The Little Island Flower Stall

Chapter Sixteen

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

It was strange not to get a reply to her text, but Bella was busy, and she didn’t have time to worry about it. She had to assume Rory was busy as well. Too busy to read a text and type out a quick response? That seemed less likely, and though the notion bothered her, she had no choice but to trust there was a perfectly good explanation that she’d hear all about when they met up at lunch.

But as lunchtime approached and there was still no word on their arrangements, Bella decided to text again:

Hey, you haven’t forgotten about our lunch date, have you? I don’t know if you got my last text, but I have something massive to tell you. Let me know what time you think you’ll be able to make it.

She reread it, worried for thirty seconds whether she’d got the right tone or not and then pressed send anyway.

By this time, Celestine was at the stall. She’d been chatting to Michel from the patisserie while Bella was messaging Rory.

‘How about some nice freesias?’ Bella heard her ask.

‘That sounds perfect,’ Michel replied. ‘How much will that be?’

‘Depends how many you want…’ Bella glanced over to see Celestine hold up an armful of flowers. ‘That all right for you?’ Michel nodded. ‘That’ll be five pounds then.’

‘I’ll take that while you arrange them,’ Bella said. She smiled at Michel as he handed over a ten-pound note. ‘How’s business?’

‘Good,’ he said. ‘Always is once the tourist season gets under way. How did you enjoy the Liberation Day celebrations?’

‘They were brilliant, weren’t they?’ Bella passed over his change. ‘I might have to come over next year for them.’

‘Unless you’re still here,’ Celestine said as she wrapped Michel’s flowers in some paper. She handed the bouquet to him. ‘I’m working on persuading her to stay when her six weeks is up.’

‘Well I wish you luck,’ he said with a smile. ‘You seem to make a very good team here.’

He went on his way, and Celestine turned to Bella. ‘I mean it, you know. I’d love you to stay.’

‘I know, but I’m not sure I can. Isn’t it difficult? There are things to be sorted at home, and…’

Bella’s mind went back to Sean and their divorce. She’d barely given him a single thought over the past few days, and certainly not when she’d kissed Rory the night before. There was no reason why Sean deserved any guilt over that, so why did she feel it? Yes, they’d made marriage vows, but it wasn’t as if he’d kept his, so why should she feel bad for doing the same? Even Celestine had been on her side there, despite coming from a generation that viewed marriage far more conservatively. Perhaps she should have waited until things were final with Sean before she started something with someone else, but then, who knew how long the divorce would take? If Sean decided to be awkward, it might be years.

Then there was the matter of money. She’d tried not to think about how much it was going to cost, but she’d have to do that sooner or later. She needed a job, one that actually paid a wage rather than the food and board she was getting from Celestine, lovely as that was. She was owed half of the house she’d lived in with Sean, but he’d made it clear he was going to go out of his way to make sure she didn’t get it. He might succeed too, and then what?

She was spared going into a misery spiral by a flurry of customers. It was a shame she couldn’t stay here and work at the stall forever with her aunt, because she loved the work, she loved being with Celestine and she loved Jersey most of all. She could see an amazing life here. Perhaps there would be a way to make that happen, but she couldn’t see it yet.

By the time she’d seen off the last customer of their rush, she checked her phone to see there was a text message from Rory.

I’m so sorry I won’t be able to make it today, something’s come up. I’ll call you when I can.

Bella frowned at the screen of her phone.

‘Everything all right?’

She looked round to see Celestine watching her with concern in her features.

‘Hmm…it’s just Rory. He can’t meet me today. Something came up.’

‘That’s a shame,’ Celestine said. ‘Have you told him about…?’

‘Not yet. I wanted to do it in person – it’s not the sort of thing you discuss over a text message, is it?’

‘I wouldn’t know – I’ve never sent one. I’m sure I’d want to talk about it face to face too, though.’

Bella went to straighten up a bucket of roses. She didn’t know what to do. Should she try to message Rory with what she knew about Violette? It seemed too complicated and delicate for that. She supposed she could wait until he called. She supposed she would have to.

She decided to wait until they’d closed up the flower stall and then try to get hold of him. She’d hopefully get an explanation for his no-show then, and she’d be able to tell him what she’d learned about Violette.

‘I might get a sandwich from the crab shack,’ she said to Celestine. ‘I was waiting to meet Rory but there’s no point now, and I’m starving.’

‘Do you still want to take your break?’

