Page 6 of The Little Flower Shop By the Sea
‘You think I’m a criminal? If I was, I wouldn’t be a very smart one: there’s nothing here to take.’
‘You’d also be a noisy one.’
I stare at him blankly.
‘I was walking down the street and heard the crash from outside,’ he explains. ‘That’s why I came in to investigate.’
I glance at where I’d knocked over the pot earlier. ‘Oh…I see.’
‘So whatareyou doing then?’ He stands with his legs apart and his arms folded.The classic male defensive position. One of my early therapists was a body-language expert – she taught me a lot.
I sigh, and jingle a set of keys at him. ‘New owner, aren’t I?’
He looks surprised at this. ‘I thought Rose’s granddaughter was taking over the shop.’
‘How do you know that?’ I demand.
‘Her mother phoned and told me to expect her. I’m Jake Asher, I own the local flower nursery.’
‘Oh,you’reJake!’
‘Yes…’ Jake says, looking puzzled. ‘And you are…?’ But he quickly holds up his hand before I can speak. ‘No, wait,youmust be Rose’s granddaughter.’ He nods confidently. ‘Yes, that would explain it.’
‘Explain what?’
‘Nothing, just something your mum said on the phone about your temperament…’
He tails off as I narrow my eyes at him.
‘Perhaps we’d better start again, hmm?’ he says, holding out his hand. ‘Welcome to St Felix.’
I eye him suspiciously before taking his hand, which is surprisingly large. His fingers wrap themselves around my hand and shake it.
‘Thanks.’
Suddenly there’s a rustling from the top of one of the wooden cabinets, and in the shadows I can just make out something climbing down the shelves.
‘What the hell is that?’ I cry out, about to duck back down behind the desk.
‘It’s OK,’ Jake says, holding out his arm. ‘It’s just Miley.’
Something jumps from the shelves and lands on Jake’s shoulder.
‘Is that a monkey?’ I ask in astonishment, still not quite able to see properly in the unlit shop.
‘She is indeed.’ Jake moves towards the door and flicks on the shop lights. ‘A capuchin monkey, to be precise.’
‘But why?’ I ask, still staring at the tiny, furry creature.
She eyes me warily, while licking her left paw.
‘Why is she a capuchin? Because Mummy monkey and Daddy monkey got together and —’
‘Funny. No, I mean why have you got a monkey? Isn’t it cruel to keep them as pets?’
‘Normally I’d agree with you.’ Jake rubs the monkey under her chin, and she nuzzles into his hand. ‘But Miley is different. She was trained to be a helper monkey over in the States for people with disabilities, but she didn’t quite make the grade. She was a bit too rebellious for the charity’s liking. But she couldn’t be put back into the wild, or into a wildlife park, because she’s too humanised. So when friends of mine who live over in the US told me her story, I agreed to take her.’ Miley strokes Jake’s sandy-coloured hair, then to my horror she begins to preen him.
I pull a face.
