The Flower Shop on Foxley Street

***

Lily crept out of the house like a stealth ninja, almost snagging her thick tights on the rosebush as she darted across the drive to her van. Looking at the expansive front drive, she clicked her car open. Quietly closing the door behind her, she breathed a sigh of relief. Her little pink van was always sandwiched between her parents’ cars these days. Mum’s smart little Mini and Dad’s Volvo were normally tucked up together on the drive, but now even her van was some kind of referee between their warring vehicles.

At this point, Lily was glad that she was an only child for the first time in her life. Having brothers and sisters would have been lovely, but given this situation, she wasn’t sure that other casualties of war would have been a good thing. She turned on the engine and flicked on the radio. Reaching for a battered CD case in her door pocket, she pulled out a black CD and fed it into the player. A moment later, heavy metal blared out of the speakers and Lily pulled off the drive. A nice bit of music to blast the anger out of her before she started work.

Heading further into Westfield, Lily waved at various people as normal. Heading past the greengrocer’s, she saw Simon writing the day’s offers on the blackboard outside. Pulling up, she wound her window down. Simon jumped up, pretending like a mime artist to be blasted away with the force of the music. Lily laughed and flicked the stereo off.

‘Sorry,’ she tittered. ‘I forgot you have no taste in music.’

Simon held his hands to his chest like she had shot him. ‘Your words hurt you know, Lilypad.’

Lily rolled her eyes. ‘Oh go and cry to your One Direction records,’ she countered, pretending to wipe her teary eyes with her closed fists.

Simon snorted. ‘What can I do for you this fine morning? You still needing those jobs doing? ’Cos I tell you, I am a little busy at the minute, but I will try at the end of the month.’

Lily nodded. ‘I figured as much. So much for having my friend back from the fast lane. How’s it going with your girlfriend?’

Simon blushed and Lily realized that her friend must really be smitten. Since school, she had only seen him act that way before when Mrs Lambert had popped a button on her blouse during chemistry. It was quite a scandal, she remembered. Howard Lee had fainted, although the school had put that down to the heat from the Bunsen burners. Everyone in 9C knew different, of course. He had been nicknamed ‘Wooey Howey’ for a whole year after. Not surprising that he was a plastic surgeon now. He probably owed his career to Mrs Lambert’s breasts.

‘It’s going well,’ he stammered, clearing his throat. Lily smiled at him, and he grinned back sheepishly. He never really dated while he was away studying; Simon wasn’t the type to be a player. This girl meant something, and they both knew it.

‘I need to meet her!’ she said before she could stop herself. ‘Let’s have a night out!’

Simon looked surprised. ‘What, you mean an actual night out, with drinks and dancing?’

‘Don’t be a git,’ she scolded. ‘I mean it – let’s arrange it. I would love to meet her, and we haven’t caught up in ages.’

Simon shifted from foot to foot, looking at the ground.

‘What’s wrong?’ Lily asked, suddenly concerned. ‘You and her okay?’

‘Me and Elaine?’ His face lit up at the mention of her name, and she was so happy for her friend. When all the others had left, Simon had stayed in touch, learning his trade as an architect, nipping back when he could to pitch in with the business and see his parents. He was always there to talk to, and she was so pleased he had met someone. As kids, they had a lot in common with their parents’ businesses and expectations, and they had soon fallen into an easy friendship that had lasted through puberty and beyond.

Their parents did think that they might get together at one point, with the amount of time they spent together, but for Lily and Simon, it was unthinkable. They were as like brother and sister as two friends could be. Simon knew her as well as she knew herself, most of the time.

‘No, we are great, it’s just …’ He looked so awkward, and she realized just what had caught his tongue.

‘It’s Stuart, isn’t it,’ she stated flatly. Simon shrugged, pulling an apologetic grimace.

‘It’s just, you know, me and him, together … all night …’ He looked so nervous, and Lily knew he was not trying to upset her. Simon and Stuart had spent a fair bit of time together over the years, but they had never really gelled. It was still at the polite ‘hey up’ stage, and then the words pretty much dried up. Not even sport, the universal conversation opener of men worldwide, had bridged the gap between them.

