It All Started With You, page 16
‘Okay!’ I sit down opposite him. ‘That was only our friendly local policeman over there. You all right, Josh?’
‘Yes – just annoyed. Some people are the limit.’
Too right, I’m thinking. Josh being a case in point. But I need to keep focused on my plan. ‘Oh, I know exactly what you mean.’
Instead of walking out, which is what I want to do, I nod my head sympathetically. ‘They think they can do just what they like, just because they’re a policeman, or an actor for instance.’
I glance over my shoulder again, then lower my voice. ‘I shouldn’t really tell you this, Josh, but I have this client – well, there are two lots of clients, actually. The first ones told me this morning they’re cancelling their wedding. That they’ve changed their minds and are running off to do it in the Seychelles. So trashy, don’t you think, Josh? I mean, just everyone gets married there these days… And they don’t even give a thought to all the time I’ve already put in and that I’ve lost business because of them…’
‘So when was it going to be?’ I can’t believe he’s swallowed it, hook, line and sinker.
‘Oh – I suppose it doesn’t matter me saying now. October… At Roselin Castle – it would have been brilliant for me – only now…’ I shrug.
‘What a nerve,’ he agrees, looking somewhat crestfallen. ‘But did you say there was another?’
‘It’s odd,’ I tell him. ‘Because it’s also in October and not one of my usual venues. It’s actually in Hampshire – which is blinking miles away for a tiny little florist like me – but because it’s high profile, I took it. I mean, it’ll be wonderful publicity when the photos come out in Hello! magazine…’
He looks as though he’s swallowed something nasty at the mention of Hello!.
‘I shouldn’t tell you…’ I ponder. ‘But I’m desperate to tell someone… It’s terribly exciting… Perhaps if you suggest people, I can just nod if you’re right – that way I’m not actually telling you, am I?’
‘Pop star?’ He suggests, looking thoughtful. ‘Actress? TV personality? Footballer?’
At the last two, I catch his eye and wink.
‘So where have you been?’ asks Honey when I get in.
‘On a top secret mission,’ I tell her. ‘I could tell you, but I’d have to kill you. How was Charlie? Did you have your little talk?’
‘Yes, we did,’ she says cagily.
‘And,’ I say carefully, watching her, ‘was it helpful?’
‘What do you mean?’ She spins round and glares at me. ‘What’s she been saying to you?’
‘Chill, Honey – I’m winding you up. Tea?’
‘I’ll do it.’
As she puts the kettle on, I decide to fill her in about Josh.
‘Actually, I had a date with your brother-in-law.’
As I proceed to tell her what he’s up to, she shakes her head.
‘You should be careful, Frankie. He’s not very nice when he’s crossed,’ which I saw for myself earlier on.
‘Oh, he deserves to be thoroughly set up,’ I tell her. ‘He’s so up himself he needs a ladder to get back down. Don’t worry – I’m teaching him a valuable lesson. One day, he might even thank me.’
‘Don’t count on it. He’s always been completely selfish,’ says Honey. ‘Ask Johnny. He’ll tell you a story or two. Just be careful, that’s all.’
I shrug it off. What could he possibly do to hurt me?
22
Julia and I meet near the hospital, only for an hour, because credit to her, she wants to spend all the time Giles has left with him. As usual, she’s late, but I don’t mind because this time I know there’s a genuine reason.
For the first time ever, she looks her age and I stop thinking about her as the mother that’s never been there. She’s just another person going through a private hell.
‘I’ve already ordered us some food,’ I tell her. ‘Just in case you’re in a hurry. You look worn out. Are you sleeping?’
She shakes her head. ‘It doesn’t matter. I’ve plenty of time for that – after…’ Her eyes are full of tears.
‘We’re taking him home to Angela’s. Tomorrow. So he can spend the last days with us all round him… We’ll have nurses of course…’ The tears start rolling down her cheeks. ‘Sorry, Frankie. I’m a mess…’
‘It’s okay,’ I tell her gently. ‘Don’t apologise. What you’re doing is really important, Julia. I’m sure Giles is grateful.’
She wipes her eyes. ‘I just wish I could do more.’
