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Daisytried not to be nosy but couldn’t help but glance through the patio doors and into a sitting room.Oneof those upright chairs designed for the elderly, with a footrest, a saggingsofa in an old-fashioned flower print, a few photographs on the mantelpiece over the gas fire.Nostray cup on the coffee table, no discarded newspaper.Itwas tidy and completely devoid of human life.Thehouse seemed to be holding its breath, even the dust motes were held in suspension.Itwas all very odd.Shehoped whoever received the flowers would enjoy them and the poem.Andshe hoped they’d be back to rescue them soon.
Shehalf-wished she could stay longer, partly to enjoy the tranquillity, partly to see if the mysteriousWwould turn up and she could meet him.Givingin to her pressing timetable, she sighed and went back to the porch.Puttingthe tulips into the bucket of water she hoped it might keep them going until they were collected.Tulipswere prone to drooping.Andjust who was thisW?Shesmiled.Miawas so insistent theWstood forWalterthat they all called him that now.
Asshe got into her van and started the engine, she gave the house one last look.Shedidn’t like the thought of it being left empty.Itlay at the end of a private unadopted track and was isolated.Aneasy target.Weirdly, she was getting fond ofWalterand his love for flowers and poetry; she didn’t want anything to happen to his lovely old home.
Afterbattling the tourist traffic to make the rest of her deliveries,Daisyarrived back at the shop in dire need of a cold drink and a shower.Shevaguely heardMarioncall out, ‘Bye’ on her way out, turned up the shop radio and sank a pint of water in the kitchen.DonnaSummer’s‘HotStuff’ pulsed out sexily fromBayRadioreplacing aBeachBoysclassic.Itwas their local radio station and played nothing but golden oldies.
Shetugged her apron over her head while stumbling through to the shop.Flickingback her hair from a hot face, she found herself face to face with a customer.Hewas dark-haired, tallish and lean; a stranger and the same man who had said hello that morning all those weeks ago.Hewore chinos and a white shirt and looked as cucumber cool as she feltflustered.
‘I’mso sorry,Ihad no idea you were waiting.’
‘Nota problem.I’veonly this minute walked in.’Hesmiled, making some long unused muscle inDaisy’sheart go twang.Crinklydark eyes and the most sardonic pair of eyebrows she’d ever seen.Thesmile, creating a deep groove down one cheek, wasn’t making her any less perturbed.
‘WhatcanIget you?’
‘I’dlike some flowers please.’
Daisyrecovered herself and laughed. ‘Well, you’ve come to the right place.’
Hehad the grace to look embarrassed. ‘IsupposeIhave.’
‘Haveyou any idea of type, or price?’
Heshook his head, looking confused.
‘What’sthe occasion?Birthday?Anniversary?’
‘Apology.’Hegrimaced. ‘Eatinghumble pie.Mygirlfriend andIhad an argument and it’s to say sorry.’
‘Ah.’Ofcourse a man as gorgeous as this would have a girlfriend.Daisywalked from behind the counter. ‘Wehave some lovely globe chrysanthemums,’ she said, pointing them out. ‘Thewhite ones mean truth and the red ones meanIlove you, althoughI’mnot fond of red and white flowers together.’
‘Norme.’
Daisygave him a questioning look.
‘I’maSpursfan.TottenhamHotspur.’
Shepulled a face. ‘Nowit’s my turn to be bamboozled.WhatIknow about football could be written on a pansy flower.’
‘Ourmain rivals areArsenaland they play in red and white.’
‘OhIsee.Ithink.Sortof.Sorry.Football’snot my thing.’
Helaughed. ‘Well, we’re even then asI’mnot a flower person.Whyaren’t you keen?Onmixing red and whiteImean?’
Daisywrinkled her nose. ‘I’mnot sure.It’snot a very subtle colour combination of course butIhave some distant memory of it being unlucky.Somethingto do withWorldWarOneand blood on bandages.’
‘ThenI’lldefinitely avoid.’
‘Ohdear.Wasthe argument that bad?’
‘Ohyes.’Helet out a low breath.
‘Justhow much grovelling do you have to do?’
‘Let’sjust say price is immaterial.’
‘Ouch!Inthat case, how about these beautiful gladioli?Thepale pink and white look classy together and they make a very dramatic statement.’Shereached down and plucked a couple of blooms from their bucket.
