The Tanglewood Flower Shop

by The Tanglewood Flower Shop (retail) (epub)

  While Jarred and Pauline were well-respected florists in their own right, Christel was apparently a celebrity, although Leanne had never heard of her. Maybe she’d been on Love Island or Big Brother, neither of which Leanne watched, or perhaps she’d had a role in EastEnders or Coronation Street – Iris was an avid fan of both those soaps, but Leanne had only seen the occasional episode.

  As she thanked the judges for their time and the opportunity, Leanne was convinced she’d bored one, and that another had found her sadly uninspiring. The only one she thought she might have impressed was Pauline Crowther, who was still smiling kindly at her. But then again, for all she knew, Pauline might do that to all the contestants, and underneath the smile she’d probably hated Leanne’s entry too.

  Despondently she followed one of the production team out into the hallway, and was surprised to be led into another room instead of being shown the exit. This one had a man with a camera in it. A really big camera, on wheels.

  ‘Just a quick look-see, to get a bit of background on you. Nothing to worry about,’ another man said, fiddling with a microphone.

  ‘You’re going to film me?’ Leanne was shocked and more than a little put out. She’d not been expecting anything like that; her hair was a mess, her face was probably all shiny and she was convinced she had bits of palm leaves stuck to her blouse. She begged for a minute to nip to the loo, and as she stared at her reflection, she was dismayed at the image peering back at her. She looked beaten already.

  That won’t do, will it? she told herself sternly. Until they informed her otherwise, she was still in the running. She had to go out there and act as though she was in with a chance.

  Pep talk over, she plastered a bright, confident smile on her face, squared her shoulders and marched to her doom.

  Back in the camera room, she wriggled a little as the man with the microphone snaked a hand inside the top of her blouse to attach it. She found that somewhat disconcerting, but not half as disconcerting as his curt instruction to ‘Begin.’ Begin what?

  ‘Er…?’

  He sighed. ‘Just say why you’re here,’ he huffed. ‘Don’t the runners tell them anything?’ he asked the room in general, and Leanne guessed he wasn’t expecting her to answer that.

  ‘Hi, I’m Leanne Green, and I’m here to win?’ she said. Damn, it had come out as a question, rather than the statement she’d meant it to be.

  The cameraman was fiddling with buttons and dials and didn’t look up.

  ‘Excuse me, but are you checking that I look OK on camera?’ she asked him nervously.

  He lifted his head from the viewfinder. ‘Good gracious, no. I don’t care if you’ve got two heads and green scales. We need to get a sound bite from you for the introduction. We do that for everyone who’s been selected.’

  ‘Say again?’ she asked.

  Microphone man coughed loudly, and the cameraman’s eyes widened. ‘Forget I said that,’ he said hastily, and the production assistant who’d shown her into the room gave him a frown.

  Had she heard him correctly? Leanne wondered. She’d assumed that everyone went through this camera/microphone thing, but when she thought about it logically, she realised it would be a waste of time to film those contestants who hadn’t been chosen.

  ‘I’ll take you back to the waiting area,’ the production assistant said, and Leanne stumbled after her.

  When they arrived at the area set aside for the contestants, she poured herself a coffee, sank onto a hard plastic chair and gazed around. There were only about thirty people left in the room; she had no idea where the rest of them had gone.

  On impulse, she got to her feet, set her cup down on a nearby table and retraced her steps to the exhibition hall. Peering in through the door, she froze.

  She counted the displays. Then counted them again.

  Thirty-one remained. Of the rest, there was no sign. Hers was still sitting there in the same place where she’d left it.

  As she stood there, a woman pushed past her, strode up to one of the displays, grabbed it and stalked back towards the door. As she drew closer, Leanne saw a hint of red in her eyes and a wobble to her chin.

  She stepped to the side and watched as the woman headed towards the exit, and a tentative hope fluttered in her chest.

  The next hour saw the number of entrants in the waiting room dwindle slowly, until only twelve remained, including herself.

