Page 66 of My Kind of Happy

She shook her head fondly. ‘A head for business and a heart of gold. They broke the mould when they made you.’

‘You’re not so bad yourself,’ I said, giving her a hug.

The phone rang again, interrupting our mutual appreciation society and this time Nina answered it.

‘Nina’s Flowers?’ She listened to the voice on the other end. ‘Hold the line please.’

She covered the phone with her hand. ‘Fearne, can you squeeze in another delivery today?’

‘Sure.’

‘Yes, we can do that,’ she replied to the customer. ‘What was it you had in mind? Two dozen red roses? Yes of course we have them in stock. They’re two pounds fifty per stem.’

She held the phone away from her ear. I could hear a man’s outraged voice from across the shop. The customer had obviously just done the maths and realised what a tidy sum he was about to spend.

‘These are the best roses you’ll find in Derbyshire,’ said Nina, haughtily. ‘They smell divine and make a very romantic statement to whoever is lucky enough to receive them. Of course, if you’d rather nip into the supermarket …? No? Excellent. A good choice.’

She winked and I nodded my approval; nicely played.

Our roses were perfect: fragrant, beautiful and would last for ages. But as a romantic gesture, red roses were a little clichéd. For the same money I’d choose a mix of flowers and foliage which spoke of holding hands, and sun-kissed skin and smiling eyes and romantic walks …

I dragged myself out of my reverie to select the twenty-four red roses as Nina asked for the customer’s credit card details.

‘That’s gone through for you. Any message with them?’

She held her pen poised over the paper, ready for the person on the other end to dictate.

‘To my darling Pandora …’

My ears pricked up. How many Pandoras could there be in the area? It had to be Sam’s wife. In which case, the sender had to be Sam. My first thought was one of annoyance; why hadn’t he come in personally to choose something? Had I taught him nothing? He hadn’t been in the shop since he bought her the last bunch, but if he was buying her more, that answered my question: their reunion date had obviously gone well.

Nina was still dictating the message. ‘Thank you for a great night last night, you were incredible. Lots of love, your sexy tiger. PS can’t wait to play with my kitty cat again next week, kiss, kiss.’

Ew. Make that very well indeed.

We caught each other’s eye; I grimaced and Nina pretended to put her fingers down her throat.

I wished I hadn’t heard that. I was glad they were back together, of course I was, but there was something nauseating about other people’s nicknames for each other.

‘That must be Sam. Can I speak to him before you hang up?’ I whispered, holding out my hand for the phone. I wanted to tell him about the Claybourne order.

She shook her head and leaned away from me. ‘And can I take the name on the front of your card, please?’

I looked over her shoulder as she wrote in capitals: GARETH WEAVER.

Oh, I thought, surprised; Pandora was clearly a more common name than I realised.

‘Thank you, Mr Weaver, we’ll get those delivered for you this afternoon. Goodbye.’ Nina ended the call and selected a gift card to go with the roses. ‘Well, well, well, nothing like a peek into someone else’s sex life to make you feel nauseous. Why did you think it was Sam?’

‘My mistake,’ I said, dismissively. ‘His wife has the same name as Mr Weaver’s kitty cat, that’s all.’

‘Unless …’ Nina paused for dramatic impact, widening her eyes, ‘… Sam’s wife was playing big cat, little cat with another man last night.’

‘If you don’t mind, I’d rather pretend we’re simply delivering flowers from sexy tiger to kitty cat and it’s got absolutely nothing to do with Sam.’ I wrapped the flowers in cellophane while Nina wrote the card out. For his sake, I hoped that Sam was happily back with his family, just as he hoped he’d be.

‘Either way it’s none of our business. What happens in the florist, stays in the florist,’ said Nina, solemnly. ‘We are the keeper of many secrets.’

‘Ooh, secrets? Sounds like I’ve arrived just in time, darlings.’ Lucas sprang up between us, startling us both. ‘Tell your uncle Lucas. I want all the juicy details.’