Wildflowers (8 page)

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Authors: Debbie Howells/Susie Martyn

BOOK: Wildflowers
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After all, there’s someone out there for everyone, surely?  That certain person who when your eyes meet, suddenly you’re not looking any more. 
Like Honey and Johnny for instance.  With that spark, and something in common, beyond small talk and the merits of Australian Chardonnay.  Like riveting, witty and flirtatious conversation, full of fascinating facts and amusing little anecdotes.  And, of course, love… so why isn’t it as straightforward as it sounds?

8

 

Okay.  So my fitness level is on the up and my alcohol consumption dwindling – most of the time - but then we all need the odd night off for good behaviour.  And with my body in hand, the bigger problem seems to be my mind.  And it just so happens, completely by chance of course, my jog this morning, now up to an astonishing seven miles, takes me right past Nina’s house. As it’s a Sunday, I peer in through her window and
holy moly
-
is that
Will?

If it is, she’d be wis
e to hide him from Charlie because that’s one extremely fit man in my friend’s house.  Fit - as in toned, athletic, muscled, as I can see quite clearly as he’s not wearing many clothes – and yes, the other kind of fit too.  I need to check this out.  Just in case, well, I don’t know for sure it is Will and you never know, he could be a burglar or something…

The door opens as soon as I knock. 
‘Frankie!  What a surprise!  Hey!  You’re running – good for you!’

‘Hi!  Sorry, I er, didn’t know you had company…’  My eyes flicker towards the kitchen.

Nina grins, not fooled for a minute.  ‘He’s about to go,’ she whispers, grabbing my arm and pulling me inside.  ‘Stay!  I’ll introduce you!’

I don’t need asking twice.  I follow her into the kitchen and u
p close, I have to admit, Will is
gorgeous,
with a tan the perfect shade of caramel and warm, smiley eyes.  My whole body sighs as I gaze at him.  It would be well worth injuring yourself just to feel those firm hands on your body.  God, I sound like Charlie.  I banish the though instantly, reminding myself, this man is one hundred per cent Nina’s.

‘Will - this is
my friend Frankie…’  Nina’s gone all girly and pink and I realise, I’m probably the first of her friends to meet him.

‘Hi!’ says Will.  ‘I’ve been hearing all about you!’

‘Oh heavens, I hope not…’  I glance at Nina.  Perish the thought.  It just means someone else on the planet to prove myself to. 


Not all,’ says Nina reassuringly.

‘A
ctually, I’m afraid I’ve got to go.’  His eyes meet Nina’s and suddenly I feel in the way.

‘Oh,
well, nice to meet you, Will!  I’ll be in the er, bathroom.’  I gesture in a not very subtle way to Nina before tiptoeing away, to give them a moment alone.

My reason for
calling in - aside from checking out Will - is because I’m hoping Nina can shed some light on what’s wrong with me.  Especially now she has this lovely, shiny new relationship all of her own.  She’s radiant this morning, positively glowing as I go back in to her kitchen and she pours me a glass of water.

‘I
’m guessing I don’t need to ask how your date went…  He’s lovely, Nina!  I’m so happy for you!’


He is, isn’t he!  Oh Frankie… it’s so exciting!  He took me out on Friday, then last night, I cooked here and well, he kind of ended up staying.’

Her eyes twinkle at me as I raise my eyebrows questioningly.  Clearly
not in the spare room either…

‘You had a better time than I did,’ I tell her.  ‘Hot Josh asked me out. 
Took me to McCluskey’s, believe it or not.’

‘Hey
, that’s great, Frankie!  You really like that guy!’


I thought so too.  But you know, I really don’t,’ I say miserably.  ‘That’s the problem.  Last night, I found him boring and self-obsessed and I couldn’t get away fast enough.’

‘Oh
Frankie
…’

‘Worse still, because I’d been leading him on, he was expecting some
action of the naked kind.  I suppose that’s why he took me somewhere fancy, but I couldn’t even stand him kissing me.  Oh Nina, it’s what always happens. Why can’t I go out with them and like them and that’s that?’