It’s a side of my mother I’ve never seen before. I guess if love brings out the best in people, she must really love Giles more than I’d realised.
If only I could say the same about my friends. Truly, I’m not surprised Honey and Johnny are having problems. I mean, the big night is finally here. She’s going on a date with the man she wants to win back and she looks like she’s going to a court hearing. Suddenly it occurs to me that with Johnny, she’s always been a lawyer. Perhaps underneath, she doesn’t really know how to be anyone else.
‘Honey! You can’t go out dressed like that!’ I’m truly aghast.
Her face falls. ‘Why? What’s wrong with it?’
I thought we were making progress, but we’ve further to go than I thought. ‘What about your lovely new clothes? The ones you’ve been wearing to the shop and round here?’
‘They’re work clothes,’ she says, mystified. ‘Wasn’t that the point?’
I take her hand and lead her over to the mirror. ‘Look. What do you see?’
‘One of my new dresses… it’s an expensive one, actually and it needs the heels because it looks ridiculous with flat shoes and well, tights, because…’ Her voice peters out. She purses her lips and stares at her reflection. ‘I look boring, don’t I?’
‘Not boring, as such,’ I tell her diplomatically. ‘Just more like you’re going to a business meeting, not on a hot date. You want to catch his eye and wow him, make him see a different side of you.’
‘That’s what Charlie said too,’ she says mournfully. ‘I’m hopeless, aren’t I? I’m never going to make this work…’
I take her hand and pull her towards my bedroom. ‘Come on. Let’s see what we can do.’
Twenty minutes later, after the fastest makeover ever, wearing her new boyfriend jeans, one of my slinky T-shirts that shows off her figure, with a cashmere cardi worn loosely over the top, she looks like a different girl. I add a hippy necklace, mess her hair a bit – ignoring the way she winces – paint on bold black eye liner, then find a sheer pink lipstick to replace the red she always wears. Lo and behold, Honey looks sensational.
‘I don’t believe it!’ She’s open-mouthed as she looks in the mirror. ‘He won’t recognise me…’ She even giggles, like a girl rather than a lawyer.
‘That’s my girl,’ I say proudly. ‘Off you go. And knock him dead.’
There’s even a bit of a wiggle going on as she crosses the road – I spy on her from my window. Then my smile fades. She’s still got to get through this evening – without me.
I collapse on my sofa and stick my feet up, trying to decide which mindless TV show to watch when my phone rings. It’s Charlie.
‘Did she go?’
‘About ten minutes ago.’
‘Was she okay?’
‘I think so. Only I did have to make her change…’
‘Oh God. Hopeless isn’t she. Look – can I come over?’
Ten minutes later, Charlie arrives, complete with gin from her hoard of duty-free, so I rush out to Demelza’s to buy the tonic and some lemons. Mr Crowley looks at me suspiciously. He’s recently taken it upon himself to become rather overzealous about alcohol consumption and the benefits of a healthy diet. So much so, his shop has become, dare I say it, rather boring.
‘Have you never had tonic and lemon, Mr Crowley?’ I ask innocently. ‘Lovely, juicy slices… Delicious! And one of your five a day! Hardly any calories and awfully healthy – and you know how healthy I am these days!’
He mumbles something indecipherable at me, then I skip back home where Charlie makes our drinks – we giggle much more when she does them.
Once we’re settled on the sofa and have slurped them a bit, she says, ‘I’m worried about Honey. She’s really rather…’ She frowns.
‘Bossy? Serious?’ I suggest. ‘Uptight?’
‘Kind of…’ She wrinkles up her little nose, looking thoughtful. ‘Though actually, I was thinking more along the lines of repressed.’
Suddenly protective of my old friend, I nearly choke on my gin. ‘What makes you say that?’
And how come I’ve never thought that? Or am I repressed, too? Is that the root of my problems, too?
‘I shouldn’t really tell you this,’ says Charlie. ‘I’d hate to upset her – do you absolutely promise to keep it a secret?’
I nod.
‘Well, the other night, when we went out, we had this girl-to-girl chat about sex. Did you know she’s only ever had sex with Johnny? And only missionary position sex with the lights out? I tried to get rid of that Catholic guilt she seems to have about it.’
