Page 46 of The Little Flower Shop By the Sea
Charlie briefly turns his head to look at me, but doesn’t ask any further questions. And I like him all the more for that.
‘You gonna go back in?’ he asks, with a nod in the direction of the shop.
I shake my head. ‘Not right now.’
‘Probably best, looking at the state of you,’ Charlie says. ‘You’re mighty white. You wanna go for a walk – get some air?’
‘I would love to.’ I smile gratefully. ‘But it’s my shop, I can’t just leave everyone.’
‘Ah…’ Charlie says knowingly. ‘And there was me thinking you were a bit of a rebel with your black clothes and your Docs ’n’ all.’
I stare at him. ‘Say that again.’
He looks puzzled. ‘Which part? About your Docs?’
I shake my head.
‘Oh… about you being a rebel?’ He grins. ‘So you are one then?’
I glance into the shop, and amongst all the people I can just make out my grandmother’s wooden desk, and for a brief moment I’m transported back in time…
‘Charlie Asher, you’re about to find out.’
Sixteen
Periwinkle – Tender Recollections
Charlie and I run off together like a couple of school kids – well, technically Charlieisa school kid, but I don’t want to think about that now – along the harbour, back out through the town and up Pengarthen Hill towards the cliffs that tower above St Felix Bay.
I know I shouldn’t have run off like that, not on our opening day, but if I’d stayed inside the shop in amongst the flowers and the crowds I would have passed out. It’s happened before, and I don’t want people making a fuss. It’s bad enough I have these issues, without everyone knowing about it. I’ve been dealing with it pretty much on my own for fifteen years, and aside from the odd therapist I’d spent time with, I had no intention of sharing my reasons why I felt like this with anyone.
The wind high up on the cliffs is strong and gusty, and it blows my hair around my face so much I have to keep pushing it away so I can see where we’re going. But I don’t care; up here all those feelings of nausea and dizziness have gone. In fact they disappeared practically the moment we ran from the shop.
‘Where are we going?’ I ask Charlie, as eventually we stop climbing the footpath that leads up and away from St Felix, and he begins to cut across the grass towards the sea.
‘You’ll see,’ he says. ‘Be careful though, the ground is a bit unstable underfoot.’
I stop for a moment to look around. We’ve reached a sort of junction in the footpath; one way leads up to Trecarlan Castle, and the other further along the cliffs.
I hesitate, debating which route to take – the castle holds such special memories for me, I must take time to go up and visit while I’m here. It’s not far away from this spot at all.
But Charlie has stepped off the path and is rapidly descending the grassy slope of the cliff, so I begin to follow him, watching my footing as I go. But when I next look up, Charlie has disappeared.
‘Charlie?’ I call out. Where has he gone?
I’m beginning to have visions of him lying in a crumpled heap at the bottom of the cliffs when I hear his voice.
‘Down here, Poppy!’
I can just see the top of his blond head poking up from below me.
‘How did you get down there?’ I ask, sitting down on a grassy mound on the side of the cliff so I can edge forward enough to see where he is.
‘Look to the left of you,’ he calls. ‘There’s some rough steps carved into the side of the cliff. If you take those – carefully, mind – it’ll bring you down here.’
I look where he suggests and find there are indeed some worn stone steps half-hidden by the long grass and wild flowers that have grown up around them.
I clutch the tufts of grass on the side of the cliff as I descend gingerly down the narrow steps, making sure I have a secure foothold before I attempt the next. We are perilously close to the cliff edge here and the jagged rocks that poke up menacingly from the waves that crash below me. So it’s not until I get to the very bottom step, and on to firm ground again, that I dare to look up properly.
