Wildflowers (24 page)

It’s not until the next morning I realise how woozy I was last night because otherwise I’d no way have ended up here,
in Alex’s spare room,
being kept an eye on
, as he put it.  Then Josh flashes into my mind and I’m really rather glad I’m not at home.  After all, in this state, I’m not exactly up to dealing with an irate journo.  And I need to think.

Get this: Alex brings me tea.  Piping hot, with sugar in, because he says it will be good for me.

‘But I’m sweet enough,’ I tell him, lying back pathetically against giant soft pillows.  I try my hardest to look as though I still need looking after.  ‘Don’t you think?’

H
e ignores me.  ‘I’ve brought you my bath robe and there are clean towels in the bathroom, if you fancy a shower.’ 

I go all tingly when he says that, wondering if his bath robe smells as nice as he does.

‘And I’ll put some breakfast on.  Scrambled eggs?’

‘Lovely,’ I say.  ‘But really, you don’t have to go to all this trouble for me.’

‘Frankie.  I’m not eating just because you’re here,’ he says. 

‘I like your house,’ I tell him
, because I do.  It’s very masculine but still manages to be comfortable.  And it’s tidy, which I find most puzzling.  ‘Do you live here on your own?’

‘I have a lodger. 
She’s also in the police, which means with our shifts, we rarely see each other.’

Lodger, eh?
  Does he think I was born yesterday?  

‘So
, er, is she working this morning?’

‘Yes,’ he says briefly.  ‘Only, it’s not exactly
this morning,
Frankie… it’s just gone midday.’

I gasp in horror and go to leap out of bed
, only my head throbs.

‘Hey, it doesn’t matter, does it
?  Unless…you haven’t got a wedding have you?’

‘No!’ I cry
, holding my head where the bump is.  ‘But the shop… I should have opened up ages ago…’

‘Don’t worry – I, er, called Lulubelle and she was going to call your friend Honey.  I’m sure, between them, they’ll have everything under control.’

‘But I must phone them!’ I say frantically.  ‘I can’t just not turn up like this!’

‘Strewth.  It’s no wonder you’re burned out, Frankie.  The world won’t stop just because you’re not there.’

‘It won’t?’  My voice is small and pathetic as I realise he’s right.  Honey and Skye are more than capable of managing without me.

‘Why don’t you take a few days off?’ he suggests.  ‘Get some
rest, go on some walks… just wind down a bit.  You’d really feel better for it.’

‘Look, I’m only a florist.  It’s not like I have this high-powered, high-pressure job like a surgeon,’ I tell him.
  Oops…  ‘Or a policeman…’

‘I know, but from what I’ve seen, you’ve had a lot on lately.  When did you last have a holiday?’

I shake my head because I truly can’t remember.  There was Ibiza when I was eighteen, Tenerife a couple of years later and I went away with Alice and Dave just after Martha was born, when I was really there as a baby sitter, or so it seemed at the time.  So not a proper holiday…  ‘
Don’t know…
’ I mumble.

He shakes his head.  ‘Hopeless.’

Of course, a
fter he drives me home, as soon as his car is out of sight, I go straight round to the shop.

‘I’m so sorry.’ I go bursting in
there, expecting all hell to have broken loose, but there’s just Honey, quietly doing the books.  As I look around, everything is neat and tidy, buckets scrubbed, floor swept, not a stem out of place.

‘What are you doing here?’ she says crossly.  ‘You’re a workaholic, Frankie.  Don’t you trust me or something?’

‘Of course I do.  I was just worried.’

‘You thought Skye and I wouldn’t manage?  I sent her home early because everything’s done and
the last thing we need is for her to collapse like you have.  Now, I’ve been going through the diary and the rest of this week is quiet except for a couple of small weddings on Saturday which we can manage – so go home.  And
please
, do not come back this week, or I’ll phone Alex to come and arrest you.’

‘Oh,’ I say, feeling very small
and unwanted.  ‘Okay.  I’m going.’

It’s surreal, all the more so when almost home, a familiar figure shuffles along the pavement towards me.

‘
Hello, my lovely.  Now, I heard, you see.  I brought you something to help.  Left it on the doorstep as I can’t be hanging about.’

‘Oh.  Thank you Mrs Orange.  That’s
so kind.’

She steps closer and peers into my face.  ‘You don’t look so good, duck.  Told you
them brides were trouble.  Let that bossy friend of yours get on with it and have a rest.’

And
with that, she carries on up the road to the village.