  Ten more minutes passed.

  Fifteen.

  The contestants spent the time eyeing each other speculatively.

  No one uttered a word.

  Then the door opened and the same production assistant stood there with a smile on her face. ‘Can you follow me, please?’

  She led them to the interview room, and they all lined up in front of the judges.

  Pauline appeared to be the spokesperson. She had a smile on her face too, though Christel looked a bit vacant and Jarred was actually frowning. There was a long drawn-out pause as the contestants waited for someone to speak.

  ‘Congratulations,’ Pauline said. ‘You’ve all been successful.’

  For a second, there was a stunned silence, then the room erupted.

  Leanne let out a squeal, as did a couple of the other women, and one guy yelled, ‘Yes!’ and fist-pumped the air. It was a few minutes before order was restored, and Leanne stopped hopping up and down and managed to catch her breath. She’d done it – she was through!

  The remainder of the day passed in a blur of glossy booklets, instructions, reminders, rules and regulations, but hardly any of it sank in.

  All Leanne could think about was that her chances of winning had risen from one in a couple of thousand to one in twelve.

  She was still in the competition!

  Chapter 10

  ‘Nell, no,’ Rex warned as the puppy danced on the end of the lead. The poor little thing looked as though she was trying to choke herself in her effort to escape the horrid piece of leather attached to her collar.

  Nell didn’t take kindly to being on a leash, no matter if clipping it onto her collar signalled that she was going outside and could actually walk by herself rather than being carried. She baulked and lay down, only to jump up and race to the end of the lead until she was pulled up short. Then she repeated the performance.

  Rex couldn’t remember Star acting this way, but then he’d been little more than a kid himself when he’d got her.

  ‘You’ll hurt yourself,’ he said, trying again, as if the dog could understand him.

  Nell sat on her haunches and refused to budge.

  Rex hunkered down, bringing himself closer to her, and tried to encourage her with a small treat. At first she ignored it, but as he wafted the smelly morsel at her, her nose twitched and she rose onto all fours and took a tentative step towards him.

  ‘Good girl. Who’s my good, clever girl?’ he murmured, encouraging her to walk a few more steps before he relented and let her have her reward.

  She gobbled it up as though she’d not been fed for a week, then gazed up at him hopefully.

  ‘You’ve got to earn it first,’ he told her. He stood up and moved backwards.

  Nell followed.

  He gave her another treat.

  Crossing his fingers, he repeated the action. This time, instead of walking towards him, the puppy pulled back and sat down.

  Rex let out a long sigh. What was the saying, ‘never work with children or animals’? It wasn’t as though he had any choice in the matter, though, not if he wanted a well-behaved pet. He loved dogs, but ill-disciplined ones were a nuisance, and in his job, if his dog didn’t do as she was told as soon as she was told to do it, she could become a danger to herself and to others.

  Inside the house he’d managed to get her to sit and stay, and wait to be told she could eat, and come when called. Outside, it was a whole different ball game. She hated the lead and had no qualms about letting him know it. At this very minute, she was sinking her teeth into the leather and worrying at
it, shaking her head furiously and emitting cute little growls.

  ‘No,’ he repeated firmly, bending down to free the lead from her jaws. ‘Bad girl. Naughty Nell.’

  Her ears drooped. Over the course of the past few weeks, her half-cocked, droopy ear had straightened up, but now both of them lay close to her head at her master’s scolding. She knew what ‘bad girl’ meant, though Rex understood it wasn’t the words themselves but the tone he used. She was very reactive to his voice, and was anxious to please.

  She’d soon learn that having the lead clipped onto her collar meant new things to look at and new smells to sniff, and a chance to trot beside her pack leader. Eventually Rex would even allow her off the lead, but not for a good while yet; not until he could trust her to behave herself and come back when she was called.

  There were lots of steps and hurdles in between then and now, and one of those was Nell’s training with sheep. Her instinct was to herd, but that wasn’t her job, and he had to be confident she wouldn’t chase the flighty woolly animals before he let her run loose on the hills.