With every sentence I feel
more and more convinced it’s me.  It has to be.  But my wise friend thinks differently.


Oh Frankie
…Maybe part of you would just like to share your life with someone.  It’s understandable – and you shouldn’t listen to Charlie.  I bet one day, even she’ll be swept off her feet.  But you know, you’re better off on your own than with the wrong guy.’

‘You think so?’ I say miserably.  ‘I’m think I’m just a magnet for wankers, Nina.  Just one nice guy is all I’m asking…’

‘You’ll find him,’ says Nina gently.  ‘As for Josh,
he’s obviously not for you, is he?  But there will be
someone
. Someone you’ll fall in love with who is just as in love with you, who’ll make you want to hang on tight to them forever... I promise!’

‘Like Will?’ I blurt
, suddenly tearful.

‘We
ll, it’s a bit soon – but it’s off to a good start! Don’t worry so, Frankie.  That Josh sounds like a ….’


Tosser
?’  I offer, biting my lip and blowing my nose noisily.

‘He’s probably an ok
ay guy but just
wrong
for you,’ says Nina, more tactfully. ‘You know, maybe you could do with a change of scene.  I know you have your business and it’s amazing how well it’s doing, but sometimes, a change is good for everyone.  Even if it’s just going somewhere different for a couple of days.  Or maybe try and catch up with your Mum?’

I’d give anything to jet off somewhere hot and exotic, a million miles from wedding madness.  Some sleep wouldn’t go amiss, either.  My mother though… If she were a fraction like other mothers, then maybe, but
as Nina knows, she isn’t. 

I grimace.  ‘I don’t even know where Julia is at the moment.  Last I heard
, she was on a yacht in the Aegean.  That was over a year ago.’


Oh Frankie
… It must be so hard.  I know you have Alice, and us, but even so.’  Nina’s voice is full of sympathy.

I find myself blinking back unexpected tears.
  Julia’s invisibility in my life is nothing new, but there are times when I can’t help but imagine what it would be like, having the proper, fully-underwired kind of support that only a mother can give. 

‘Actually, I’m lucky,’ I tell her, my voice
suddenly so hoarse that I can’t tell her the rest.  That I really am lucky and that she, Charlie, Honey, Alice – and of course, Martha - are the most important people in the world to me.

‘It’s Julia’s loss.’  Nina’s hand reaches out to mine.

I jog home, still preoccupied with thoughts of my mother. It’s just a fit of the blues, but Nina’s right, I decide. I do far too much in the company of my own head.  My business has dominated my life since it began and apart from seeing my girlfriends, I don’t actually
do
anything else.  That’s it!  I need to widen my social circle.  Join a club – a running club like Honey suggested.

 

It’s definitely one of those days.  Though I left Nina’s with the best of intentions, as if often does, life kind of gets in the way – starting with the call I get from Honey later that evening.

‘What the blazes are you playing at?’ she demands
, straight to the point as always.

‘I take it you’ve talked to Josh,’ I say
, more calmly than I feel.

‘Of course I have,’ she says
crossly.  ‘I really don’t get you sometimes, Frankie.  One minute you’re all over him and when he takes you out for dinner, and an expensive dinner at that, you give him the cold shoulder.’

I’m getting a picture here and it’s not one I like.  Not content to bad-mouth Honey behind her back, it looks like he’s been doing the same
about me, not that I can exactly tell her that.

‘It was a mistake.  I shouldn’t have gone. 
Errare humanum est
,’ I tell her.  ‘To err is human.’


Cut the Latin crap!’ she snaps.

‘Look, I’m sorry.  You can tell Josh I’m sorry.
  Actually, you know what?  Please don’t, because I didn’t drink and I stayed in control and I made a decision.  He was lousy company and I don’t owe him anything.  I’m sorry you don’t like it, but I did what I thought was right.  And now, I’m sorry Honey, but I have to go.’

And
as I slowly put down my phone, I realise in all the years I’ve known her, I’ve never done that before.  I’ve actually hung up on Honey.  I’m not sure how that makes me feel.

