Page 20 of Flowers Go Flying in Crumbleton

‘No chance,’ said Murray, listening as Caroline reeled off her phone number before hanging up.

Thankfully, that was the end of the messages, and Murray hit the “delete all” button with an added flourish of his middle finger when the machine asked him if he’d like to listen to them again.

So much for anyone caring if he was actually okay. Sure, he was a bit embarrassed about the whole thing, but he could have been seriously hurt for all any of them knew… not that any of them had bothered to ask.

He huffed, this time at himself for being such a needy wet blanket. Plus, he wasn’t being fair – at least Caroline Cook had said she hoped that he was okay! Plus… she’d mentioned Milly. Not that he was going to think about that right now.

Heading over to the cupboard, Murray started to rummage around for a big, fluffy bath towel – doing his best to pretend Milly’s name wasn’t still ringing in his ears. He’d had such high hopes for the weekend. He didn’t really know why he’d thought it would finally be his chance to meet her properly… and maybe even do something about his ridiculous mega-crush.

Somehow, Murray got the feeling he was going to remember this wedding forever – but not for the reason he’d been hoping. He hadn’t even had the chance to speak to Milly before being carted off in an ambulance. She was the only reason he’d agreed to be a part of the whole thing in the first place, and he’d blown it. Maybe it just wasn’t meant to be. Maybe the kiss they’d shared was it for them – the sum total of their connection.

Murray’s shoulders slumped, and his headache ramped up again – thrumming against his skull with renewed vigour.

Maybe it was all for the best. What did he have to offer someone like Milly anyway? He lived in an abandoned boat, for goodness’ sake! She wouldn’t be interested in an idiot like him!

Slinging the towel over his shoulder, Murray headed for the shower, feeling decidedly depressed.

CHAPTER 9

MILLY

Maybe borrowing the council’s knackered old rowing boat wasn’t the best idea she’d ever had. It was always tied up at the wharf, available for anyone to use in case of emergency (usually involving stranded sheep or drunken shenanigans). It was mainly used by birdwatchers these days, but if the layer of weeds growing inside it was anything to go by, it hadn’t been taken out for a while.

Milly let out a low stream of swear words as the boat scooted around in the muddy water, arcing in a stubborn circle as it refused to obey her commands.

‘Forwards, you stupid thing,’ she growled. ‘Preferably in a straight line!’

Okay, so maybe her plan had a few flaws. She’d never been particularly good at rowing, but as far as she knew, there wasn’t another way to get to Murray’s trawler. Why he couldn’t live on dry land like everyone else was beyond her. What was wrong with a nice, normal house anyway?

‘Will… you… just... behave?!’ she grunted, yanking on the oars and then almost dropping one as the boat wobbled precariously.

Milly really needed to get this situation under control before it ended in disaster. After all, she’d been brought up in Crumbleton, so it wasn’t as though she’d never been out on a boat before. She’d paddled around the marshes plenty of times as a kid. It had just been… a while!

‘Okay, okay, that’s more like it!’ she cheered as she found a slightly deeper channel of water, and the boat began to glide forward. Now all she had to do was stay calm until she got there.

Calm. Right. Because that was easy to achieve when she was about to turn up at Murray’s home – uninvited - after a bouquet she’d created had landed him in hospital. Oh, and not to forget - the pair of them didn’t actually know each other. In fact, there was a good chance he might not even recognise her.

‘Breathe!’ Milly hissed at herself.

Maybe it was time to search for a few positives in this hair-brained plan of hers – just to give herself something to cling to as she rowed.

Positive number one – according to Caroline, Murray was out of hospital. Unfortunately, this titbit had come at a high price. Milly’s clumsy attempts at extracting information had been no match for Caroline’s finely tuned Spidey-senses. In the end, she’d been forced to own up to her long-held crush… and the kiss that had started the whole thing before Caroline would agree to help her.

Still, it had worked a treat. After going all soppy for a few seconds, her friend had called the ward and pretended to be Murray’s sister, before reporting straight back to Milly. By the sound of things, he should already be home.

Positive number two – she was being proactive! After eighteen months of wishing and dreaming and sighing and hoping that something might happen with Murray, Milly was finally on her way to talk to him. Sure… it was so that she could apologise for playing a part in a possible concussion… but it was a starting point, right?

Milly had left Jo in charge of the shop, with detailed instructions on how to lock up if she wasn’t back in time. She’d then dashed in and out of the shops on her way down the hill, filling a bag with basic groceries – including cake. Cake always made things better!

Positive number three? At least there wasn’t anyone around to witness what a prat she was making out of herself in this stupid boat!

Blowing out an exhausted breath, Milly pulled on the oars again. This was much harder than she remembered. She had hoped it would all come back to her – like riding a bike or something… but at this rate, she’d arrive at Murray’s place in a hot, sweaty state of disrepair.

If she could find his place!

This was another thing she hadn’t thought through properly. Even though she had a rough idea where the trawler was, the marshes were always changing… and they were vast! Plus, everything looked very different from her perch at water level. It was a lot harder to see where she was going with all the stupid bloody rushes and tufts of grass blocking the view.

It was fine. Of course she’d find it!

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