The Tanglewood Flower Shop

by The Tanglewood Flower Shop (retail) (epub)

  ‘What happens now?’ Rex asked.

  ‘We wait.’

  ‘Can I see him? Do you think they’ll let me?’ Rex plucked up the courage to ask. He didn’t really want to remind Dean right now that he could be the child’s father, but he was desperate to see the baby and make sure that the infant, at least, was well and healthy.

  ‘Oh man, he’s perfect,’ Dean said, and Rex felt a stab of envy, swiftly quelled, that Dean had set eyes on Lyall before he’d had a chance to. ‘He’s got dark hair like Jules, and blue eyes, and a little squashed nose.’

  Blue eyes, Rex thought. Jules’s eyes were hazel. Dean’s were dark brown. Blue eyes, like mine? Oh God.

  ‘Hang on a sec,’ Dean was saying. ‘Let me check on Jules and I’ll be right back to take you down to see him. He’s in the skiboo.’

  ‘The what?’

  ‘Special care baby unit, the SCBU. He’s in an incubator because he’s a bit early, but he’s doing OK.’

  SCBU, ICU? It amazed Rex how quickly Dean had become fluent in hospital-speak. He supposed he might soon be using the acronyms with ease too, and wished with all his heart that he didn’t need to, that Jules was well and healthy and that Lyall didn’t need to be in the special care unit.

  Dean came back and nodded his head at Rex’s questioning glance. ‘Jules’ parents are busy with her now so it’s a good time to take you to see m— the baby.’

  Rex guessed that Dean had been about to say ‘my son’, and his heart twisted. It was so weird that the other man also thought Lyall might be his child, but maybe that was a good thing, since Dean and Jules would be living together and—

  The thought hit him like a sledgehammer to the brain. What if Jules didn’t pull through? What then? Who would bring the baby up? The child’s father, that was who, whichever one of them that turned out to be.

  He staggered and put his hand out to the wall to steady himself. In the space of little more than a couple of weeks, he’d gone from being carefree and responsibility-free to the very real prospect of being a single parent.

  Then another thought came to him – they really, really needed to perform the paternity test, because if Jules… (he didn’t want to face that word, not yet, as if by saying it in his head it might make the awful thing happen), then he didn’t want to be in the middle of a fight to claim the baby. The matter of Lyall’s paternity needed to be sorted out before… Again he hesitated, not wanting to face the possibility that the little boy might soon be motherless.

  They arrived at the entrance to the baby unit and Rex paused. The enormity of what he was about to do punched him in the chest. He was going to meet what might be his son for the first time, and it scared him to death. What if he didn’t feel that instantaneous love everyone spoke about? What if he felt nothing? He was excited and terrified, and felt sick with nerves.

  ‘It’s all right, mate, take your time,’ Dean said, and Rex felt a sudden resentment that this man who had stolen Jules had seen the child first.

  Oh Lord, his emotions were all over the place. He didn’t know what to think, how he was supposed to feel, what he should say…

  ‘I’m fine,’ he said, although anyone could see that he wasn’t.

  A nurse greeted them at the door, insisting they put on hospital gowns and wash their hands. ‘Your… er… baby is well and healthy,’ she explained to them both, although Rex guessed that Dean had heard this before. ‘He’s a little small, so we’ll keep him in SCBU for a while yet. This way.’

  She led them into a side room, where two small bundles lay in individual cots. Along the way, Rex caught a brief glimpse of a larger area with clear-domed incubators with tiny, tiny figures inside them. The lighting was dimmed, and he only had a quick look, but seeing those little babies with wires and tubes humbled him. At least Lyall was healthy.

  Dean came to a halt next to one of the plastic cots, and the expression on his face made Rex’s heart constrict and miss a beat. The man looked besotted. Poor Dean, it was going to be so hard on him if Jules… and if Rex was the father. Rex would take the baby home with him – although at the moment he didn’t have the foggiest idea where home was going to be – and Dean would be left with nothing. He put a hand on his former friend’s arm and gave it a squeeze.

  ‘Aye, he’s bonny all right,’ Dean said as Rex walked around the cot for a better look. The baby was on his side, facing away from the door, and all Rex had been able to see up until now was a mop of unruly dark hair poking out of the top of the sausage-shaped blanket.