There had been no thrown punches or beaten chests, but the nights always ended up being damp squibs when the two of them were in a room together. Not even Lily could get them to interact in any meaningful way, and she had resigned herself to having them only meet on special occasions. Given that she would want Simon as her ‘male of honour’ should the wedding ever actually happen, it was a touchy subject for everyone.

‘Okay, okay, no Stuart,’ Lily concurred. ‘I can play third wheel, be worth it to meet her.’

Simon looked relieved. ‘Great, shall we say Friday?’

Lily nodded. ‘Sounds great. Let’s do it.’

She waved goodbye, pulling away as Simon held up his hands in mock horror at her music. She flipped him the bird and turned it higher. What was it about Stuart that seemed to rub people up the wrong way?

CHAPTER FIVE

Will Singer looked every inch the thirty-two-year-old man he was. The bathroom mirror rarely did anyone any favours, but this particular winter morning it appeared to be magically channelling the mirror from Snow White in terms of stark clarity and downright truth. Who’s the hottest man of them all? Certainly not you, dude.

He had badly needed a shave. People were starting to comment on it, but the clean-shaven Will was not a great improvement. At least his dark stubble had detracted from the huge Kardashian-sized luggage wedged under his eyes. Without his hairy mask, Will felt naked, unable to hide.

Even worse was the fact that the lack of hair on his face left people free to roam over his other features, in particular the mop of hair sprouting from his head. He looked like Lionel Messi mixed with Mufasa the lion. It did well for them, but Will wasn’t sure it was such a great style for him. Any longer and he would have to buy an Alice band like Beckham. Start sporting a man bun. He was pretty sure the villagers had never seen a man bun. It might scare them enough to dust off the pitchforks and torches. He had a sudden vision of his uncle Archie dressed like Braveheart, rallying the twin set and mohair-clad villagers into action from atop a horse. ‘People of Westfield, we shall not lie down and die. The man bun must be destroyed!’

He chuckled to himself at his own humour. He would have to tell Lily that joke later.

He frowned at himself in the mirror, opening the medicine cabinet in desperation. Looking through the arrays of random creams and potions, he picked a fairly normal-looking moisturizing cream and started to massage some into his rather green-looking cheeks. Turning to his hair, he combed it the best he could, deciding in the end that he had to wear a hat for work anyway, so he could use this as a passable excuse this time.

Of course, there was nothing to say that there would be a next time at all. There shouldn’t even be a first time, but here he was, getting himself ready for the first date he had been on in years. A coffee date, in the daytime. Nothing too bad. Nothing that he should reproach himself too much for. He was just glad that the butterflies in his stomach and the elated feeling he experienced at the prospect of seeing her again were invisible to others. He could keep denying them to himself, but it wouldn’t be as easy if his feelings were on display. Will was more than used to keeping his cards close to his chest. Lily just made him feel like he wanted to show her his hand, and that feeling alone told him he had to be more careful than usual.

‘Just a coffee, Will, just a little chat, a drink, and then leave.’

He had meant to ask her advice that morning – he had been meaning to ask her for a while, but he wasn’t sure how to approach it, and whether he was playing with fire by asking her at all. He already knew, he didn’t really have to ask this particular person, but he had reasoned it in his head loosely enough to convince himself it was at least half plausible. It was the perfect excuse.

If he was truthful with himself, he would probably pick at the thread in his brain as to why he had taken this course of action, but instead he smoothed the collar of his blue shirt, smoothed down his unruly locks as best he could and, giving the mirror a final look, dashed down the stairs of his home.

Once he’d closed the door behind him, pulling on his coat as he headed down the drive, his mood lifted. He could feel the tension leave his shoulders as he put the keys in the ignition. His neighbour, Mrs Phelps, saw him from her front window and she gave him a little wave and a smile. He returned her wave, not lingering on her face for too long. He tried to keep to himself. It was easier that way, less complicated. Less chance of anyone getting hurt.

He felt the knot between his shoulder blades return. Today was a mistake – he just knew it. Yet he didn’t stop the car; in fact he even sped up a little as he hit the centre of the village. For a second he even thought of stopping for flowers. He laughed at himself when he realized how daft that was, eyeing himself in the mirror.

