AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Aftertwo local deliveries right in town, their third drop-off was to a semi-detached house on the outskirts ofLullburyBay.Comparedto most weddingsDaisydid, it was a small order and she’d been asked to deliver everything to the house.Alongwith trays of buttonholes and the bride’s and bridesmaids’ bouquets there were a couple of large arrangements which the happy couple were taking along to the room in the pub where the wedding breakfast was being held.Luckily, she was able to squeeze the van into a space on the street, so she helpedMiatake the flowers in.
Daisyloved deliveries like this.Ahouse on the morning of a wedding was usually happy chaos and this one was no exception.Aslightly tipsy matron of honour greeted them and showed them where to stash the flowers in the garage to keep them cool, and then offered bubbly which they had to decline.Thiswas all against a backdrop of hairdryers, the photographer trying to organise aclutch of giggly middle-aged bridesmaids and the babble of young children running off some steam in the back garden.Thebudget for this wedding had been tight butDaisyhad been determined to do them proud and, with lots of white carnations clustered tightly together, some pale-green globe chrysanthemums, gypsophila, and feathery fern to bulk it all out, she was happy she’d done the best she could within their price range.She’deven been able to sneak a few ice-white roses into the bride’s bouquet.
‘Aw, that’s going to be a sweet wedding,’Miasaid, as she shoved the sheaf of delivery notes into the footwell and squeezed back into the van, clipping her seat belt on. ‘Couplein their sixties.Wereat school together, got married to other people, then got divorced, and found one another again onFacebook.’
DaisythrustPrimroseinto gear.Thevan protested and she prayed she wouldn’t need more expensive repairs.
‘Soyou see,’Miacontinued, ‘romance isn’t dead.Youjust have to keep looking.’
‘UntilI’msixty apparently.What’snext on the list?’
Miafished out the notes from under her feet. ‘Walter’sgeraniums, two birthday bouquets overMaidenNewtonway and then we’re finished.’
Daisyglanced in her rear-view mirror, turnedPrimroseround and headed to the western edge of town and the bypass.Thetraffic immediately slowed to a crawl and she reined in her impatience.AsunnySaturdayhad tourists flocking to the beach. ‘Ishould have gone the other way.’
‘Toolate now.Besides,LowerSeaLaneis closed.It’swhy everyone’s coming this way.Touristsand locals too.Roadworks,Mumsaid.’
Daisypressed the window down and switched on the radio.As‘WalkingonSunshine’ played, she tried to breathe in patience along with the salty sea breeze, and sang along.Itcouldn’t be a better song to sing on a sunny day by the seaside, even if youwere stuck in traffic.
‘Whatisthis?’Miaasked.
‘Katrinaand theWaves.’
‘Thewho?’
‘DefinitelynotTheWho,’Daisygiggled, ‘Katrinaand theWaves.It’sa band.TheywonEurovisionalthough not with this one.’
‘OhEurovision.’Miaimmediately lost interest.
‘Doyou mind?Ilove a bit of cheesyEuropop.Youmight well hear ‘LoveShineaLight’ in a mo.Primrose’sradio is stuck onBayRadioand it only plays golden oldies.Butseeing asPrimroseis a bit of a golden oldie herself it’s quite appropriate.’SheignoredMia’spuzzled look; the girl was too young to appreciate good music when she heard it.
Asthe traffic ground to a haltDaisystopped singing and groaned instead.Sheloved living by the sea but on days like this, you had to build in extra time to get anywhere, in any direction.Sheswitched off the engine, staring vacantly at the car in front.Hermind drifted, inevitably, to the business and specifically to the shopfront.Shewas happy with the navy-blue-and-silver sign and the window frames hadn’t long been repainted in the same dark hue, but she could never decide what to put out at the front.LullburyBay’shigh-street pavements were narrow; she wasn’t allowed anyA-boards but she wanted to create an attractive frontage to entice customers in.
Apair of manicured matching box trees in silver pots with white satin ribbons had done the job for a while but hadn’t lasted a harsh seaside stormy winter.Maybea marguerite shrub or two would do the job?Orperhaps she should put out some racks of flowers for people to help themselves.Orwould that encourage people toactuallyhelp themselves?WithLullburyBay’smini crime wave going on, she wasn’t sure her profits could take the hit.Aswell as some of the yarn bombing being vandalised, there had been a more serious spate of thefts.
Katrinatrilled off to be replaced byTheBeachBoysand ‘CaliforniaGirls’.Daisy’sthoughts were tugged back toRick.Thesong had been playing on the shop radio when he’d first walked in.Sheremembered the immediate visceral effect he’d had on her and the gentle banter about football and team colours.Herbottom lip jutted out in what her mother would recognise as a sulk.Itwasn’t fair that the only man she’d met recently and who she actually fancied, had a girlfriend.Agirlfriend who apparently ‘didn’t understand him’.Shestill couldn’t believeRickhad come out with that old crap.Shelet the vision of him float up into her mind’s eye.He’dlooked less put together the last time she’d seen him but still edible.Sheloved how his dark wavy hair flopped over his forehead in a cowlick that he brushed back impatiently and that his cheek grooved deeply when he smiled, which was often.
Pushingout a frustrated sigh, she switched on the engine and let out the clutch; the traffic was beginning to finally move.Thesunny vibe fostered by cheerful pop on the van radio, the hot weather and by having done a good job for the wedding couple disappeared.Behindher sunglasses a deep scowl developed, and her mood plummeted.
Eventually, she turned offWithycombeLaneand bumped them up the track leading toWalter’shouse.
Miaasked, ‘What’sthe house like?’
Itwas the first time she’d spoken since they’d escaped the traffic jam.Perhapsshe’d picked up on the tension. ‘You’llsee for yourself in a minute.’Daisytried to shake herself out of her strop.Itwasn’tMia’sfault all men were cheating love rats. ‘It’slateVictorianI’dsay,’ she added, feeling guilty for her previous terse answer. ‘Allturretty bits and stained glass.It’simpressive but there’s something about it that gives me the creeps.’
‘Probablyjust because there’s never anyone around.’
‘Yeahmaybe.There’snever been anyone in as far asIcould see.’
‘Maybethere’s a first wife locked in the attic,’Miasuggested and made woowoo noises. ‘Youknow, shades ofMrRochester?’
Daisygave her a sharp look.She’dhad enough of mysterious wives – and girlfriends come to that – to last her a lifetime.Shedrew alongside theFocuswhich was still parked tight against the garden gate.
Miahadn’t moved.Shewas staring up at the house, wide-eyed. ‘Ohmy eggs, it’s gorg!Daisy, you didn’t tell me how gorgeous it is.’
Theygot out of the van andDaisyreappraised the building through the girl’s eyes.Althoughit still gave off mad-woman-in-the-attic vibes, she had to admit, with its leaded windows and the fairy-tale turret which curled around the left-hand side, in the shimmeringJulyheat it was spectacular.LeadingMiathrough the garden gate she noted someone had mown the grass and tidied the flowerbeds.Thestraggly verbena had been pruned and some of the cherries had been harvested off the trees.Itwas all looking far more cared for. ‘I’vealways been in too much of a rush to notice before.Andbeing on my own, it gave me goose bumps.’
‘Ican see why.It’squite isolated up here.’