‘No, no point; I’ve got nowhere I need to be. How about I get us both a sandwich and we can eat it here?’

‘That sounds lovely,’ Celestine said. ‘I am going to miss you when you go back to Shrewsbury, you know.’

‘I’ll miss you,’ Bella said. She paused. Something else was bugging Celestine – she could tell. ‘What’s wrong?’

‘Nothing.’

‘You don’t seem…Is it about our conversation last night? I’m sorry if I overstepped?—’

‘No, it’s not that. Well, perhaps it is, but you haven’t done anything wrong. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it.’

‘Have you decided if you’d like to see Violette?’

‘I’m not sure I ought to. I haven’t enquired about visiting yet, and now that I think about it, I don’t know if I will after all.’

‘I think you should,’ Bella said. ‘You should try to talk to her.’

‘What if she doesn’t want to listen? She never wanted to listen before. She didn’t want to listen to me or Anais?—’

‘That was then. There’s been enough time for a whole ocean to pass under the bridge. Rory said…’

‘What?’ Celestine asked.

‘He told me her memory’s not good. She might not recognise you even if you do go.’

‘There then. There’s no point.’

‘I don’t know about that. I was thinking it might make things easier. You can go and say your piece. I don’t know that it even matters whether she knows what you’re talking about or not, because at least you’ll have got it off your chest.’

Celestine shook her head. ‘It matters. In some ways I feel it’s selfish of me to go.’

‘Why?’

‘I’m the only person who would feel better afterwards. It wouldn’t change anything for Violette.’

‘You don’t know that. She might appreciate the opportunity to hear your side of things and to make peace with you. What’s the worst that can happen?’

‘She can tell me to get out.’

‘Then you’ll get out, but you’ll know you tried.’

Celestine fiddled with the buttons on her cardigan. After a moment of silence, she turned back to Bella. ‘You’re right. Would you be able to call the home from your mobile phone for me? Otherwise I’d have to wait until we’ve closed up here, and I might lose my nerve by the time we get home.

‘Of course I will. I’ll do it now.’

‘Have your lunch first. There’s no hurry.’

Bella grabbed her handbag. ‘If you’re sure because there’s no rush for me to eat either.’

‘Didn’t you just say you were hungry?’

‘I did, but this is more important.’

‘Go and get your sandwich,’ Celestine insisted. ‘Half an hour won’t make a lot of difference.’

‘Shall I ask if we can go over when we’ve closed the stall?’

‘Perhaps it will be too late for Violette then; she might be tired. We’ll go?—’

‘No you don’t!’ Bella said. ‘Let’s close up as quickly as we can and get a taxi straight to the home – that way you won’t have time to change your mind.’

‘What about…weren’t you going to phone your gentleman friend?’

‘Rory? I’m sure he can wait. I doubt we’ll be long at the home – not if Violette is as frail as Rory says.’

‘All right then – if you think that’s best.’

‘I don’t mean to tell you what to do, but it’s what I’d do.’

‘Then we’ll go as soon as we’ve closed.’

‘What do you want from the shack for lunch?’

Celestine folded her hands together in her lap. ‘I don’t think I’m very hungry now.’

Bella could understand why that would be – Celestine was probably nervous now they’d made their decision to see Violette. But Bella also firmly believed it was the best course of action, regardless of how it might or might not affect Rory. She decided to buy a sandwich for her great-aunt anyway, just in case she changed her mind, and when she got back, she’d call the retirement home and arrange their visit.

Bella looked up from where she was counting the cash in the till ready to pack up the stall for the day to see Kelvin the fisherman jogging over.

‘You’ve not closed up yet?’ he panted.

‘You’ve just about caught us,’ Celestine said. ‘What can I do for you?’

‘It’s Mum’s birthday; I’ve only just remembered.’

‘That won’t do,’ Celestine said. ‘And I suppose you want me to come to your rescue so you don’t look like a terrible son?’

‘Something like that,’ he said sheepishly. ‘I could go and get her some chocolates or something, but I think flowers are more her thing.’

‘Fewer calories too. How about some tiger lilies? Or some nice orchids? In fact, I have a potted one I think she’d like.’

‘Brilliant, I’ll take that. How much?’

‘That’ll be eighteen pounds. Is that all right?’

‘Yes, let me…’

While Kelvin dug in his pockets, Bella heard a faint ringing from her handbag. She went over to get her phone out and noted an unknown number. She often ignored those but this time decided she ought to get it in case it was something to do with the divorce.

