Page 4 of Flowers Go Flying in Crumbleton

‘Good call,’ said Jo, nodding.

‘Seriously Jo,’ said Milly, ‘brace yourself when you carry this one in.’ She couldn’t help it. Images of Jo dropping the armful of bright blooms on the way across the hotel carpark had just started flashing in her head.

‘You can trust me, you know,’ said Jo.

‘Yeah - I know,’ said Milly with a smile as she rummaged for a larger vase. ‘I wouldn’t even trust myself with this one – it’s super heavy!’

‘Just as well you’ve got my muscles on the job then,’ said Jo, flexing a skull-and-crossbones-clad bicep at her. ‘You sure you don’t want a lift down the hill in the van?’

‘Nah – thanks,’ said Milly, shaking her head. The last thing she wanted to do was get locked in the van with Jo right now… she was so nervous, she was bound to spill the beans about Murray! ‘I’m looking forward to a walk!’

‘That’s it,’ said Jo. ‘There’s definitely something up with you. Voluntary exercise? Whatever next?!’

‘You’re fired!’ said Milly.

‘Yeah, yeah,’ said Jo, hefting the bouquet carefully into its new vase. ‘So you keep telling me.’

CHAPTER 2

MURRAY

‘Stupid… stupid… stupid suit!’ Murray puffed with every uncomfortable flick of his oars.

He was doing his best, but it turned out that rowing a tiny boat through the brackish waters of Crumbleton’s salt marshes while wearing a neatly tailored morning suit was a lot trickier than he’d anticipated.

Maybe this was the reason he never wore a suit – let alone one with tails. The blasted thing hadn’t seen the light of day for well over a decade and, if he had his way, it would be at least twice as long again before it made another appearance.

Unfortunately, he didn’t have much choice in the matter right now, though. His usual uniform of shorts and a scruffy tee-shirt wasn’t going to cut it. He was the best man, after all!

Murray still wasn’t quite sure why Philip had asked him to be his best man. Sure, he was on good terms with his old school friend, but the guy definitely had many other – much closer – mates. Josh was the obvious choice. The pair of them had been practically inseparable for years. They played football together, did the whole Friday night at the pub thing, and had even gone on holiday with various girlfriend combinations over the years. As far as Murray knew, the bride liked Josh too… whereas he’d never even met the woman.

Before accepting, Murray had tentatively suggested Josh as a more suitable candidate for the role. Philip had gone very quiet and then – after a pregnant pause - he’d simply repeated his request in a louder voice.

When someone bellowed “WILL YOU BE MY BEST MAN OR NOT?” at you, you couldn’t really say no, could you? Besides – Murray had never been a best man before - and he was a big fan of giving things a go at least once if the opportunity presented itself.

Like kissing a beautiful stranger in a dark hotel carpark!

A huge grin appeared on Murray’s face. He knew he probably looked like a total weirdo right now, but there was no one around to judge him other than a heron… and she was more interested in hunting for tasty morsels in the murky water than paying any attention to what his soppy face was doing.

Murray let out a long sigh. As random experiences went, his stolen kiss with Crumbleton’s beautiful florist was definitely one of his favourites. It had happened well over a year ago now – but it still popped into his head at least once a day.

Who was he kidding? At least once every hour was more like it!

It had just been so completely unexpected. He’d ducked out of a decidedly stuffy town planning event at the Dolphin and Anchor for a breath of fresh air, only to discover that she’d had exactly the same idea. He’d barely had the chance to say hello before she’d turned to him and pulled him into a hard, desperate kiss – a kiss that had haunted him ever since.

Murray gave a wriggle of excitement and pulled on the oars a bit harder than his straining suit could handle. There was an ominous ripping sound from somewhere around the back.

‘Oops,’ he muttered, carefully shortening his strokes again, doing his best to ignore the fact that his heart was hammering, and his hands were starting to feel clammy with nervous excitement. Not only was he heading back to the scene of the kiss… he was finally going to get the chance to speak to the woman who’d taken up residence in his head!

As much as Murray adored living in a grounded trawler on Crumbleton’s salt marshes - surrounded by frogs and birds, peace and quiet – there were a couple of drawbacks. Having to row everywhere was one of them. The other was the fact that he got very little opportunity to bump into anyone “by accident.” By “anyone”, he meant Milly Rowlands, of course.

After that wonderful, insane, unexpected kiss – she’d slipped back inside the hotel without a single word… and Murray had been wishing for the chance to get to know her ever since.

He’d certainly made a few more visits to town over the last eighteen months than were strictly necessary… not that any of them had achieved much other than making him feel like a total idiot.

The one time he’d managed to summon the courage to go to her shop with the sole purpose of introducing himself properly, he’d been bounced at by a purple-haired whirlwind who’d informed him that Milly was out doing deliveries. Murray had promptly bought a random bunch of purple irises as an excuse for going in, and then skulked away, feeling like a total fool. That day, he’d made himself a promise that he’d forget the whole thing.

A promise he’d failed to keep.

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