On my doorstep I find it.  One of her posies – just a small, simple one, of dusty lilac and white tied with her trademark string.  There’s lavender and jasmine to relax and calm someone as jittery as I am, and feathery soft clary sage to lift my mood. And pine, its grey-green needles perfectly complimenting the flowers but bringing its own contribution to the mix. Tentatively I hold it to my nose and breathe it in - and it’s as though the little atoms of magic come whirling in through my nostrils.

Alex calls that evening, just to check up on me and after I hang up, there’s a knock at the door.  I check through the window just in case it’s a psycho journalist from hell, but thankfully it’s not - it’s Lulubelle.

‘I’m worried about you,’ she says as she comes in. 

‘So is everyone,’ I shake my head.  ‘I can’t see what all the fuss is about.’

‘People don’t keel ov
er for no reason, Frankie.  You couldn’t be – well, pregnant – could you?’

‘God no!’
  I’m horrified.  ‘I can’t be – I mean, you have to have sex for one thing and I haven’t.  I don’t mean
not ever
, just not in ages.’

‘Well, should you see your doctor?’

‘No,’ I say.  ‘Actually yes!  I really should.’ 

I call Nina while Lulubelle’s
still here and she insists on coming over straight away.  Not only that, when she gets here, Charlie’s with her.  And just after she finishes giving me a very through check up, in the privacy of my bedroom and including dipping my wee with one of those sticks, Honey turns up too.

‘Yay!’
I say, beaming at them.  ‘Let’s have a party!’

At which point they turn and stare at me.

‘Sit down,’ says Nina firmly.  ‘Frankie, you need to slow down – not forever, just for a week or two.  How many miles a week are you running?’

‘
Forty,’ Honey answers for me.

‘How often do you get to bed early?’

‘Never,’ say Lulubelle and Honey together.  I glare at them both.

‘Well, you don’t – I lived here for a bit – remember?’
Exactly, so Honey should at least be on my side.

‘When did you last take a week off?’ says Nina, frowning.

‘Never,’ says the voice walking in. 
et tu brute
…

‘Flaming heck, Frankie – I’ve been on at you about stress for bleeding months… You should see her,’
Skye tells my friends.  ‘Goes mental if anything goes wrong… and mostly it doesn’t, so she like dreams it up…’

‘I don
’t!  Not at all!’ but my voice peters out as I see them all just looking at me.

‘Okay,’ says Nina calmly. 
So calmly. How does she do that?  ‘So what with your shop, your weddings, marathon training…’

‘Half-marathon,’ I interrupt but she ignores me.

‘Burning the candles at both ends and being an agony Aunt to your friends, and volunteering at the hospice… Oh, your mother too.  Frankie?  Do you ever have a day doing nothing?’

‘Of course not.
  But no-one does - not really. And I need to do all these things…’

But as I look around at my friends, I think actually,
every single one of them’s ahead of me.  They all know where to draw the line to keep them from pitching into the insanity that now surrounds me.  And here I am, thinking that because everything I’m doing has a purpose, it’s fine to overdo it when actually, it’s no more fine than drinking far too much at one of Honey’s dinner parties.  I start to panic.

‘I have a personality disorder, don’t I?  What do you think it is – OCD? 
Bipolar?’  My imagination off and away with me yet again.

‘Frankie – you’re doing it now.  Getting all worked up over nothing.  I think you just need to know where to stop,’ says Nina gently. 

‘Oh.  You think?’  I want to believe her, but maybe, on this occasion, she’s wrong, because after all, even doctors are only human...

‘Yes I do.’

Charlie comes over, taking my hand and leading me over to my sofa.

‘Sit
here,’ she orders - kindly though, not bossily like some people.  She drags a footstool over.  ‘Now put your feet up.’

I do as I’m told, then Lulubelle appears from my kitchen carrying several glasses, opening a bottle of champagne with a flourish and handing me the first glass.

‘Am I allowed?’ I say anxiously.

‘You’re practically teetotal,’ says Honey exasperatedly.  ‘It’ll do you good to loosen up.’

I look at Nina anxiously.

‘
She’s right.’

Okay.  So it’s official.  Flowers screw with your head – well, brides, their mothers, not to mention bridezillas and celebrity secret weddings. The pressure too, of having to absolutely always get it right. If I could only rewind to that moment, years ago, when in her greater wisdom Mrs Orange told me that weddings were too much trouble.  Moreover, if I’d only believed her… But then, if I hadn’t done it I wouldn’t have met so many brilliant people and had a blast. But okay.  Now I do need a rest.

‘Okay,’ I say resignedly.  ‘I give in.  I’ll do it.
  For now…’

The only trouble is when you’ve been rushing about like a blue arsed fly for as long as you can remember,
taking things slowly
isn’t easy.  My friends seem to have drawn up a rota for checking up on me and bringing me supper and DVD’s.

