by telling me that one day we’d look back at this and laugh.

  But he wasn’t here. Nobody was, this was my mess and I was going to have to sort it out by myself.

  Come on, Fearne, get your act together.

  I’d got Ethel visiting me in the shop this afternoon with her daughter. I’d imagined sitting her down at the workshop table with Scamp by her side and a cup of tea in her hand while I told her of my triumph at today’s event. I’d been planning to show her the photos and impress her with my work. Now all I’d have to show for it was a shop full of flowers and an empty cash register. I groaned and blinked away the tears.

  Outside, a raised brick bed had been planted with calming shades of purple lavender, verbena and petunias, silvery grasses and shiny-leafed hostas.

  The order and symmetry of the display held my gaze and I felt my face soften into a smile; four months on from deciding to write my own happy list and flowers still did it for me.

  I straightened up, feeling more positive about the task ahead. Ethel wasn’t due until later on, I wasn’t going to let this defeat me; by the time she arrived, I had to have turned the situation around. Somehow between now and then, I had to have some sort of adventure. Buoyed with new energy, I was about to step forward when my phone rang. Trying not to drop anything, I reached inside my bag with one hand and grabbed it quickly. The name on the screen made my breath catch.

  ‘Hello?’

  ‘Fearne? It’s Sam.’ His voice was urgent and anxious.

  ‘Morning,’ I said, swallowing hard. I hadn’t heard from him since Saturday night when he’d stormed out of the shop. If he was about to shout at me for interfering between him and Pandora, I didn’t think I could cope. Not on top of anything else.

  ‘Listen, sorry to call so early, but I’ve just had a call from a contact of mine. Apparently the Edelweiss company doesn’t exist.’

  ‘I’ve just found out,’ I said bitterly. ‘I’m at the hotel now.’

  ‘Oh Fearne, I’m so sorry,’ he said, his voice laced with gentle concern. ‘It’s not just the Claybourne that’s been caught out. Twelve venues in the UK have been scammed and over a thousand people have already come forward to say they’ve lost money.’

  I gave a little moan under my breath. I was dreading breaking this to Nina. I’d really wanted to be such an asset to her with my market research experience and my new-girl enthusiasm for floristry. First I’d breached data protection rules and now this. I had to be the biggest liability her business had ever encountered.

  ‘Fearne? Are you still there?’

  ‘Yes,’ I gave a stilted laugh. ‘I’m just wor
king out my next move. But hey, I’ll think of something. Thanks for ringing, I appreciate it.’

  I heard him take a breath. ‘Would you like some help?’

  ‘Really?’ My heart skipped with joy. ‘That would be amazing.’

  ‘On my way.’

  Chapter Nine

  Half an hour later, Sam found me kneeling in the ballroom, unwinding fairy lights and dismantling the wooden trellis panels either side of the moongate that I’d never even had the chance to decorate.

  ‘Hey, there,’ he said, approaching me slowly.

  ‘Sam!’ I jumped up, startled to see him so soon. I’d had butterflies in my stomach since the phone call and it had been really difficult to focus. ‘Thanks for coming.’

  I jammed my hands into my apron pocket; it was all I could do not to hurl myself at him. He was as handsome as ever, although it looked like he hadn’t shaved or slept much since I’d last seen him. He didn’t look dressed for work, either.

  ‘No worries; besides, I don’t have any plans for the next few days.’ He looked down at his shorts and trainers. ‘I’m taking some time off; I’ve been at my mum’s house since Saturday.’

  I nodded, understanding the subtext: he hadn’t gone back to Pandora. I knew how worried he’d be, thinking about his children and what was next for his family. On top of all that, working for your father-in-law when your marriage was on the rocks couldn’t be easy.

  ‘How are you doing, Sam?’

  ‘I’ll be fine.’ His eyes met mine briefly and then he cleared his throat. He looked around the room at the flower displays and whistled. ‘You made all these?’

  ‘Yep.’ I stood and stretched. ‘I spent all our money on the stock for a client that doesn’t exist. And now I have more flowers than I know what to do with. Some of them are already cut so they need to be sold today. And boxes and boxes of others that you’d never normally find in a village florist because either they’re expensive, or unusual or simply too flimsy to last in a home arrangement. I’ve been phenomenally stupid, I’ve worked ridiculously long hours for the last few days, I’m knackered and—’

  ‘Whoa.’ He crossed the room and put his hands on the tops of my arms and turned me around, forcing me to look at my work. ‘Just, for one minute, let’s put the Edelweiss element out of our minds and stop and enjoy this. What you’ve achieved is incredible.’