Page 113 of The Little Flower Shop By the Sea
‘Sure, thanks very much, Johnny,’ he says, and disappears into the house.
Right, now what? I wonder, feeling a little lost without Jake by my side. The sun has completely dipped in the sky, and it’s looking like we’ll have a beautiful sunset later.
Deciding I need to find somewhere to hide with Miley until Jake comes back, I take a look around me, but all I can see are immaculately kept lawns, trees and flower beds. I can hardly keep Miley amused behind a bush, she’s already wriggling in my arms, so I let her climb up on my shoulder, and she settles for the moment.
‘Right, you,’ I whisper to her, ‘let’s see if we can find somewhere to go.’
We creep carefully along the perimeter of the garden, avoiding any open spaces, so if necessary we can hide behind something if anyone should appear. We’ve nearly run out of places to go when I spot a pretty flower-covered arbour with a bench beneath, tucked away at the end of the garden.
‘That will do,’ I tell Miley, heading over there. ‘Now,’ I say, sitting down on the bench. ‘You behave while Jake is away, you hear?’
Miley jumps up on to the trelliswork that surrounds the seat, and immediately climbs all along the clematis that covers it. Then she picks one of the many purple flowers and jumps down to hand it to me.
‘Thank you,’ I tell her, taking the flower. ‘That’s very sweet of you.’ Suddenly I realise what I’m doing: I’m completely surrounded by flowers, and the sight and smell of them isn’t making me feel nauseous. I look at the flower in my hand, then I lift it to my nose. Even this close, the scent isn’t bothering me.
I think about how I’ve been with flowers recently. Apart from the isolated incident at Jake’s nursery, the ones in the shop really haven’t been bothering me for quite some time. I’ve been so focused on Amber and her special bouquets, events at Trecarlan, the Victorian pictures, and helping Stan, I haven’t noticed how at ease I’ve become with them. I recall what I said to Bronte, about our brains only being able to hold on to so much information before they had to let some go. Had the part of my brain that detested flowers been squeezed out by more important concerns? It had taken this simple gesture of Miley’s to put it all into perspective for —
Miley!
I look up at the trellis, but I can’t see her. So I stand up and look on top of the arbour, but she’s not there either.
I search the area we’ve been sitting in, calling her name as quietly as I can.
Damn. Damn. Damn. Where has she gone?
The light is fading fast, and there’s a very definite pink tinge to the sky as I desperately search the garden, no longer worrying whether I’m seen. I have to find Miley; Jake will never speak to me again if I’ve lost her. I think about Basil and how I’d feel if someone lost him while they’d been taking care of him, and my heart tugs at the thought of losing my special friend.
But then I spot her, sitting like an unusual weather vane on top of a modern-looking red-brick outbuilding. I hurry over before she can disappear again.
‘Miley!’ I hiss. ‘Come down here this minute!’
But she just sits on top of the building preening herself.
I try to think what Jake does when he wants her to come to him. So I hold out my arm, like a keeper summoning a great bird of prey.
‘Please, Miley!’ I call. ‘Come down now.’
Miley looks at me inquisitively.
‘We can go and see Basil later if you come down?’ I offer, hoping the mention of her hero might help.
To my surprise it does! She swings herself gracefully down from the roof, and into my arms.
‘You terror,’ I tell her, giving her a tickle. ‘I thought I’d lost you.’
I’m about to move away from the building and head back towards the house, hoping that Jake might be finished with Caroline by now, when I spot something through one of the windows.
Attached to the walls of the outbuilding are a number of long shelves, a bit like the ones in the cellar at Trecarlan, and stacked neatly on top of each one are rows and rows of green and brown wine bottles.
‘Gee, that place is stocked pretty tightly,’ I tell Miley, ‘it’s like their own private off-licence. They must like a drink!’
Like a drink…I’m about to turn away, when I remember all the bottles missing from the cellar at Trecarlan, when Stan had clearly told me there would be wine stored in the racks, so I take a closer look.
‘Come on, Miley,’ I tell her, as we turn away and head purposefully for the house. ‘We are going to pay Mrs Harrington-Smythe a quick visit.’
Thirty-nine
Orchid – Refined Beauty