‘It’s official, Will. You are losing it.’

Pulling up on Foxley Street, he made sure to park a little further down from the florist’s and the coffee shop. He tucked the car out of the way, and then stepped out onto the kerb with unsteady legs. He felt like a teenager sneaking off to do something naughty, like drink vodka in the park when he should be in double maths. Passing the florist’s, he very casually tried to look in through the window without making it obvious, keeping his head studiously pointed in front of him. He couldn’t see Lily, just a customer being served by the enigmatic Roger who worked there. He thought the guy raised his eyebrows at him through the window, but with the cold air stinging his eyes he couldn’t be sure.

He walked into the café, the warm air hitting him immediately, bringing with it a smell of coffee and baked goods. It was a similar layout to the florist’s, but not as open plan, and its double front allowed for a large kitchen and serving area, leaving ample space for some comfy sofas and low tables in the front.

There were a couple of older ladies sat by the door, chatting away with a full tea service laid out on the table. Will noticed that one of them was knitting furiously, not even glancing at her busy needles. He spotted Lily then, sitting on a low sofa right in the back, her head bent over a book. He took a breath as he watched her from the doorway.

She was wearing a pair of black-rimmed reading glasses that framed her heart-shaped face, and made her straight hair look a lighter shade of blonde than usual. She often had her hair tied in a loose bun, but today he noticed she had it brushed down. It was longer than he’d thought, and he wondered how else she would differ from what he was used to seeing at the florist’s week in and week out.

She was utterly engrossed in what she was reading, and he wondered what it was that had her interest. He realized he was standing agog in the entrance when he heard a soft polite cough behind him, and as he murmured his apologies, shuffling aside, she spotted him. Her face lit up with a friendly smile, and she hurriedly thrust her book into her bag as she stood. Will managed to see the cover before it was pushed out of his view. He found himself grinning back at her.

She seemed genuinely chuffed to see him, and he realized that no one had greeted him like that in a long time. It made his body tingle with warmth, although that could be put down to his body finally warming up from the cold. He motioned for her to stay sitting down, and he walked over. He noticed that the cougher behind him had joined two other ladies, and he felt three pairs of eyes following him with interest as he made his way over. He ignored the whispers, hoping it was just his imagination that they were discussing him.

‘Hi,’ he said gently. Lily was sat with both hands on her knees now, and he noticed with a pang that she was wearing an engagement ring. He hadn’t noticed it before, and he wondered if it was a new development. He cursed himself for not seeing it before. Of course she has someone, he scolded himself. Pot, kettle?

‘Hello,’ she replied softly. ‘Do you want a coffee?’

He shrugged her off. ‘No, I’ll get them. Caramel latte, right?’

She looked surprised and nodded, blushing a little.

‘Thank you.’

Wow. I would buy her a caramel latte every day for the rest of her life if she blushed like that. He felt his own cheeks warming, and he nodded stiffly, heading to the counter before he made a fool of himself. He caught sight of the ladies as he turned, and they were still watching him. They looked amused, and he suddenly got the feeling that this café was somewhat of a fishbowl for the locals. His uncle Archie had warned him that Westfield was a bit close-knit, but he had laughed it off at the time. His uncle’s words were something along the lines of ‘Watch your back, the women folk are mad round here. Have you hitched up before you can draw breath, if ya let ’em.’

Archie had then realized what he had said, and patted his nephew on the shoulder in a conciliatory gesture. ‘You know what I mean, lad. Keep your business private eh, better for everyone that way.’

Coffees ordered, he added on an order of fruit toast, realizing that it was still only quite early and she might be a bit peckish. He hadn’t eaten either, so he ordered enough for them both. His stomach rumbled as he stood there, and he hoped no one would hear it before he ate something to pacify the grumbling. The waitress offered to bring it over, so he went to sit down, making sure to choose the sofa across from her, rather than doing what he wanted to do, which was snuggle up on hers. She was watching him when he turned around, but looked away so quickly he wasn’t sure if he imagined it.