 

But hey ho.  My personal life may be a shambles, but my fitness is getting impressive.  I start my Monday run without any prevaricating whatsoever, just get up and out there and on with it, enjoying the warmth and the peacefulness, stopping only briefly when I pass Lulubelle.

‘You were right,’ I tell her
, when she pulls over and winds the window down.  ‘I’m still puffing but it’s definitely easier.’


Good for you!  I wish I could join you,’ she says.  She’s looking tired again, the worry showing clearly in her eyes.  ‘Only until Cosmo’s stronger, I don’t like to leave him unless I have to.’

‘Is he poorly again?’

She nods.  ‘Another infection – it’s his chest again, my poor baby.  It’s always been weak and the chemo’s made him more susceptible than before.  But,’ she rallies bravely.  ‘One day, when he’s better.  I’ll be out here with you! I’ll look forward to it!’

‘I’ll hold you to that! 
Anyway, gotta keep running!  See you!’

A
s I pound the footpaths for a few miles, not for the first time I wonder at her courage.  Her problems make my own seem insignificant.  Then on my way home I call into the shop briefly – to check for natural disasters or any other variety after the events of last week.  Carefully I look around, but amazingly all is as it should be.  Nothing’s been devoured or sabotaged and the rabbit hole is still blocked.  I’m just about to lock up, when I hear a car pull up, then a door shut as someone gets out.  A male someone, judging from the footsteps, followed by a voice just outside.

‘Hello?’

Well, stone the flipping crows if it isn’t a policeman.  A particularly tall, good looking one, with curly hair and a warm smile I’ve seen before.

‘Morning ma’am.
  I hear you’ve been having a spot of flower trouble…’

I
smooth my hair and grin back at him, wishing I looked more alluring. 

‘Is this
for real or are you dressing up?’ 

It’s
Bernice’s brother from Saturday, AKA the best man from the week before.  In my shop for the third week in a row.  And yet again I’m looking far from at my best.  He’s already seen me with the most disgusting hangover, but hot, pink and sweaty in my skanky old trainers isn’t really much better.

‘Why?  Does it look fake or something?  I thought
you girls loved a man in uniform…’  He pretends to look miffed.

I gape.  ‘You mean you really are?’

‘Yep.  Alex.’  He holds out a hand.

I take it, liking the feel of it holding mine. 
‘Frankie…But I expect you know that, don’t you, if you’re really a policeman.  You know, with access to all sorts of secret information…’

He looks mildly amused. 
‘I didn’t, actually.’


Anyway, you’re lucky you caught me – I’ve just come back from my run.’  I drop it in casually, just in case he thinks I always go around looking like this.


Cool.  How far d’you go?’

‘Not far.  I’ve only just started.  I’m planning to run a marathon.’
  And though it’s only a half marathon, he doesn’t need to know that.

‘Wow.’  He looks impressed.  ‘I did one once.  It was tougher than I thought, but yeah, it was good.  Good discipline.  Not sure I could do it again, though…’

This man is getting more and more interesting, but much as I’d like it to be, I’m guessing this isn’t a social call.

‘I hope I haven’t committed an offence, officer?’  I flirtatiously bat my eyelashes at him.  ‘Or is there a reason for this
visit?’

He nods.  ‘
Actually, can I come inside?  Only it’s about those flowers of yours - the ones that were murdered.’ 

As w
e go in, he points to this assembly of deadness at the back by the sink, still immersed in its herbicide.

‘Is that one of the vases?’

I nod.

‘Can I take it with me?  I’ll bring it back
, obviously…’ 

Now, I quite like the sound of that
, especially if he gives me sufficient warning, so that for once I can make sure I’m looking presentable.  Then he rummages in his pocket and brings out a folded up photo.

‘Is this the bloke you think did it?’

My eyes nearly pop out of my head at the sight of that mean, weasley face that’s caused me such trouble.  ‘That’s him!  Wow!  How did you find out?’

‘His name is
Tim Smith-Whitbread.  He’s a stuck-up little arse, off the record.  Likes his own way.  Used to go out with Bernie and was none too pleased when she dropped him for James, who I might add, is twice the man he’ll ever be…’

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