  With that in mind, he was trying to head towards Leanne’s shop – if Nell cooperated. The time for carrying her was gone, unless they were out for too long a walk for the pup’s little legs to cope with, so he was determined she was going to make it around the corner and up the street without him resorting to picking her up. It was a perfect length for her first outing on her own paws, and he hoped she wouldn’t disgrace herself and wee on the floor of the shop the second they were inside the door.

  There were two reasons for the impending visit; three if he counted the lead training. The first was to ask Leanne if her dad would mind if Rex and Nell visited the farm for some essential training with a couple of Geoff’s calmer ewes. The second was to see how Leanne had got on in London. He’d been rooting for her yesterday, hoping she had managed to take a step closer to her dream. If not, he was more than happy to provide a shoulder to cry on.

  There was actually a fourth reason, which was to see Leanne herself.

  ‘There’s a good girl,’ he said as soon as Nell walked a few paces next to him. Her nose was down and her tail was up, a clear indication that she was starting to enjoy the experience, and for a couple of yards she forgot she was being restrained. Then suddenly she remembered and started doing the mad capering dance once again as she objected to the leash.

  Maybe she’d be more accepting of a harness, Rex mused, and decided to stop off at the ironmonger’s on the way back. They had a good supply of pet stuff, so hopefully they would have something to suit a small puppy. Except she wasn’t so small now. She was quickly leaving the adorable ball-of-fluff stage behind and was growing into a lanky teenager, all legs and very little coordination.

  Tongue hanging comically out of the side of her mouth, she gazed up at him with expectant eyes. They were still blue, and Rex didn’t think they were going to darken now, although they weren’t as bright as they had been when he’d first got her.

  ‘Come on, blue eyes,’ he said, encouraging her with his voice as he tried to continue the short walk from his house to the flower shop.

  With a series of jerky stops and starts, lots of praise and the odd treat or two, they eventually made it out of his road. Leanne’s shop was only a hundred or so yards down the street, but by the time he pushed the door open and ushered the pup inside, he was exhausted. Who knew having a puppy could be so tiring? He’d clearly done all this before with Star, but he must have forgotten the sheer hard work it had taken. Or maybe he was simply getting old.

  ‘Nell!’ Leanne cried, rushing out from behind the counter and dropping to her knees as soon as she spotted the dog.

  Rex watched her indulgently as she took the puppy in her arms and let Nell smother her with wet-tongued sloppy kisses.

  ‘I can’t believe she’s old enough to be out for walks,’ Leanne said. ‘It was only yesterday that she fitted into the palm of my hand and her eyes were still closed. Oh, she’s a darling, aren’t you, little one!’

  The dog squeaked a whimpering response and Leanne kissed the furry head. ‘How is she doing?’ she asked.

  ‘Aye, good, thanks for asking. This is her first time on a lead, so she’s a bit excitable.’

  Several more endearments and kisses on both the dog’s part and Leanne’s followed before Rex managed to mention the favour he’d come to ask.

  ‘Do you think your father would object if I brought Nell to the farm? I want to make her understand that sheep aren’t for chasing. Of course, she’s nowhere near ready for that yet,’ he added, ‘but give her a few weeks and she will be.’

  ‘I don’t think he’d mind at all,’ Leanne replied, clambering to her feet. ‘In fact he’d probably welcome it. I wish all dog owners were as responsible as you. You wouldn’t believe the number of times an unleashed dog has gone after our sheep.’

  Rex would; he’d been a ranger for long enough to know the damage even a small dog could do once it was consumed with the excitement of chasing livestock. That furry little ball of cuteness lying on the rug at home could quickly revert to its wolf ancestry if the situation presented itself.

  ‘How did you get on yesterday?’ he asked after Leanne had promised to speak to her father and get back to Rex with an answer.

  He watched her face carefully and was relieved to see a huge smile spread across it. She could hardly contain her excitement as she told him her news, and was practically hopping from foot to foot.