‘Yes, hello?’

‘Who’s that?’

‘This is Bella…who am I speaking?—’

The line went dead. Bella frowned at the screen. There was no number to call back on, so whoever it was would have to try again. But while she had her phone out and Celestine chatted to Kelvin, she dialled Rory’s number to see if he could talk.

It went to the answering service.

‘Hey…it’s me. I thought I might be able to catch you, but I suppose you’re busy doing…well, whatever. Call me when you can. I have stuff to tell you.’

Bella ended the call and locked her phone. When she looked up, Kelvin had already left with his orchid and Celestine was taking a printout from the till.

‘Sorry,’ Bella said. ‘I was just…I’ll finish cashing up.’

‘I’ll do it. If you don’t mind, could you pull the flowers in from the pavement?’

‘Oh, sure…’

‘Everything all right?’ Celestine asked, regarding Bella carefully. ‘Have you managed to speak to your gentleman friend yet?’

‘No…I’m probably making a mountain out of a molehill.’

‘Do you know where he’s staying? Perhaps he hasn’t noticed your calls. It might be easier to speak to him in person.’

‘Yes, but I don’t want to seem as if I’m hassling him. It might look a bit needy if I march up to his hotel demanding to see him just because he’s been busy for a few hours. I’m sure I’m not the only thing going on in his life. He has his own business with Violette, for a start. That’s a thought…’ Bella dropped her phone into her bag. ‘I suppose he might be planning to see Violette tonight too – she won’t need a whole load of visitors descending on her at once.’

‘Could you find out? I don’t think that would be a good idea either.’

‘Let me get the flowers in and I’ll try him again before we lock up. And if he doesn’t pick up, I suppose all I can do is send a message and hope for the best.’

Bella stared up at the gabled roof of Golden Hour retirement home, with its row of tall chimneys, the stretch of freshly painted sash windows with delicate net curtains set into a frontage the colour of clotted cream. The sweeping gardens were dotted with lush shrubs and bright floral beds, while the late sun was refracted through the cascade of an imposing ornamental fountain at its centre. She was taken by surprise by how beautiful it was. The serene babble of pigeons high in the trees of the surrounding woods only added to the charm. Admittedly, she didn’t exactly make a habit of visiting retirement homes, but the few she’d been to over the years had seemed desperate, dowdy, depressing places. This was not only beautiful, but it had such a tranquil feel she was half tempted to see if she could check herself in.

Bella was well aware of Celestine’s aversion to ever leaving her own home to retire in a place like this. Since her arrival on Jersey, she’d heard Celestine say the only way she’d leave Villa Rosa was in her coffin, but Bella looked at the view now and decided there were worse places than this to end one’s days.

At her side, leaning heavily on her crutches, Celestine paused and took a weary breath.

Bella turned to her. ‘Can you manage the path? It looks a bit steep and uneven.’

‘Perhaps that’s deliberate,’ Celestine said in a grim tone. ‘To prevent those trapped inside from making their escape.’

Bella gave her a small smile. ‘Come on – it’s not that bad. I was just thinking how pretty it is.’

‘A prison is a prison no matter how you dress it up.’

‘I’m sure most of the residents don’t see it that way.’

‘The ones with any faculties left would.’

‘Celestine…There are a lot of positives, surely? There’s company, help when they need it, safety when they’re feeling vulnerable, no need to worry about cooking or cleaning. I bet it’s nicer than a lot of the houses they gave up when they moved here.’

‘Perhaps. I can only say it’s not for me.’

‘I know. It’s lucky you’re so good for?—’

‘My age?’

‘Well, it can’t have escaped your attention that you’re a bit past middle age now.’

Celestine broke into a raspy chuckle that instantly dissipated the tension. ‘Those are the truest words ever uttered. I suppose we ought to go in and get this over with. Stick by me. I don’t want the staff to see me wandering around by myself and thinking I’m one of their residents trying to escape.’

‘Don’t worry; I won’t let you out of my sight.’

After buzzing at the entrance doors, they were greeted by a young woman with an impossibly perky ponytail and led down a beautifully tiled entrance hall and then through an oak panelled doorway to yet more scenic gardens at the back of the house.

‘She’s making the most of the nice evening,’ the girl said, pointing to a table and chair where an old woman was sitting silently, her eyes closed and face tipped towards the sky as if soaking up the sun. Her grey hair was long, hanging over one shoulder in a neat plait, and her arms beneath her pink cotton dress looked frail enough to snap with the force of a decent hug.