  He stood for long, long minutes staring at the face of the newborn child who might or might not be his son, and love rose up to swamp him in a tidal wave of emotion.

  The little boy’s eyes were tightly shut, his mouth working, lips pursing. Rex could only see his face, but it was enough, although he did long to unwrap him like the best Christmas present in the world and count those tiny toes and kiss those minute fingers.

  Instead, he stared and stared, consigning the baby’s face to memory. This first sight of him was so precious, and—

  ‘Could I have a quick word?’ The nurse who had spoken wasn’t the same one who had shown them in. This one wore a different uniform and an air of authority. ‘Not here,’ she added, and gestured for the two men to follow her.

  She showed them into another side room, this one with comfy chairs and bright colours on the walls. They all sat down, and Rex waited for her to begin.

  ‘First, please let me say that I understand how difficult this is for you both. Lyall’s grandparents have asked…’ She paused. ‘There’s no easy way to say this, so… They want to determine which of you is the baby’s father sooner rather than later, and to this effect a mouth swab was taken from Lyall this morning. Once we have swabs from the two of you, they will all be sent away for DNA analysis. Paternity testing isn’t something the hospital would normally do, but under the circumstances…’

  Rex looked at Dean and Dean stared back at him. Rex cleared his throat.

  ‘What do we need to do?’ he asked.

  ‘I can take a swab now, if you like. Or you can wait to see a doctor, if you need it explained or if you have any questions.’

  ‘Let’s get it over with,’ Rex said, and Dean nodded. ‘Just one thing, though, how long will the results take to come back?’

  ‘About a week,’ the nurse said.

  Rex’s heart hammered. The idea that he might already be a parent was terrifying and exhilarating at the same time. The idea that he might not was just as overwhelming and he wasn’t sure how he felt about that, either.

  Chapter 40

  Nope, nah, definitely not, maybe. Leanne was sifting through a pile of applications, not very enthusiastically. None of them had really made her sit up and take notice. Most were nothing but hopeful, a few were meh and only a couple were worth the bother of inviting them in for an interview, but even then she wasn’t all that impressed.

  Maybe her standards were too high, but she really did feel she needed someone who had worked in a flower shop before. Trimming your dad’s hedge and weeding his raised beds didn’t actually count, she decided, tossing that particular letter on the definitely not pile.

  She sighed dramatically, wondering what she should do now. Should she keep advertising, or should she have another look at a couple of the maybes? Time was getting short and she really did need to have someone in place soon.

  ‘What’s up?’ Saul said.

  Leanne let out a squeak. ‘What are you doing here?’ It was late, and she’d assumed that with her parents in bed, she had the downstairs to herself.

  ‘I live here,’ he replied.

  ‘No, technically you don’t. You have your own place, so use it.’

  Saul’s lips twisted into a wry smile. ‘I can’t.’

  ‘Why not? Had a tiff with Murray?’

  ‘Not exactly.’

  ‘Go away, Saul, I’m not in the mood for games,’ Leanne grumbled.

  ‘Sorry. It isn’t a game. Murray
has got himself a girlfriend and I’m keeping out of his way, that’s all.’

  ‘Really? Since when?’

  ‘A couple of months now.’

  ‘Who is she? I might know her.’

  Saul filled her in on the details and Leanne enjoyed having her mind taken off her immediate problems. She was really pleased for Murray – it was about time he had a steady relationship. The same went for Saul, too, but she despaired of him ever settling down.

  ‘I reckon he’ll be asking her to marry him before too long,’ Saul confided.

  ‘Crikey, he doesn’t hang about, does he?’

  ‘You know Murray, he’s the quiet one in the family. I hope he brings her to meet Mum before he pops the question, though, otherwise he won’t hear the end of it,’ Saul said.

  ‘What will happen with your house?’ Leanne wanted to know.

  Saul shrugged. ‘It makes sense for him to stay in it if he does get married, rather than trying to find somewhere else to live. I can always move back in here.’

  ‘Great. I’m looking forward to it,’ Leanne said, deadpan.