  ‘That’s wonderful!’ he exclaimed. ‘I’m delighted for you.’

  ‘Even if I’m sent home after the first round, it’s still an achievement,’ she said, but he could tell that if she was eliminated, she would be terribly disappointed.

  ‘I’m sure you won’t be,’ he said. ‘You can’t think like that, either. Tell yourself you’re going to win. I’m sure you wowed the judges.’

  ‘I don’t know about that. Jarred Townsend was a bit sneering and condescending, and he didn’t seem to like me or my design.’

  ‘I’m positive he did,’ Rex replied firmly, ‘and I’m sure he isn’t as bad as you think he is.’

  Leanne eyed him doubtfully. ‘Maybe not,’ she said, but she didn’t sound convinced. ‘He’s one of the top florists in the country,’ she continued, ‘and I get the feeling he can be a bit of a diva. I suppose he’s entitled to be, considering he does the flowers for lots of big names and top events, but I’m not sure I actually like him.’

  ‘You don’t have to like him,’ Rex pointed out. ‘All you need to do is to impress him.’

  ‘I suppose,’ Leanne said, then she smiled ruefully. ‘But if you’d seen some of the other designs…’ She trailed off. ‘I still think Jarred doesn’t like me, and I think he was outvoted by the other two. He’s awfully young to be so successful – I think he’s only a year or two older than me – and he’s incredibly good-looking to boot.’

  Rex was beginning to dislike the guy already, and it had nothing to do with the fact that Leanne seemed to have been quite affected by him.

  ‘I’ve got something for you,’ she said suddenly, and darted through the door behind the counter, emerging with a large pot full of flowers.

  ‘That’s kind of you,’ he said, wondering what he’d done to deserve such a nice gift.

  ‘If it wasn’t for you, I wouldn’t have come up with the idea for the task they set,’ Leanne explained.

  ‘And that was…?’

  ‘A completely recyclable, reusable bridal bouquet.’

  ‘I don’t understand. Can’t you compost the flowers anyway once you’re done with them?’

  ‘Yes, but this takes it a step further. Most brides throw their bouquets to their unmarried friends, and some keep the flowers and press them. Either way, most bouquets go in the bin eventually. My idea was to use living plants rather than cut stems, so they can be potted on afterwards. That way, the happy couple will have something to keep for a long time. All your talk about reduce, reuse, recycle had me thinkin
g how wasteful even the floristry business can be, despite, as you say, being able to compost cut flowers. I just wanted to take it a step further.’

  ‘It’s lovely,’ Rex said, regarding the pot with fresh eyes.

  ‘It takes more time to prepare the bouquet and there are limits to the kinds of plants and flowers that can be used, but the judges seemed to like it. “Very on trend,” was what Jarred said, although he didn’t sound as though he meant it.’

  There she was, talking about Jarred Townsend again, although why it should bother him so much, Rex had absolutely no idea.

  ‘Have dinner with me tonight?’ he asked abruptly. Crikey, where had that come from? He’d not arrived at her shop with the intention of asking her out, and he fully expected her to turn him down.

  But he was delighted when she said yes, the expression on her face one of pleasant surprise.

  And he found himself looking forward to the evening very much indeed.

  Chapter 11

  Leanne eyed the pile of garments strewn over her bed with dismay. How come she had so many clothes yet she had nothing to wear? She’d grown out of all her party gear – not that she ever went to that many parties – the stuff she wore to work wouldn’t do (jeans, T-shirts and trainers; definitely not), and the few bits she did have that were presentable enough and grown-up enough to wear to go out for dinner weren’t to her liking.

  In fact, she couldn’t remember the last time she actually had gone out to dinner. A quick meal down the pub after work with Stevie or Tia didn’t count. They didn’t care what she wore.

  And Rex will? she asked herself.

  Probably not, was her answer. He’d most likely only asked her out to say thank you for the planter, or because he’d thought she might want to celebrate her success at getting through the selection process with one of the few people who actually knew about it.