Celestine let out a gasp, and Bella’s arm shot out to steady her. For a moment, she expected her great-aunt to faint, but Celestine quickly recovered her composure.

‘Violette…’ The girl went to the table and tapped her lightly on the arm. ‘You have visitors.’

Violette opened her eyes. ‘Visitors?’

‘Yes – your friends, Celestine and Bella are here.’

She turned to look, but she didn’t show any signs of recognition. She wouldn’t know Bella, of course, but Bella’s heart lurched for poor Celestine. It must have hurt to see the blankness of Violette’s expression as she looked into the face of her old friend.

‘Hello,’ she said vaguely. Then she added something Bella didn’t recognise, though it sounded as if it might be the old Jersey French she and Celestine used to speak during the war.

Celestine replied in the same language, and then added, ‘May we sit with you?’ this time in English, perhaps switching to it for the benefit of Bella and the care assistant who’d shown them to the garden.

Violette gave the tiniest of nods. She seemed confused and began to suck on the end of her plait. The care assistant gently took it out of her mouth and smoothed it down. ‘There’s no need to worry,’ she said. ‘I won’t be far away.’

‘I can see you don’t remember me,’ Celestine began. ‘I suppose I’ve changed a lot.’

Violette pointed to Bella. ‘Who is she?’

‘This is my great-niece, Bella.’

‘I don’t know her.’

‘No,’ Celestine said. ‘You’ve never met her.’

‘Who are you?’

‘Don’t you recognise me?’

Bella helped Celestine into the chair across the table and then took a seat herself. She glanced at Celestine and could see how close she was to breaking down. Beneath the table, she grabbed hold of her hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

‘I am your Celestine,’ she continued, her hand still clasped in Bella’s.

‘Celestine?’ Violette repeated.

‘Yes. I know we haven’t spoken for many years, but?—’

‘How are you old?’ Violette asked. ‘You’re too old to be Celestine.’

‘We’re both old.’ Celestine laughed gently as her eyes filled with tears. ‘You are still beautiful, though.’

Violette shook her head uncertainly, and then she began to cry too. ‘I don’t understand.’

Celestine rummaged in her handbag and pulled out a pack of paper handkerchiefs. She gave one to Violette and then dabbed at her own eyes with a second one. Bella was tempted to ask if there was a spare one for her because she felt as if she might start too.

But she didn’t. This was Celestine’s moment – a moment too long coming, a moment she knew meant more to Celestine than anything else. Bella couldn’t imagine how it might feel to have suffered such guilt and remorse for her accidental part in Violette’s tragedy, but she knew that it had been a great burden for far too many years, and that it seemed cruel and unnecessary for her to continue to labour under its weight.

‘What don’t you understand?’ Celestine asked gently. ‘That I am here?’

‘I don’t understand how you became old. Why is your hair white?’

Bella squeezed Celestine’s hand again. Now that they were here, she wasn’t sure it had been the right thing to do after all, and she wasn’t sure how they ought to proceed. It didn’t look as if Celestine was going to get the closure she’d been hoping for, and there was a danger she’d go home more miserable than she’d been before she’d come. But Celestine seemed calm.

‘You can’t be Celestine,’ Violette insisted. ‘She does not look like you. She has red hair and freckles.’

‘I still have the freckles,’ Celestine said.

‘Celestine is…’ Violette paused, as if reaching for something in a dusty corner of her mind, something she hadn’t reached for in a long time. ‘She is my best friend.’

‘Your best friend?’ There was hope in Celestine’s voice now. ‘You think that? Because…’ Her tone flattened again. ‘Because you don’t remember what happened.’

Violette glanced at Bella again. ‘Why did you bring Dolly? ‘You know she makes such a fuss when she’s out with us.’

‘This is not Dolly,’ Celestine reminded her. ‘It’s Bella – my great-niece.’

Violette shook her head. ‘Don’t tease me, Celestine. How can you have…? Your brother is only…’

Bella could see the conflict in Violette’s eyes. She was battling to reconcile the reality in front of her with her flawed and broken memory, trying to make sense of what Celestine was telling her, and it was heart-wrenching to witness the desperation of it. But then Violette’s expression changed entirely, into something far darker and angrier.

‘Klaus…’

There was doubt in Celestine’s reply. For a moment, Bella wondered if she’d give up and leave. ‘That is why I came to see you.’

‘I don’t want you here,’ Violette hissed. ‘Go away, you snake!’

