Page 30 of Six Steps to Happiness
The delivery lady looked in Ronnie’s direction with a smile and a wave, enough to make Ronnie want to run out and slap the woman. Although Ronnie’s annoyance fast turned to confusion when the delivery lady began walking up Ronnie’s garden path. “For me?” she mouthed. Ronnie giggled as she clapped her hands and hopped from one foot to the other, doing her best not to believe that the flowers had to have come from Jack.
Ronnie rushed out into the hall, beaming as she went to collect them.
“Ronnie Jacobs?” the lady asked.
Ronnie nodded at double speed.
“Then, yes, these are for you.”
Ronnie’s eyes widened as she accepted the offering. The bouquet was even more beautiful up close. Orange gerbera daisies, orange spray roses, pink gillyflowers and lavender mini carnations were accented with fronds of Queen Anne’s lace and lush green foliage. She put her nose to the ensemble, breathing in its soft sweet fragrance. “Thank you,” Ronnie said, feeling a tad overcome. She’d never been gifted anything so beautiful.
Ronnie stood smiling for a moment, watching the delivery lady go on her way, before heading back inside. Once in the kitchen, she laid the bouquet down on the counter, marvelling at what had to be Jack’s gesture. She checked the wrapping to see if there was a card and, rummaging through the layers, found a little white envelope stapled to the sheer plastic, hidden under copious amounts of pink ribbon. She pulled the envelope free, before holding it up and tapping it against her chin. Feeling nervous, she giggled, deciding to save the card for later when she could properly savour his words.
Laying the envelope to one side, Ronnie reached into a cupboard for a glass vase and filled it with water, before grabbing the scissors from the drawer. Careful not to damage the flowers, she cut through the pretty packaging and, opening it out, placed a firm hand over the bouquet’s gathering of dark green stems. Ronnie hated what she was about to do but recalled reading somewhere that it enabled bunches of flowers to live a longer healthier life. “Sorry about this,” she said, not sure if it worked or whether it was an old wife’s tale. Ronnie took a deep breath as she held the closed scissor blades tight in her hand and bashed the stalks with the handles, crushing each and every one of them until they flattened and split.
The flora and fauna might not have appreciated her actions, but Ronnie had to admit she found it therapeutic and, job done, she wiped her forehead as she stood back to regard her efforts. Taking in the green mulch, she wondered if she’d battered them a bit too much. Still, admirers would be too enamoured with the orange, pink and lavender on display above the water line to notice the mess below. She lifted the whole ensemble and placed it in the vase, titivating each individual bloom until they stood to perfection. “Beautiful,” she said and glancing around for the best place to sit them, she positioned the whole thing in the centre of the dining table.
Hearing another vehicle door slam shut, Ronnie cocked her head, her tummy once again fizzing in anticipation. Surely Jack hadn’t come to make sure his gift had been delivered? She straightened her clothing, quickly retracing her footsteps back into the lounge in the hope of spotting him.
But her shoulders slumped when, much to her disappointment, he was nowhere to be seen. Instead, she found herself looking at a rather serious chap. Dressed in a shirt and tie and carrying a clipboard, he stood staring up at number eight, his eyes narrowed in concentration. Ronnie’s heart lifted as she wondered if this was the day that she’d been praying for? Was the chap before her an estate agent? She looked from him to his vehicle, reading the signage on his car.Graham Sharpe, Chartered Surveyor,it said. “Do chartered surveyors sell houses?” Ronnie asked.
Her attention was diverted when Gaye appeared at her front door.
“Mr Sharpe?”
Ronnie noted that Gaye’s appearance seemed less together than usual. Her hair wasn’t as perfect, her outfit not quite effortless and she looked tired. Ronnie smiled, imagining the woman forced to sleep with one eye open. Even her voice sounded different; equally as loud, but less self-assured.
“Thank you for coming.” Gaye wrung her hands as she waited for her guest to approach.
“No problem,” Mr Sharpe replied. “Although I’m not sure why I’m here.” Making his way up number eight’s garden path, he took another glance at the house. “From what I can see, everything looks okay, on this side at least. Obviously I’ll need to do a detailed assessment, but there are no trees and therefore no roots undermining your property. There doesn’t seem to be any cracks. Unless they’re internal? Or round the back?”
“Oh no, we don’t have anything like that.”
“So, what makes you think the house is subsiding?”
Subsiding!Ronnie hoped not. That could spell disaster for her own property.
“To be honest, I don’t. There’s been some funny goings on lately and…”
Ronnie’s eyes widened. She put a hand up to her mouth, realising the chap’s visit was a result ofOperation Poltergeist.He might not be the estate agent she’d hoped for, but in her view the man’s presence was still good news. “First flowers and then this. Can the day get any better?” she said.
“My boyfriend…”
Ronnie winced. Did she have to keep calling him that?
“At first he thought there’d been an earthquake. But when there were no reports, let’s say he came up with the idea of it being the house that’s moving.”
Ronnie smirked as she thought about her trip into next door. “And that would explain the secret message in the bathroom mirror, how?” A question that Gaye had, no doubt, posed too.
Remembering Nick’s last visit, Ronnie knew her ex didn’t really think number eight was moving. He’d guessed she was behind everything from the start, the poor man simply couldn’t prove it. Ronnie’s smile widened. It felt good to know her efforts were paying off. Gaye clearly believed her house was haunted, and Nick was doing everything he could to ease the woman’s ghostly worries. Ronnie planned on keeping the pressure up, of course; Nick had to run out of potential excuses for the unexplained activity at some point. Maybe then he’d turn into a believer himself?
Ronnie watched them head indoors and, deciding to celebrateOperation Poltergeist’sinitial success with a well-earned cup of coffee, made her way back to the kitchen. Ronnie paused at the dining table to look at the vase of flowers. Reaching out to stroke one of the daisies, she knew Jack had sidetracked her enough already; that instead of acting like a lovesick schoolgirl, she should have focused on the task at hand – getting rid of Nick and Gaye. She sighed. Ready to capitalise on her progress so far, thoughts of Jack and any potential date would have to wait.
Determined, she put the kettle on. However, at the same time, the little envelope that came with the flower delivery caught her eye. Picking it up, she again insisted she’d wasted enough time on such silliness and maintaining her resolve, tossed it into the bin. Grabbing a cup from the cupboard, a part of her wavered, that little voice of hers insisting there was no harm in reading Jack’s note. After everything Ronnie had been through, a little confidence boost might even spur her on.
She put down the cup and, opening the bin lid, retrieved the envelope, her childish giddiness returning as she ripped it open. As she read though, her smile vanished and her heart sank. That was not what Ronnie had expected.
21
