Page 92 of The Little Flower Shop By the Sea
‘Amber, we all love having you here in St Felix,’ Jake adds. ‘And Poppy’s mother is right: you’re safe here with us. St Felix is very good at healing old wounds. I can vouch for that.’
Amber squeezes both our hands, then pulls them away to grab her bottle.
‘Then let’s raise a toast to St Felix,’ she says. ‘I don’t want to remember this evening in a negative way – the wedding has been too beautiful and too romantic to finish it on a sour note. Come on, let’s raise our glasses!’
As Amber quickly opens another bottle, we each grab a mug or glass and hold it out to be filled.
‘To St Felix,’ Amber says, as we all lift our glasses. ‘To its wonderful healing ways, its gorgeous views, and its lovely, lovely people! I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else in the world right now. And,’ she continues, just as we’re about to take a sip of our wine, ‘to love. Let love always find a way of finding us!’
‘To love!’ we all agree, and I can’t help taking a quick glance at Jake.
And I’m surprised to see he’s doing the same to me.
Thirty-two
Goldenrod – Careful Encouragement
As summer reached its height we were seeing a lot more holidaymakers in St Felix. Daisy Chain, along with many of the other shops on Harbour Street, was starting to turn a healthy profit. And it wasn’t only our regular flowers and Amber’s special bouquets that were making money; we’d begun to sell a lot more of our flower trinkets too.
So much so that many of the original bits and pieces that Belle had supplied me with for the shop had already sold out. So I’d approached the makers of these items, personally this time, to ask if they’d like to supply the shop on a regular basis. Thrilled, they had agreed. As a result, Daisy Chain featured the work of many local artists displayed amongst the flowers.
This afternoon I’m off to see Bronte at her house, to talk to her about whether she’d like to sell some of her creations in the shop.
Aside from the ceramic work Jake had shown me on the night we’d gone to her school, I’d noticed that Bronte made a lot of her own jewellery – some from papier mâché, some from beads, and some from items she found on the beach like shells, pebbles, sea glass and tiny bits of driftwood. It was all really pretty and very different, and observing the type of people we were attracting to the shop, I knew it was something Daisy Chain’s customers would like.
The rest of the shops in Harbour Street didn’t sell the sort of items we did; they were either practical, everyday shops that sold food, newspapers or stationery, or they went for the traditional seaside wares: buckets and spades, ice creams, sun cream and beach towels. Apart from Belle with her studio, no one else dared to do anything differently. It was a shame because Harbour Street and St Felix had so much potential. The few empty shops at the higher end of the street could be filled with so many things other than another charity shop, which I had been afraid we’d get if things didn’t pick up. But with the town a lot busier now, I had high hopes that new businesses might eventually be attracted back into St Felix.
So this morning as Basil and I walk up Primrose Hill to our meeting with Bronte, I’m in a buoyant mood even though I’m slightly concerned about visiting Jake’s house. I’ve come during working hours in the hope he’ll be busy in the nursery, but he lives on the same land he grows his flowers on, so I’m crossing my fingers I won’t have to see him, or too many of his flowers. I’ve been a lot better around flowers lately, but even so I don’t want to chance being exposed to so many of them – that might be taking things too far.
Basil and I arrive at the nursery and walk through a gate and up a long path leading to a pleasant-looking farmhouse, and as I ring the bell and stand back to wait, Basil immediately lies down to rest while I take a quick look around me.
I can see a few polytunnels, lots of greenhouses and some fields spread out at the back and sides of the house, and I can’t help but shudder at the thought of all the flowers that might be lurking in there – hundreds of the things, all condensed into one place…
I’m hoping that Jake isn’t home. Not because Bronte and I need to discuss his birthday party; I’ve already had several secret meetings with Bronte and Charlie in the back room of Daisy Chain, and our plans for a party at Trecarlan are coming along a treat. No, the reason I don’t want to see Jake today is because I’m afraid he’ll suggest a trip to see his flower empire. Although, the way Jake has been with me lately, it seems highly unlikely.
Jake’s changed since Ash and I got together. He no longer pops into the shop at lunchtime, and he never asks me to join him for a quick drink at the Mermaid after work. As much as I like Ash, this distance Jake has put between us saddens me greatly. I don’t want to gain a boyfriend and lose a good friend, but that’s what seems to have happened.
‘Hey, Poppy. Hey, Basil,’ Bronte says, opening the door. ‘Come in.’
We follow Bronte into a tidy hall with pictures hung neatly on the walls, and then through to a spotless kitchen where she has laid her jewellery out on a large scrubbed wooden table for me to see.
‘Can I get you a drink?’ she asks. ‘Coffee or tea?’
I get the feeling that the usually confident Bronte is nervous.
‘What are you drinking?’ I ask, looking at a can on the side.
‘Diet Pepsi,’ she says. ‘Would you like that?’
‘Yeah, that would be great.’
Bronte gets me a can, and Basil a bowl of water, then we sit and examine her jewellery, talking about how she makes it, where she gets her inspiration from, and what sort of things she could make for the shop.
‘Are you sure people will want to buy my jewellery?’ she asks. ‘It’s just a hobby.’
‘Do you ever make jewellery for your friends?’
‘Sure, that’s all they ever want for birthday and Christmas gifts.’