‘Violette, please?—’

‘Leave me alone!’

‘Give me one moment, Violette. Let me explain. Please look at me! I’m an old lady, not long for this world. If you ever valued our friendship, please give me a chance to explain. I can’t die without making you understand, without you knowing. I beg your forgiveness. One moment is all I ask to tell you how it happened, how sorry I am, how?—’

‘No.’ Violette shook her head.

‘But, Violette,’ Bella began, unable to stop herself, ‘at least…’

She swallowed it back at Celestine’s pleading look. Perhaps her great-aunt had a point. Violette was angry and confused, and perhaps Bella would only make it worse by getting involved.

‘Everything that happened was my fault,’ Celestine said. ‘I know that. I have spent my life knowing and regretting it. I wake every day thinking of it, and I would give anything to change it, but I can’t. I understand if you can’t forgive me, but let me at least tell you how it happened.’

‘I know how it happened,’ Violette said coldly. ‘You told.’

‘I didn’t mean to, I swear.’

‘You were jealous, and you wanted to ruin my happiness.’

‘Never! Perhaps I was a little jealous, but I would never have done anything to hurt you!’

Bella considered for a brief second that there would likely have been no happy ending for Violette, regardless of anything Celestine had done. A German soldier and a local girl and a baby born out of wedlock? But she didn’t say so. She only watched, her heart thumping for her great-aunt. She could only imagine how hard this was for her.

‘It was a stupid mistake,’ Celestine continued. ‘I didn’t realise someone could hear me talking.’

‘You shouldn’t have been talking. I told you never to mention him unless we were completely alone.’

‘Yes, and I thought we were! I forgot myself; it was a lapse of judgement. How was I to know your father was in the next room? Even you didn’t know until he told you! He was so quiet, listening – I realise that now – and I… Violette, I’m so sorry! I have spent my life being sorry!’ As Celestine’s tears rushed from her now, Bella reached to put an arm around her. But Celestine shrugged it off. ‘No,’ she said thickly. ‘I don’t deserve it.’

Sitting back in her chair, Bella noticed that Violette was sobbing now too. She considered offering her hug to Violette. She wanted to, but she wasn’t sure it would be welcome. It was hard to bear the outpouring of emotion from both women without doing something to ease it. Despite this, she couldn’t help her shock at the revelation that it was Violette’s own father who had betrayed Klaus. Surely that would have put the entire family in danger? Unless he’d been clever about it, of course. If he’d been determined, no doubt there would have been ways to do it without implicating his daughter. Bella could well imagine there was motive enough – he’d have been horrified at Violette’s involvement with an enemy soldier, and he’d have wanted to put a stop to it. Not knowing the young man and his story, he’d probably have harboured enough hatred to do something drastic, simply because of who Klaus was.

Bella watched the two women as these thoughts ran through her head. She decided, if Celestine seemed strong enough, she’d ask her more about it later. Then, to her utter shock, Violette pushed herself slowly from her seat and went to Celestine. Bella held her breath. What was Violette going to do?

Celestine turned a wet face to her; Violette placed both her hands on Celestine’s shoulders and looked down at her with compassion.

‘Is it really you?’

‘It’s really me – your Celestine. Begging you to forgive her.’

Violette gave the smallest nod. And then she started to walk back to the house.

‘What does that mean?’ Bella asked. ‘Should we go after her? That can’t be it!’

Celestine dried her eyes. ‘I think that is it. I think I have what I came for. At least, as close as I’m going to get, but I’ll take it gladly. I can’t help feeling that I shouldn’t have come.’

‘But you said you got?—’

‘I’ve caused her so much pain. It was selfish of me to bring up those memories – I’m afraid I’ve hurt her all over again.’

‘You were brave to face her after all this time, knowing how she’s always felt about you.’ Bella helped her aunt from the chair.

‘Brave? I’m not sure. Foolish, more like.’

‘Well, I’d have been scared.’

‘I was.’

Bella wove her arm into the crook of Celestine’s to help her down the path. ‘Do you regret coming?’

Celestine was quiet for a good couple of minutes, until Bella was beginning to think she hadn’t heard the question. But then she shook her head.

‘I don’t regret coming. I regret making Violette remember, but I’m glad to have seen her one last time.’

‘It might not be the last time. Now you’ve come to an understanding?—’

‘Yes,’ Celestine cut in. ‘It will be. I shan’t come again. Sometimes, the past is best left there.’