Page 19 of The Little Flower Shop By the Sea
Belle moves along the bar to take a look.
‘But you don’t like it though, do you?’ I persist, the feminist in me bubbling to the surface.
‘What?’ he asks, turning back to me.
‘The thought of me buying you a drink?’
‘I can’t say I’ve given the thought of you buying me a drink any consideration, since we only met for the first time this afternoon. Oh look, Belle’s waving, she’s got that table.’
Jake summons Miley and starts to make his way across to the other side of the pub, so I have no choice but to follow him. Oh my God he can be so irritating. How did he always seem to get the better of me, whatever I said? And more to the point, why did I care so much about someone who, as he had quite rightly pointed out a few seconds ago, I’d only just met?
‘So what are you going to do with the flower shop?’ Belle asks after we’ve been sat down a while.
I’d misjudged Belle when I’d first met her. Aside from her perfection, and her obvious interest in Jake, she is very nice. Belle seems to be one of those very irritating, naturally pretty people that you want to hate, but can’t find any reason to.
‘I’m not sure right now,’ I reply truthfully in answer to her question. ‘The shop stirs up a lot of memories for me – some good, some bad. Part of me would be relieved to see the back of it, but then another part…’
‘Doesn’t want to let it go?’ Belle answers knowingly.
I nod. ‘Yes. However, what I do know is I’m not really cut out for selling flowers, it’s definitely not my thing.’
‘What makes you say that?’ she asks, sounding genuinely interested.
‘I just know,’ I tell her, without explaining further. ‘Whatever happens with the shop, me and flowers – it’s never going to happen.’
Jake smiles into his beer.
‘What’s so amusing?’ I ask.
‘Nothing,’ he says, swilling his pint around, still grinning. But then he changes his mind and looks up at me. ‘Well… you actually.’
‘Go on,’ I tell him, as my arms automatically fold across my body protectively. I lean back in my chair and I raise one eyebrow.
Teresa, my current therapist, would have a fit if she could see me now. This was exactly the type of pose she’d spent months easing me out of adopting every time I felt threatened. That was the next stage after coming up with strategies to prevent me from verbally attacking anyone who I felt criticised me in any way.
‘For someone so young, you’re very set in your ways,’ Jake says, regarding me thoughtfully.
I’m unsure which part of his statement to tackle first, so I take both at the same time. ‘Firstly, I’m not sure what you mean by young? I’m thirty, so I’m hardly a teenager.’ Both Belle and Jake look astonished by this. Which does not surprise me; most people think I’m younger than I am. I guess I should be flattered. ‘And as for “set in my ways”,’ I continue, before Jake can speak, ‘what about you, back there at the bar?’ I gesture towards Rita, who’s pulling a pint. ‘“I can’t have ladies buying me drinks,”’ I say in a deep, dull-sounding voice, supposedly mimicking Jake, when really he sounds nothing like this at all. His voiceisdeep, but it’s also gentle and soft at the same time. ‘However,’ I eye Jake across the table, ‘I guess you can’t help being stuck in your ways when you reach your age, can you?’
Belle sits with her empty wine glass held up to her lips, her mouth open in astonishment as she witnesses my acerbic response.
Jake watches me, his impassive face not telling me anything at all.
‘I’m forty this year, since we’re sharing birthdays,’ he says steadily. ‘Don’t worry about a card though, and I know you won’t be sending flowers. It’s notyour thing, is it?’
Damn, he’s got me again!
I’m about to reply when I feel a tap on my shoulder.
I turn to find a small, slim woman with auburn hair pulled up into a tight chignon standing behind me. She’s wearing a navy cardigan, a white blouse, a string of tiny pearls around her neck, and tan three-quarter-length trousers with flat black pumps.
‘Caroline Harrington-Smythe,’ she says, thrusting a cold hand into mine.
‘Hi…’ I reply, cautiously shaking her hand.
‘You know who I am, obviously, so I won’t go through the formal introductions. Jake, Belle,’ she says, nodding curtly at them both.
‘Actually, I don’t,’ I say, feeling like I should put my hand up before I ask her a question.