I had no idea. I feel a look of horror on my face, as I remember the only brief conversation we’ve ever had on the subject. ‘I know she doesn’t like blowjobs.’
Charlie looks at me quizzically.
‘This one time, after too many mojitos,’ I explain. ‘It was early days with Johnny – things might have changed…’
Charlie looks worried. ‘I think it’s safe to say they haven’t.’
I sigh. ‘But how on earth do you educate a nearly thirty-something about sex? Or do you think maybe it’s too late and she’s condemned to spending the rest of her days a frigid spinster.’
‘Oh, Frankie, don’t be ridiculous! But I’ve been thinking… Could we give her stuff to read? Racy novels, for instance. Or Mummy porn – or something?’
‘Oh, excellent! Like Mills & Boon, just to break her in, to be swiftly followed by some vintage Louise Bagshawe,’ I say promptly. ‘All rounded off with Nancy Friday and E. L. James…’
‘I was thinking more Lady Chatterley’s Lover,’ said Charlie thoughtfully. ‘Well, what have you got that we can just leave lying around here and there, perhaps by her bed and make sure she reads them.’
It’s only sensible to have another gin before we get started, then together we select half a dozen titles that we think are suitably heavy on the sex scenes and dot them strategically round my flat.
‘There’s a funny smell in here…’ Charlie’s suddenly sniffing the air. ‘I’m sure it wasn’t here earlier…’
It wasn’t. I have an extremely sensitive florist’s nose. What’s more, it seems to be coming from Honey’s room. Tentatively, I open the door.
‘What on earth is that?’ Charlie darts in and retrieves Mrs Orange’s posy from the bedside table, wrinkling her nose and holding it at arm’s length. It’s clearly the offending object, filling the flat with wafts of something horrible.
‘Oh my God,’ I say shocked. ‘Mrs O. gave me that. It’s got all these things in it to mend marriages.’
Our eyes meet.
‘Are you sure about that? Because looking at that, I’d say it isn’t a good omen,’ says Charlie, as we both stare at it, horrified.
I make Charlie wait with me, because after finding the posy, I’ve a bad feeling about Honey and Johnny. And while I’ve never taken too much notice of Mrs Orange’s theories about flowers, I’m starting to wonder if I might have been wrong. And if I am, she might be batty, but she knows her flowers. Or has done, up till now.
In the event, we don’t have to wait long – in fact it’s just after ten thirty when the front door opens and a very subdued Honey comes in.
‘Hey! How did it go?’ I say brightly.
But she walks over and picks up the gin bottle. ‘I’ll pour you one,’ says Charlie hastily. ‘Now come on, we’re dying to know.’
Honey sits down with a sigh. ‘Well, he was already there, and when I walked in, he didn’t recognise me.’
‘Yaay!’ I cheer. ‘Result!’
Honey raises her eyebrows as Charlie hands her a glass. ‘Thank you. Anyway, I got all the way over and was practically standing in front of him, before he realised it was me, then he gave me this who-are-you-and-what-have-you-done-with-my-wife kind of look. He did say I looked nice though.’
‘Surprised is good, Honey.’
‘I know. And it went okay. We talked – not about the rows – just about stuff. He couldn’t stop talking about Cosmo, actually and how he and Lulubelle are going out with Matty again…’
Which makes me smile to myself.
‘I really thought it was going well, then right at the end, when we went outside, he told me I looked lovely. But then he said he didn’t want us to go back to how things used to be; that maybe we were better off on our own. Then he kissed me on the cheek and walked away.’
‘Shit,’ says Charlie, frowning.
‘He’s confused.’ I’m starting to seriously think this is in some way connected to the posy. ‘Maybe he wasn’t expecting you to be so different. Remember it’s still the first step and at least you didn’t argue. It has to be good.’
‘What’s that?’ Honey frowns and picks up one of the raunchy paperbacks.
‘You should read it,’ I tell her. ‘It’s a great plot. There’s a lawyer in it.’
‘I absolutely loved it,’ said Charlie, nodding. In matters she’s none the wiser about, Honey can be very suggestible.