  Saul smiled and shook his head, and there was silence for a while until he picked up some of the applications and rifled through them. ‘No joy?’

  ‘Not really.’

  He scanned a letter. ‘This one seems all right.’

  Leanne took it from him and glanced at it. ‘She’s too old.’

  ‘Mabel is old; this one is only in her fifties,’ Saul pointed out. He picked another application off the maybe pile. ‘What about this one?’

  ‘Too young.’

  ‘This one?’

  ‘Too…’ She hesitated.

  ‘You haven’t really got a reason, have you?’ he asked. ‘I get the feeling you’re going to find fault with all of them. Is that because you can’t let go of the reins?’

  She shrugged. ‘Maybe.’

  ‘Talk to me, Lea. I might be able to help.’

  Oh God, she was going to cry. ‘I’m scared,’ she admitted in a tiny voice, her eyes beginning to fill up.

  Her brother scooted his chair closer and put an arm around her. ‘What of?’

  ‘Everything!’ And she burst into noisy tears.

  When she’d calmed down enough to speak properly and not simply make ugh, ugh noises, Saul pushed her away slightly to study her.

  ‘Tell me, sis. What can I do to help? Is it the next round? Do you need me to get the wire cutters out again?’

  Leanne snivelled and sniffed, her smile as damp as her face. But at least it was a smile; her brother, for all his annoying ways, never failed to cheer her up, even if it was just a tiny bit.

  ‘No wire cutters,’ she said, blowing her nose on a tissue she’d found in her pocket.

  ‘Come on, spill the beans. A problem shared and all that,’ he insisted.

  ‘If you must know, the whole idea of leaving Tanglewood scares me.’

  ‘Of course it does. It’s only natural. Moving to London and going to work for Jarred Townsend is a big step.’

  ‘I don’t know if I can do it. What if I’m not good enough? I might make a right pig’s ear of it.’

  Saul shrugged. ‘If you don’t try, you’ll never know, will you? Do you want to get to eighty and think “I wish” or “what if”? Jarred Townsend must think you’re good enough or he would never have made you an offer.’

  It was odd the way everyone seemed to refer to Jarred by his full name, Leanne thought absently, then wondered when it was that she’d stopped doing the same.

  ‘Maybe you’re right,’ she conceded. ‘But what if I get there and he realises he’s made a mistake?’

  ‘Then you come back home and go back to working in your flower shop,’ Saul pointed out. ‘You won’t really have lost anything.’

  But she had already lost something, hadn’t she? She’d lost Rex. Although to be fair, she wasn’t sure whether she’d actually had him in the first place. She must have imagined the feelings and the connection between them for him to leave her high and dry so quickly and so thoroughly.

  She blamed herself for the state she was in – if she’d concentrated more on the competition and less on her love life, she wouldn’t be feeling as awful as she did now.

  ‘There’s more to this than you’re telling me, isn’t there?’ Saul asked. ‘If I were you, I’d be grabbing this opportunity with both hands. The Leanne I know would too. She’s never been afraid of anything in her life. She’s a real go-getter, knows what she wants, then goes and gets it.’

  ‘I know what a go-getter is.’ Leanne bumped his shoulder with her own. ‘Idiot.’

  ‘So why aren’t you being one? I know you, Lea, and this isn’t you. What’s happened? Has Jarred Townsend said something, or done something? Because if he has, I’ll go get those wire cutters now and pay him a visit.’

  She nudged him again. ‘Don’t be silly.’

  ‘Tell me what’s wrong, then,’ her brother demanded, ‘because this isn’t like you at all. Yes, I get that it’s a big move and you’re bound to be worried and nervous, but I’ve never seen you cry like this. Not even when Dad’s prize ram broke your arm.’

  ‘He was a nasty sod,’ Leanne said, smiling wryly at the memory. ‘It bloody hurt.’

  ‘Stop trying to change the subject.’

  ‘You started it!’

  ‘Why have you cried yourself to sleep every night for the past week?’

  Leanne froze. ‘I haven’t.’

  ‘You have. I’ve heard you.’

  ‘How long have you been sleeping here?’

  ‘About a week.’

  ‘Oh.’

