Page 52 of The Little Flower Shop By the Sea
‘I thought you were going to pass out on me back there,’ he says, nodding at the shop.
‘I probably would have if you hadn’t got me out. Sorry.’
‘Nothing to apologise for. We all have our demons.’
I wonder what he means.
‘I’ll be fine, really,’ I say, attempting to stand up, but I wobble slightly.
Jake catches hold of my arm. ‘Steady! Let me walk you back to Daisy Chain.’
‘No!’ I almost cry, thinking of the sweet flower scent that would only make things worse. ‘I mean, no, I’d rather take a walk – get some sea air, you know?’
‘Sure,’ Jake says, and with his arm linked firmly around mine we begin to walk down towards the harbour.
‘You know when you nearly fainted earlier,’ Jake asks after we’ve walked all the way along to the end of the harbour and the small lighthouse that proudly stands ready to guide the fishing boats into St Felix, ‘that was your problem with crowds again – yes?’
I nod.
Now that I’ve recovered, I’m mortified at my little episode, and how Jake had to rescue me from a bunch of school children.
In one day I’d come up against both myphobias– I hated calling them that – and Jake had witnessed it. Having a problem with crowds meant I invariably became centre of attention when I had one of my panic attacks and I found it excruciatingly embarrassing. My issues with fresh flowers I always kept well hidden. People had a certain amount of sympathy for you if they understood your phobia. The more common varieties, like agoraphobia and claustrophobia, were well known and peoplegotwhy someone might be terrified. Fear of spiders, birds or certain animals – yes, that was understood too. But someone who has an irrational fear of flowers? That was just weird.
One of my therapists had informed me that the correct term for my anxiety was anthophobia – fear of flowers. But knowing it has an official name doesn’t make me feel any better or able to share my concerns with anyone. I know why I don’t like flowers, and no amount of therapy or counselling is going to change that.
We lean against the railings at the end of the harbour and look out at the sea. It’s high tide, and the waves are crashing against the harbour wall, sending spray up and over the rails. It feels fresh and revitalising against my skin. The glorious sunshine has given way to grey clouds that are being blown across the sky by a gusty wind.
‘Are you claustrophobic as well?’ Jake asks. ‘Did being in that small shop bother you when it got busy?’
‘No, it wasn’t that. Look, do you mind if we don’t talk about this, please? I’m feeling much better.’
‘Sure, if that’s what you want.’ Jake turns so we’re both facing out to sea, both leaning up against the green railings, both getting splashed with the salty spray.
‘It’s just you said you’d had therapy before and I wondered —’
‘Did I not just say I didn’t want to talk about this?’ I snap, and immediately feel bad. Jake has been very kind, he doesn’t deserve this. ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to snap at you,’ I tell him. ‘I don’t like talking about my problems, that’s all.’
‘Sure, I understand.’ Jake nods, but doesn’t look at me.
A silence falls between us, broken only by the sounds of the sea, brazenly continuing to batter the wall below.
‘There’s no shame in having had therapy,’ Jake says, obviously deciding to ignore my request. ‘I had therapy when Felicity… left.’
I notice he saysleftand notdied.
Knowing how therapy works, I wonder if this deliberate choice of words is the result of one of those sessions.
‘I know, Charlie told me earlier.’ I immediately regret saying that. What if Charlie didn’t want his dad to find out he’d shared that information.
Jake looks surprised. ‘Did he?’
‘Yes. He said you all had. But he thought Miley had probably done you more good than any therapy session. Where is she, by the way?’
‘With Bronte. Miley and supermarkets don’t go well together.’ Jake thinks for a moment. ‘Charlie is probably right though, about Miley. Of course I had the kids, and they were a great help; we all supported each other. But Miley gave me something new to think about, something that didn’t remind me of Felicity.’ He smiles ruefully. ‘That little monkey needed a lot of work in those early days – she kept us busy.’
‘I can imagine.’
‘It gave me a focus, and boy did I need something to focus on. I think I’d have gone off the rails if it wasn’t for her.’
