Alice has bubbled over with glee. Her whole face radiates amusement and now I know exactly why I felt compelled to tell this beautiful girl one of my most embarrassing facts. Just seeing her laugh makes me feel good.
‘What?!Youread Point Romance?’
‘Maybe one or two.’ (At least a dozen).
‘I am shook,’ she says. And then, more quietly, almost to herself, ‘You really are into love, huh.’
Will that put her off me, I wonder? She’s a self-proclaimed cynic when it comes to ‘The One’ and I’m a closet romance reader. Thankfully I don’t get the chance to dwell on it because whirlwind Alice has already moved on, bouncing us along to the contemporary fiction aisle to make her own selection.
Not wanting our date to end, I’d asked Alice if I could persuade her to ditch her pastry ban and now we’re sat in the café area chatting away, our new purchases on the table. Alice is busy recounting an ongoing argument she’s been having with the pigeon in her garden – ‘I call it the Big Shitter because it keeps pooing on the washing line and our tumble dryer has broken …’ – and I’m trying hard not to smile. Listening to her talk is like watching champagne being poured into a glass. Even a story about a shitting pigeon is made effervescent by Alice who fizzes her way through conversations with a carefree energy.
‘It’s not funny, Zach! I spent an hour with a new client before I noticed that I had bird poo on my shoulder.’
‘Tell me more about being a florist,’ I say, watching her eyes light up as she talks about her business.
‘I set my own shop up in my twenties and it’s been pretty intense ever since. I’m up early every morning and often work after the shop has shut for the day dealing with order enquiries. I just feel really lucky that I’ve managed to turn a passion into a career.’
‘It sounds like you’re being incredibly modest. It takes a lot of hard work to start your own successful business. You should be proud of yourself.’
‘Thank you,’ she beams. ‘I am. But look at you, people pay for the artwork you create. That’s awesome.’
‘What’s that? Not teasing me about my art that someone with a piece of A4 paper and sharpie could have done today?’ I laugh as she takes a bite of her bun. ‘Seriously though, thank you. It’s hard to turn creative interests into something to live off but I’m so glad I have a job I love. What got you into flowers?’
For a brief second, a shadow crosses her face but she dismisses it, taking a sip of her coffee. ‘When I was a kid, my dad would come home with a new bunch of flowers for my mum every Friday night. Sometimes flowers he’d picked from the garden, sometimes a bouquet from a shop. Then we’d gather in the kitchen, arranging them into jam jars and I’d dot them around the house. It was my favourite part of the week.’
I find myself lost in the image of Alice’s childhood. It sounds like everything I didn’t have.
‘I worked part-time at a florist’s while I was at uni and spotted a gap in the market for something more appealing to the younger market. The shop’s become a bit of an Instagram hotspot now because it looks really cute, if I say so myself. We have rows of flowers in old wooden crates on display outside, under a green and white-striped awning. Inside there’s a neon sign against one wall which customers love to take pictures next to, a mesh wall stuffed with our latest arrangements and a massive oak table at the back which we use to wrap up bouquets. I found it at an antiques shop in town. People come to me from all over Sheffield just to buy a bunch and take photos of the shop floor. We’ve got a big online following and I get commissions from all around Yorkshire.’
‘It’s amazing you’ve built up the business like that.’
She smiles proudly. ‘It’s been hard work. I bet you can relate to that?’
‘God yes,’ I laugh. ‘When I finished uni I quickly realised that no one was going to pay a total unknown for his art so I took a job in a coffee shop, working as many shifts as I could and spending every spare hour painting in a corner of the bedroom I rented off a friend. The light in there was shocking! I spent a lot of time worrying that I’d never become a real artist, that I’d have to give up the dream and get a “proper job”, but I was really lucky because a local art gallery decided to run an exhibition of up and coming talent and that was my big break, really. I started getting commissions and one thing led to another. It felt like a long slog but I’m so happy to be able to rent my own studio space now.’
‘And you’ve just had your own exhibition! I love that,’ grins Alice.
‘And I’m no longer inflicting my coffee-making skills on the people of Sheffield, so it really is win win.’
‘It’s a steep learning curve, isn’t it?’ she says. ‘I mean, I had no idea about the business side of things when I started out, but it’s also super rewarding. Sometimes I feel like I have so many ideas of where I’d like to take it next that I’m actually going to burst.’
‘Well, please don’t burst just yet. I’m having way too much fun.’
‘Don’t worry, I am strictly off duty for our date.’
‘In that case I consider myself extremely lucky. You’re right, by the way.’
‘Oh?’ She says, her fingers curling playfully around her coffee cup.
‘The apricot tartisa winner.’
She laughs then, taking a bite out of her cinnamon bun.
‘Dunno, these are pretty good too. You have excellent taste in pastries, Zach.’
Normally I struggle chatting to new people but not with Alice. We’ve already spent a couple of easy hours together and I’m keen to carry on but when one of the staff starts clearing our table around us, I have to admit defeat.
‘I had fun,’ she says, her eyes turning up to me as we leave. ‘And I’m excited for this Scandi crime. Though I’m worried it might give me lots of ideas for Nat’s ex-boyfriend’s brutal demise.’