  ‘Yes, oh. Now, are you going to tell me?’

  Leanne thought for a moment. ‘It’s women’s problems,’ she said, knowing Saul would run away faster than a rabbit being chased by a fox at the possibility that he might have to discuss such a thing with his sister. Ha, that’ll shut him up, she thought.

  It didn’t.

  ‘I don’t believe you,’ he said. ‘If you’ve got medical issues that are serious enough to make you cry every night, then I’m telling Mum and she’ll take you to the doctor.’

  ‘I’m too old for my mother to take me to the doctor!’ she protested.

  ‘Do you want to chance it? You know what she’s like when she gets going.’

  Leanne fell silent. Patient confidentiality wouldn’t count for a lot with their mother if she suspected something was wrong with any of her children. Leanne had no doubt Iris would make the appointment on her behalf and drag her to the surgery kicking and screaming if necessary.

  ‘Rex McMillan,’ she said eventually.

  ‘What about him?’

  Leanne worried at her lip with her teeth. It was one thing admitting it to herself; it was another thing entirely to admit it to someone else. It made everything more real somehow. ‘I think I love him.’

  ‘What?’ Saul sat up straighter. ‘You do?’

  ‘I do.’

  Her brother thought for a moment. ‘Does he love you?’

  She shook her head, not trusting herself to speak.

  ‘Bummer.’ Saul let out a breath. ‘Does he know how you feel about him?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Right. Maybe if you told him…?’

  ‘Yeah, like that’s a really good idea,’ Leanne retorted. ‘What am I supposed to say? “Hey, Rex, I know we’ve had a couple of dates, and we’ve kissed an’ all, but I think I love you. Whaddya say?”’

  ‘I wasn’t suggesting you should come right out with it like that,’ Saul began, then stopped. ‘A couple of dates? Really? When? And kissing?’

  ‘You’re not being much help, you know.’

  ‘Sorry. I don’t have much experience of this kind of thing.’

  Leanne raised her eyebrows.

  ‘I’ve got plenty of experience in the kissing department,’ he amended. ‘I was talking about love.’

  ‘Count yourself lucky. It’s horrid.’

  Saul put his arm
around her again and she leaned in for a cuddle, feeling the dampness of his T-shirt where she’d cried on it earlier. He was all right, for a brother, she thought. Not that she’d ever tell him that.

  ‘Is it just this Rex thing that’s making you unhappy?’ he asked.

  ‘You can’t even say the word “love”, can you?’ she teased. ‘No wonder girls don’t stick around. You’re a commitment-phobe.’

  ‘I haven’t met the right one yet, that’s all,’ he replied stiffly.

  ‘You will, one day,’ she said.

  ‘So will you,’ he replied.

  ‘I thought I already had,’ was Leanne’s soft, sad response.

  Chapter 41

  It might be twenty-five-plus degrees Celsius down in the valley, but the temperature on the mountain above Glenshona barely reached double figures, what with the elevation, and the wind blowing inexorably from the west. It was positively howling a gale up here, Rex thought, watching Nell dance through the clumps of heather and blueberry bushes.

  He bent down. Fruit was just starting to form on the bushes, little hard nodules, and it would be a few weeks yet before they’d be ripe enough to pick. He used to love nothing better than clambering up the steep slopes above Glenshona, a pack of jam sandwiches in one pocket and a bottle of blackcurrant squash in the other, clutching a Tupperware box in his hand with every intention of filling it to the brim with wild blueberries.

  What usually happened was that he’d eat more than he put in the container, his lips and tongue stained purple, and then he’d get distracted by a skylark’s nest or a burbling spring, or something equally riveting, so the promised apple and blueberry tart his mother vowed to bake when he returned home would never materialise.

  He straightened up. The jagged humped spines of mountain after mountain faded into the distance, their colours soft and muted, shrinking patches of snow still clinging to some of them. The air was fresh and clean, carrying the scents of the land he knew so well: gorse, grass, heather and the occasional hint of deer. But it was the almost-silence he loved the most; the wind susurrating through the low vegetation and the calls of nesting birds were the only noises except for his own breathing and Nell’s tongue-lolling panting.