Page 93 of Best Summer Ever

‘My pleasure.’ Nick smiled. ‘You know, Penny will doubtless be wanting you to supply the flowers for the wedding.’

‘Have you already set a date?’ I asked, wide-eyed.

‘Not quite,’ he told me, ‘but we’re thinking late next May or early to mid-June.’

I was thrilled they weren’t wasting any time in tying the knot and also pleased they’d picked a time when I could guarantee them flowers from Wynbrook.

‘Oh, Nick.’

‘I know,’ he said. ‘I can’t believe it. I love her so much, you know…’

‘I know you do,’ I said, rubbing his arm.

‘And,’ he then mischievously added, ‘I think there’s someone who has deeper feelings for you than they might be letting on…’

‘Oh?’ I squeaked.

‘You’re all Josh talks about—’ he started to say, but I cut him off.

‘Summer fling, remember?’ I said firmly. ‘Now, I must quickly tell Algy that I caught sight of the cat this morning.’

I rushed off before Nick could say anything further.

‘That certainly sounds like her,’ Algy said happily, once I had described the fleeting glimpse I’d had of the tiny black cat sitting on one of the rocking chairs when I left the summerhouse that morning.

Algy had joined me and Dad in the walled garden to mark the moment the courtyard clock struck ten and Wynbrook Blooms officially launched. He’d called the local press, but no one had turned up and there were no customers clamouring to form a queue either.

‘Not quite the fanfare I was hoping for…’ I started to say, but then a couple looked cautiously around the gate and Algy beckoned them in and an entire family, grandparents and children included, also arrived.

‘You were saying,’ Dad said and smiled as I stepped up to tell the visitors all about the beautiful Wynbrook Blooms venture and ask if there were any flowers they would like to buy.

At the end of Friday afternoon, I closed the garden and walked up to the manor to let Algy know how the first three days of trading had gone.

‘So,’ he said morosely when he caught sight of me, ‘screaming success or unmitigated disaster?’

I looked at him and frowned. Mum had said his mood had taken a nosedive again over the last couple of days, but I hadn’t seen him to observe it firsthand. Until now.

‘Oh, don’t mind me,’ he huffed. ‘I’m just in a bit of a fug.’

‘It sounds like more than a bit,’ I observed. ‘What’s up?’

‘Never mind,’ he made the effort to say more brightly. ‘So, what’s the verdict?’

He obviously wasn’t in the mood to share whatever it was that had put him in such a stroppy place, so I told him about the flowers instead, as had been my original plan.

‘I think it’s a bit early to say whether it will be a runaway success,’ I told him, as I recalled everything that had occurred so far. ‘But the good news is, there’s been a steady and increasing footfall each day.’

‘Right,’ Algy said with a nod.

‘And I can already tell there are going to be a few flowers we’re going to need a lot more of next year,’ I continued.

‘Next year,’ Algy echoed, sounding wistful.

‘We could sell double the amount of sweet peas. Probably more like triple, actually,’ I told him enthusiastically. ‘For the project to really succeed, I reckon we’re going to need to double the space given over to growing the flowers that you’ve got so far. Is there any other area on the estate, but relatively close to the garden, that you might consider turning over to it?’

I stopped to draw breath and realised he didn’t seem to be listening.

‘Algy? Are you all right?’

---