***

Busted. Lily winced inwardly. He had been getting the coffees in, and she had been trying to work out what his bottom looked like under his winter coat. He was dressed nicely, a shiny pair of black lace-up boots with a smart pair of dark trousers, topped off with a stylish black coat, and black and white checked scarf. He had his hat on as usual, and she wondered whether he wore it all the time, or whether it was just part and parcel of the January cold.

He came back over, standing in front of the opposite sofa, and as if he had been reading her thoughts, he pulled off his scarf and coat. He turned slightly, folding them over the back of the couch, and she not only got to look at his shapely behind, but she saw a glimpse of his front, too. As he lifted his arm to pull off his hat, his dark blue shirt rode up a little, flashing a peek of a washboard stomach, separated by a thin line of dark hair, which disappeared into his belt. Happy trails indeed. A girl could don a cowboy hat to ride that.

Her eyebrows shot up into her hairline at the sight, and she snapped her gaze away quickly to regain her composure before she sat down. Looking across the café at, well, anything but his taut stomach, she locked eyes with a grey-haired lady who was knitting. If Lily hadn’t been so flustered, she would be convinced that the woman was laughing at her, but she pushed the thought from her mind.

‘So,’ he said, bringing her attention back to him. ‘I realized this morning that I didn’t even introduce myself the other day. I’m Will Singer.’

He held out a hand to shake hers. She took it, and jumped as a shock passed between them, like static. He seemed to jump too, but he didn’t let go. In fact, his grip tightened a little. She looked straight at him in surprise, and saw that he was looking right back at her with his large puppy dog eyes.

‘Hi, Will,’ she breathed a little too quietly. ‘I’m Lily Baxter.’

He nodded, giving her hand a tiny shake in greeting. He clenched his fist a little tighter, moulding her hand into his, and her engagement ring – which was a little loose since Stuart had neglected to get her size, or get it adjusted – dug into her pinkie finger. She wasn’t mad at the time; after all, asking for a girl’s ring size is a bit of a giveaway. Unless he could have stolen one off her finger, how else would he have found out? She should just get it adjusted herself, but that would involve asking him who made the ring, and she didn’t want to get into yet another financial conversation with him about the cost of the ring, blah blah blah. Money was always a little bit of a sticking point in their relationship.

She realized that Will was looking at her ring himself, and she broke the grip as quickly as she could. She was about to explain, mention Stuart, but the waitress came to the table with their order on a tray and they both sat back on their respective sofas, the spell broken. Lily clasped her hands together on her lap, covering her trinket, suddenly feeling as though the band was on fire.

‘Hello, Lily Baxter.’ To his credit, Will never skipped a beat in the conversation. ‘So, how’s your day going so far?’

‘Pretty rubbish, as it goes,’ she replied, picking a piece of fluff from her midnight blue dress and reaching for her coffee. Wait – what? She flicked her eyes to his as she took a deep gulp of her latte. It nearly burned her tongue out, but she pushed the pain away and tried to act cool. He was peering at her intently, a faint smirk playing across his lips.

‘Really? Tell me, what happened.’ He seemed to sag into the sofa a little, and he reached for his coffee. She noticed he shook a little. Nerves? Caffeine withdrawal?

‘Well, it’s parental problems actually. Are you cold?’

He looked surprised, and shook his head. ‘No, I am warming up nicely thanks. Parental problems you were saying?’

***

He couldn’t help wishing she had said something else, like that she had just called off her engagement and fancied running off with the next man who bought her coffee.

Lily huffed, taking another gulp. Will said nothing but he pushed the plate of fruit toast closer to her. She took a slice without thinking twice.

‘Yep, I am twenty-nine and I still live with my parents. It’s embarrassing to be honest, but up to now, it’s been great really. Since they retired though, it’s been a nightmare. I am thinking about moving out, to be honest. I should have done it a while ago, but I just … didn’t. I don’t know why, but something has to give.’

Will nodded, listening intently but saying nothing. She blushed under his gaze. ‘I am really sorry, I have no idea why I told you all that. How has your day been so far?’

Will pushed the plate a bit closer, and Lily took another slice, sinking her teeth into the buttery goodness. He smiled as he watched her eat it.