‘I’m not ill,’ I protest, when Nina comes over
, completely with bag of healthy shopping and makes pasta and salad.  ‘This is ridiculous, when you’ve been working all day…’

‘Yes, but I do get weekends off,’ she says pointedly.  ‘And I do actually eat proper meals
, Frankie – I’m not sure
you
do.’

I shut up then because yet again, she’s right, which is really annoying
as I’ve taken to grazing, as I dash here and there.  Anyway, her pasta is delicious.

The next day Charlie comes over for lunch.

‘Frankie – your fridge is full of crap.  I’m taking you to the pub.’

Now
that
sounds like a plan… We only go to the one in the village and have sandwiches, but they’re proper homemade ones, not the plastic ones Mr Crowley sells.

We even have wine – only one glass – while Charlie fills me in on her love life.

‘Mark’s flight gets in tonight.’  She drops it in casually, even though she hasn’t mentioned him for ages.

I shake my head.  ‘I thought that was
over… Haven’t you been seeing other people?’

‘I
have, but… ‘

‘Does he know?’

‘Of course he does – I mean, be practical Frankie.  You can’t really start a relationship from opposite sides of the world… But now he’s going to be here, well, it’s going to be very different.  I’m really excited!’

You could have knocked me down with a feather.  Any of my other friends, may be, but Charlie…

‘Good luck with that,’ I say.  ‘No, really – I mean it.  He looks nice.’  But then I used to think that about Greg and look what a loser he turned out to be.

‘So.
  About you and Alex,’ says Charlie slowly.

‘
There is no me and Alex,’ I say, feeling a tell-tale heat rising in my cheeks.  ‘Nice guy, Charlie – but I’m really not his type.’

But all she does is shake her head.

I know things are serious when my mother makes an appearance.  She’s looking better than the last time I saw her.  Kind of less botoxed and desperate, and far more at home in her own skin.  She looks around my flat, slightly shocked I think, but she takes me out for lunch before she drives back to Brighton.  It might not be much, but for Julia, it’s the most motherly thing she’s ever done for me.

‘Alice mentioned you’d been overdoing it
.’ As she was leaving, she handed me a cheque.  ‘I want you to take a holiday – and please accept it, Frankie.  Giles left me well provided for.  And it’s one thing I
can
do for you.’

‘Wow.’  Slowly I take it from
her, amazed not only at her generosity but that she and Alice have been speaking.  ‘That’s really thoughtful of you.  Thanks Julia.’

Then that evening, after everything I said to Charlie, lo and behold, Alex arrives on my doorstep.  Clutching flowers!

‘I only realised what I’d done after I bought them,’ he says
sheepishly, handing them to me.

‘No-one ever buys me flowers, thank you
so much,’ I say.  It’s true – everyone thinks it’s like taking coals to Newcastle and actually, it really isn’t.  ‘Are you coming in?’

‘Thanks.’

He follows me into the kitchen where I unwrap the cellophane to find little white dendrobium orchids mixed with freesia, which are unlike anything I would choose and smell gorgeous.

‘These are lovely, you shouldn’t have.’

‘Phew.  Glad you like them.  Could have been a bit embarrassing…’

‘So, are you checking up on me?’ I ask him, wondering if he too is on my unofficial list of minders.

‘Absolutely,’ he says.  ‘But I have an ulterior motive…’

‘You do?’  I bat my eyelashes demurely at him.  ‘Which is…?’

‘To take you out for dinner,’ he says.  ‘Only last time didn’t go quite as I’d hoped, you know, what with you passing out and all that. There’s this Italian place in All Hallows – what do you think?’

I think it’s great
, though I can’t for the life of me understand why he’s doing this.  He’s being really nice, but he’s made it clear enough in the past what he thinks of me.

‘I’d love to.  Only do mind if I go and get changed?  I’d prefer not to go out in these…’

I glance down at my checked pyjama bottoms and he grins.

More appropriately attired in jeans and a cotton blouse,
I think nothing of the little shock I get when my arm brushes against his in the car, nor the fact that he takes me to this amazing little bistro, not Domino’s pizza like I expected.

‘This is lovely,’ I tell him, looking around at the bare walls and wood floors.  It’s warm and cosy with delicious food smells wafting out from the kitchen.  We
sit at this little corner table drinking a rather nice chianti, then he leans back and frowns at me.

‘What?’ I say,
squirming uncomfortably under his gaze.

He hesitates.  ‘I er – think I owe you an apology.’  He folds his arms.