‘I could do with something to distract me,’ says Honey.
But in the shop the next morning, there isn’t time to mull over Honey’s marital problems. From the moment we open, it’s all go with flowers and brides and the first of Honey’s meetings at a rather posh wedding venue. She goes off bright and early, carefully vetted by yours truly, her linen trousers and jacket prettied up just a touch with brightly coloured beads and a silk scarf.
‘So, er, when’s Milo bringing the flowers?’ I ask Skye, subtly digging to see if she’s seen him.
‘Haven’t a bleedin’ clue, Frankie. Normally calls you, doesn’t he?’ Not taking the bait and looking at me as if I’m stupid.
Then Mrs Orange pokes her head in. ‘That friend of yours not here, duck?’
‘No, no – oh, I’m so glad you’re here.’ I go rushing over to her and she looks amused.
‘What you so pleased about, my lovely? You won’t be when I tell you what I’ve gone and done… Only I got them flowers wrong.’ Shaking her head, she looks upset.
‘What do you mean?’ But as I ask her, I realise I know. It’s the posy. ‘You mean the posy, don’t you?’
She nods slowly. ‘You see, I’ve been trying to get the hang of that interweb, duck… All them pages, my lovely, honest! You wouldn’t believe, you must have a look at it sometime. Anyway, I finds this page with flower meanings on it, only what I don’t realise is, it were wrong. Mistakes all over, there were. Only realised last night when I read it again and I thought, that’s funny, so I got out me books and started reading. And I told myself, Mrs Orange, you’re right and the interweb thingy is wrong. So I’m terrible sorry, duck. And I’ve brought you a different one.’
She hands me another posy, which on first glance, is similar to the last one, with rosemary and other herbs and tiny little flowers that haven’t opened yet.
‘Them flowers open at night, duck. That’s when it’s at its strongest…’
Taking it from her, I breathe in a fragrance that seems an amalgamation of many individual constituents, as a strange feeling comes over me.
‘Wow,’ I say. ‘This is lovely.’
She nods. ‘You wouldn’t want it to get into the wrong hands, duck. Give it to her quick like, when she gets back.’
I place the posy in a vase on my desk, but every so often my eye is drawn to it. Then Milo comes in and he notices it too.
‘Blimey, what’s that?’ he says.
‘A present,’ I say vaguely, then out of the corner of my eye, I watch him and Skye, standing close to each other, their heads almost touching as they talk. Oh yes… It’s the posy at work. And I now know for certain that he fancies her – his body language is suddenly obvious and before he goes, he kisses her on the cheek. She blushes bright red.
‘Somebody’s taken a shine to you,’ I say smugly. ‘Told you so, didn’t I?’
She doesn’t even respond, just carries on with her work slightly in a daze. This mellow, soporific mood persists until Honey comes back in and shatters it. ‘I’ve just met the wedding organiser from hell,’ she announces. ‘She was rude about your portfolio, patronising about our shop…’ Yes – Honey actually said our shop. ‘…and then asked what kind of discount we’d give them, at which point I stood up and told her she’d completely missed the point and that if her clients weren’t discerning enough, there were plenty of others elsewhere who were. Then I left.’
Needless to say, I’m horrified. ‘Honey! You can’t talk to people like that!’
‘Frankie, she was thoroughly obnoxious and she wanted to pay less money, not more.’
I shake my head exasperatedly. ‘Look, I thought the idea was to get referrals. That way, we get to deal with clients directly and negotiate the costs with them, not the venue. At least, that was what you said.’
‘Oh…’ Honey looks crestfallen.
‘Look, it’s not much different to being a lawyer. You have to schmooze. Network. Be the supplier they fall in love with, so that they remember you for the right reasons, not because you pissed them off. D’you see the difference?’
But she’s distracted by the sight of Mrs Orange’s posy. ‘What’s this?’ Walking over to the desk, I watch her pick it up and I swear, before my eyes, her demeanour changes. The frown vanishes and she seems to shrink, as she looks at me bewilderedly. ‘Next time I’ll do it differently, I promise – if you trust me?’