‘Pretty standard really. Talking to the mirror. Hating my life, the usual. Do you know where you will move to? Will you move in with your fiancé?’ She paused mid chew and he pointed to her ring. ‘I assume you are engaged, yes?’

***

Lily nodded, her mouth too full of toast to reply properly. She forced it down quickly, wiping at her mouth with a napkin.

‘Yes, sorry, I should have said when you asked.’ He said nothing, sipping his drink. ‘And … what about you? Have you lived in the village long?’ She was floundering and she knew it, grasping at any question to change the subject. Deflect from the fact that she had accepted a date whilst being engaged to another man. A man she loved, despite her recent reservations. A man who had asked her to marry him, and had gone to the trouble of buying her a ring. She pushed down the pang of guilt she felt in her gut.

Will luckily threw her a gentlemanly lifeline and didn’t push further. Or, this isn’t a date, Lily reminded herself. He’s a nice man, who probably needs a friend, dealing with a hijack by a crazy woman the kindest way he can. He seemed to be thinking about something, so she stayed quiet, waiting for him to speak. The less she spoke right now the better.

She looked at his lashes as he took a sip from his drink. They were as dark as the rest of his hair. Manly, but long and feminine at the same time. They dusted his lower lashes as he looked down. Lily imagined what they would feel like fluttering against her cheek. The man before her was so unlike Stuart in every way. As was the way he made her feel. If only she didn’t have verbal diarrhoea today. If only she didn’t look like a cheating predator. If only …

Will looked at her then, offering her a small smile. He looked distracted. Probably planning his escape over the table tops.

‘I have lived here about a year, moved from Harrogate. Fresh start. My parents passed some time ago so it’s nice to be around family. My uncle Archie works for the estate locally, so I have roots here too. I actually wanted to pick your brains a little about the local area, if I could.’

Lily nodded, the smile freezing on her face. So this wasn’t even a date at all, but a business meeting. She was a little confused now, but having her relationship status uncovered before she’d had a chance to mention it had wrong-footed her. She had no right to feel disappointed, but she couldn’t ignore the punch she felt in her gut. Maybe him screaming and vaulting out of the café would have felt like less of a rejection.

‘I will help, sure,’ she said, moving her head like a nodding dog. ‘Lived here all my life, will probably die here too.’ Wow. Good job it wasn’t a date, ’cos that was smooth. Pity party for one.

***

Will laughed awkwardly, his heart going out to the girl in front of him. The truth was, he had been wanting to ask her some questions about the area, to suss out possible work, but when she had mistakenly alluded to a date, he had seized the chance without thinking. It hadn’t been his plan at all, even though he had definitely noticed her before. Who wouldn’t notice her? She was beautiful; her piercing green eyes and blonde hair were like catnip to him. She had no clue just how lovely she was, but Will sure did. He felt a stirring in his gut.

‘Great!’ He sat forward, resting his elbows on his knees. He was trying for jovial and friendly, but he came off as slightly manic. To him, anyway. Lily leaned forward too and he caught a hint of her perfume. She smelled like flowers. Go figure. He resisted the urge to take a deep whiff of her. ‘I am a landscape gardener and …’

‘I knew it!’ she exclaimed suddenly, bouncing on the spot. He jumped and she laughed. The ladies turned their heads to look at the commotion. Lily went bright red, and put out a placating hand to them. They nodded, and went back to talking quietly. ‘Sorry.’ She giggled, a little ashamed by her reaction but apparently grateful for the distraction. ‘I just knew you had to work outside.’

Will looked at her in puzzlement, which made her shrink with embarrassment.

‘Your hands,’ she exclaimed, reaching for one of them, turning it palm up. Her touch sent a shiver down Will’s arm, and he knew she must have felt it. Will felt like she had woken him up from a dream. It was as though they were charged to each other, like static fizzing between them. He kept his hand relaxed, not wanting to do anything that might make her let go. He was taking a chance here, a risk, but he couldn’t stop himself. She seemed to realize what she had done, and she gently released him. Will could feel the warmth leave his skin.

‘Working hands, you see?’ She held both her palms up to him, and he noticed she had calluses on her hands too, the odd scratch and scrape dotted on her fingers.