Now I wasn’t expecting
that
.  I stare at him, slightly suspiciously.  ‘Are you sure?  Because I can’t think why you would…’

‘I really got you wrong, didn’t I?  I’m not sure quite how that happened, because usually, I get a feeling about people…’

Oh.  That.  And suddenly, I’m in a quandary, because I can accept his apology and leave him none the wiser – or come clean.

I sigh.  ‘Look, you weren’t wrong at all, Alex.  I really am – was – all those things you thought about me. 
Worse, probably.  So you don’t owe me an apology at all.’

He shakes his head.  ‘I see it differently.  When we met that first time, okay, you were hungover, but then everyone has days like that – and you just gave the impression that you
sailed through life in your happy place, oblivious to the misery of the rest of us.’

‘I’m a happy person.  What’s wrong with that?’ I say in a martyred voice.

‘Exactly,’ he leans forward.  ‘Nothing – and it doesn’t mean you don’t do some amazing things, because you do.  Helping at Briarwood, being a good friend… I didn’t see all that.  Not to start with.’

‘Gosh,’ I say, staring at the tablecloth.  ‘But you don’t know the half of it – really
you don’t.  I’m a terrible person.  I threw my ex out when he was homeless.  Then I led Josh on just so I could throw him off the scent of Maria’s wedding… and I did get pissed too much and I’m really a shallow, frivolous sort of person, just so you don’t have any false preconceptions about me. I think I’ve covered the worst things.’

He sits back again,
then he laughs.  After all these months of agonising,
he actually laughs
. 

‘Shall we order?’

After that we talk. 
Properly.  I even tell him about Julia and I get the chance to ask the question I’m itching to ask.

‘So, how long have you had your er, lodger?’ I say casually, through a mouthful of the most delicious spaghetti alle vongole.

‘About a year now. And er, she is just my lodger, just so you know.’

‘So
does that mean you’re single then?’  I ask quietly, hugging myself with glee.

‘It would seem that way – you?’

‘I chucked Greg out months ago,’ I tell him, my heart doing a dance.  ‘No regrets.’  Then realising I sound completely unfeeling, add ‘it was the best thing for both of us.’

‘Quite.’

‘This is delicious,’ I tell him.  ‘I’ve eaten more these last few days than in weeks, what with Nina and Charlie, and now you taking me out…’

‘Good.  Glad you’re enjoying it.’

So full I couldn’t eat another mouthful, it’s late when we
leave there and slowly walk back to his car.  There’s definitely an autumnal feel in the air, and I shiver slightly, pulling my jacket more tightly round me.

‘
Are you cold?’  He slips an arm round my shoulders and my body responds to his so strongly that suddenly I’m anything but.

‘You know they’re
all worried about you, don’t you?  Your friends?’

‘They really don’t need to be.  I’m much better,’ I tell him.

‘Maybe you need someone to keep an eye on you,’ he suggests.

‘God
, no!  I lived with Honey for quite long enough, thank you and they’re all fussing round like mother hens as it is…’

‘
I wasn’t thinking about Honey.’

‘Oh…’  I’m slightly shocked. 
And confused.  In fact, just what is he suggesting?  But when he stops under the dim glow of a streetlamp and pulls me towards him, I find out.

And w
ith his lips on mine, my heart practically bursts out of my chest at that point. 
Oh my God!  He’s kissing me…

And
as I melt against him, suddenly, I realise I was right.  When it happens, you
know
.  That this, here, with Alex, is exactly how it should be, in the arms of someone who really cares, someone I truly belong with.

‘So what do you say?’ he says softly,
pulling away just slightly and gazing at me.

‘Um, I suppose we could try it,’ I say casually.  ‘I just need to be sure you’re not too bossy or anything… Actually, I need to be
quite sure about the whole kissing thing too – would you mind?’

And he doesn’t – not one bit.

I
t’s been an extraordinary week and I really am walking on air, though I suddenly remember I’ve been ignoring my sister and on Thursday night, my first alone in ages, I call her.

‘Hello?  Alice?  It’s me…’

‘Oh
Frankie
…’ she says, sounding sleepy.  ‘It’s late...  Can’t you ring in the morning?’

‘I just wanted to know if you’re in this Saturday, that’s all.’  Huffily – she doesn’t even sound that pleased it’s me.

‘I’m going out – but Dave and Martha will be here.’

‘I was wondering – could I borrow Martha? 
For the day?’

‘Can’t we talk about this tomorrow?’  She yawns down the phone at me.

‘Is that a yes, Al?’  I’m dying to tell her about Alex, but it’ll have to wait until she’s fully conscious.

‘Ok.’