Page 64 of The Little Flower Shop By the Sea
‘What harm could it do? Look at it this way, Poppy: St Felix needs an injection of something or we’re going to lose even more of the businesses on Harbour Street soon. Maybe a magical flower shop could be just the thing we need to bring people in. You said yourself the town is already a healing place – this could fit really well.’
‘I don’t know…’ Much as I adored Amber, her spiritual healing ways didn’t sit well with me.
‘Your grandmother was a very smart woman, Poppy,’ Jake says. ‘If she thought this worked, you can bet your life it did.’
‘You’re right about her being smart. She was definitely that – and loving and kind. I miss her,’ I say, surprising myself by this admission.
‘You remind me of her – a lot,’ Jake says, putting the book back down on the table. ‘Not just on the outside, I mean in here, too.’ Jake taps his fingers lightly on my chest, and I’m sure he must be able to feel my heart pounding away.
‘I hardly think so,’ I say quickly. ‘My grandmother was a great woman. I’m nothing like she was.’
‘Oh, you are, Poppy,’ Jake insists, lifting his hand away. ‘I can tell.’
Suddenly, without consulting my brain, which would definitely have told me a very emphatic no!, I lean forward on the sofa and kiss Jake. Not on the cheek this time, but right on his lips.
I feel him hesitate for a split second, then he responds. But just as I’m happily sinking into this heavenly feeling of being so close to Jake, I feel him pull away from me.
‘I… I really have to go!’ he says, standing up so suddenly he almost spills his coffee. ‘I should be getting back to the shop – Miley… you know how she is.’
‘Oh… right, yes, of course,’ I reply, my cheeks redder than the scarlet cushion Jake’s just vacated on the sofa. As I stare at it, the imprint of his belt still remains in the fabric.
‘I’m sorry, Poppy,’ Jake says softly, sounding apologetic now rather than panicked. ‘I’m not ready for this. It’s too soon.’
I look up at him. ‘After Felicity, you mean?’ I ask, surprising myself again, this time at my bluntness.
He nods.
‘But it’s been five years, hasn’t it?’
‘It could be ten for all it matters,’ he says, his forehead wrinkling with concern. ‘I just can’t. Maybe not ever… Do you understand?’
It’s my turn to nod.
‘Sure, I understand. Perhaps it’s better if you just leave then.’
I turn and look out of the French windows. The sun has disappeared behind a bank of dark clouds. They hover ominously in the sky, predicting unsettled conditions to come.
And as I hear the front door of the cottage open and close, my feelings are a perfect match for the weather.
Twenty-two
Trachelium – Neglected Beauty
I sit alone in the cottage for a while, nursing my wounds and trying to get over my embarrassment – what was I thinking of, kissing Jake? He quite obviously isn’t ready for a relationship, and now he’s told me he probably never will be. I decide I’d better head back to the shop to see Amber and check on Basil.
So I change out of Amber’s sweatshirt and into my usual black, trying not to think about the compliments Jake had paid me when I’d been wearing it. Then I gather up the accounts books and mooch back to the shop, wearing the huge mac I’d hidden under the first night I arrived in St Felix. Hiding not only from the rain, which is pelting down on to the cobbles of Harbour Street, but anyone who might want to talk to me too.
Jake’s rejection has hit me hard. This is why I never allow myself to get involved with people – they always let you down. I’d stupidly allowed myself to have feelings for Jake, feelings he obviously didn’t reciprocate, and as always I was the one who had ended up getting hurt.
Amber and I spend the rest of the afternoon in the shop together. I try not to let my mood dictate our afternoon, but Amber knows me too well, and her constant attempts to find out what is wrong are admirable, but exasperating at the same time.
I wasn’t telling anyone what had happened at the cottage with Jake. Living through that rejection once had been bad enough, but twice? It wasn’t going to happen.
The awful weather leads to a dearth of customers in the afternoon, and this gives me the ideal opportunity to talk to Amber about the shop and how it’s doing. It also diverts attention from my troubles for a while.
‘So what are we going to do?’ I ask Amber when I’ve gone over the last six weeks’ sales figures with her. ‘I know you keep saying it will pick up, but it’s not.’
Amber sighs. Always one to look on the bright side, even she looks worried. ‘Maybe when the tourists arrive in the school holidays?’ she suggests.
