The Forget-Me-Not Flower Shop: The feel-good romantic comedy to read in 2018. Tracy Corbett

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СКАЧАТЬ glanced around before nodding at one of the buckets. ‘Those red ones?’

      Evie smiled. ‘Gorgeous, aren’t they? They’re called Deep Secret.’

      Saffy tutted and muttered ‘Typical’ under her breath.

      Evie shot her a glare.

      He pointed to the pink floribunda instead, glancing at Saffy to gauge her approval. Her non-committal shrug seemed to appease him.

      ‘Sexy Rexy.’ Evie picked up the bucket. ‘Excellent choice. I’m sure your girlfriend will love them. Would you like them wrapped?’

      His face coloured, matching the intensity of the rose petals. ‘No … thanks.’ He dug out a crumple of notes from his pocket. ‘How much?’

      ‘Twelve pounds for six stems. Twenty-two pounds for two bunches.’

      He shoved fifteen quid at her as though they’d just partaken in an illegal drug transaction and grabbed the flowers. ‘Keep the change.’

      ‘I hope your girlfriend likes them,’ Evie called after him as he exited the shop.

      Saffy sniffed. ‘Cliché, or what?’

      Evie turned to her assistant. ‘May I remind you, I’m trying to run a business? Could you be a little more …’

      Saffy raised an eyebrow. ‘What? Insincere?’

      ‘Encouraging. It takes a lot of nerve to buy flowers.’

      Saffy looked perplexed. ‘Why? They’re only flowers.’

      ‘Maybe, but they carry meaning. That shouldn’t be taken lightly.’

      ‘Men are only after one thing. Once they’ve got it, they’re gone. Flowers or no flowers.’

      Evie sighed and handed Saffy a bucket of golden Belle Epoque. ‘Cut the stems, please, they need a drink.’

      Saffy took the bucket over to the sink. ‘I know the feeling.’

      Evie tried to remember how it felt to be nineteen. She was only twenty-eight herself, but being a teenager felt like a lifetime ago. Unlike Saffy, she’d been a ‘believer’ at that age, unaware of the pitfalls of love. Her parents might have divorced when she was young, but Evie had entered adulthood relatively unscathed. Poor Saffy had experienced nothing but disappointment her entire life. Her views on relationships were based on watching her mum rely on shady men with empty bank accounts. But maybe Saffy was the lucky one. If Evie had been a little more streetwise she might have seen the signs earlier and not allowed the one serious relationship she’d had to deteriorate to such an extent that she’d lost all confidence and self-esteem.

      The sound of the bell tinkling dragged her thoughts back to the present.

      Standing in the doorway was another young guy, this one with the looks and confidence of someone who knew they’d won the lottery in terms of genetics, but had the good grace not to be arrogant.

      Saffy dumped the half-cut flowers in the sink and went over to serve him.

      ‘Cool hat,’ he said, pointing to her knitted black beret.

      Saffy shrugged, but the compliment seemed to thaw her a little. ‘How can I help you?’ She glanced over at Evie as if to say, ‘See? I can do polite.’ But her smile instantly faded when the bell chimed again and Josh from the local funeral firm came in to collect a pre-ordered wreath. Her sharp blue eyes stared at him with a mixture of venom and warning.

      The poor guy had done nothing obviously wrong, as far as Evie knew, other than to show an interest in Saffy – something Saffy hadn’t taken kindly to.

      ‘Hey there, Saffy.’ As always, Josh remained completely unperturbed by her frosty demeanour. ‘Nice hat.’

      ‘That’s what I said,’ remarked Saffy’s customer.

      Saffy looked between the two young men, her expression conflicted. She clearly wanted to be rude, as discussions about her appearance were never welcome, but she fought the urge and turned her attentions to her customer. ‘So, Dream Lover or Dusky Maiden?’ She gestured towards the buckets of red floribunda on the floor.

      ‘Which do you prefer?’ He examined both. ‘They’re for a special occasion. Big date. You’re a girl, which do you like?’

      Evie caught Saffy’s eye, sending her a note of warning: Keep your opinions on love to yourself.

      Saffy took a deep breath, seeming to steel herself. ‘Either would be perfect, in my opinion. Red roses are, after all, the symbol of love.’ Even though she managed to say this without any note of sarcasm, it didn’t stop Josh from laughing.

      Ignoring Saffy’s glare, he headed out back with Evie to collect the large spray of white lilies ordered for a funeral later that day.

      ‘One day she’ll succumb to my charms,’ Josh said, handing Evie a purchase order.

      Don’t hold your breath, Evie thought, channelling Saffy’s view on her mother’s relationship with Barry the Banker. But then she chastised herself. Just because she’d been bruised by the after-effects of a bad experience, she had no right to project that negativity onto others. It wasn’t fair. Josh was young, starting out in life, oblivious to the perils of love. And although she seriously doubted Saffy was going to overcome her aversion to men anytime soon, Evie would be happy to be proved wrong. There was no reason for both women to be down on love, was there?

      Evie helped Josh pick up the heavy display of flowers, saddened by the fact that even on Valentine’s Day someone was being buried.

      Josh admired the array of oriental lilies. ‘Cheers for doing this. The family weren’t up to organising flowers.’

      ‘I didn’t mind. It was thoughtful of you to help them out.’ It still confounded Evie that someone so young had chosen such a morbid profession. But Josh seemed made for easing the trauma of grief. He was tall and gangly with an antiquated sense of style. Frock coats and top hats weren’t normal attire for his generation, but somehow he carried it off. Evie guessed there weren’t many professions that catered for teenage emos. Burying people had to be one of them.

      As Josh strode back though the shop, his black tailcoat flapping behind him, he nodded towards the large yellow hybrid tea roses. ‘I’d go for something a little less obvious myself.’ He glanced at Saffy, grinning in response to her scowling expression. ‘Isn’t she lovely?’

      The young guy nodded, his apprehension evident. ‘Er, yeah, I guess so.’

      Saffy poked her tongue out at Josh and picked up the yellow roses. ‘It’s the name of the flowers, Isn’t She Lovely. He wasn’t talking about me.’

      The young guy looked relieved. ‘Oh, right. Yeah, I get it. Not that you’re not lovely – I mean, you are, it’s just …’ His olive skin covered most of his blush.

      Josh reversed out the door, grinning. ‘Bye, Saffy. See you soon.’

      Saffy ignored him.

      Flustered, СКАЧАТЬ