Three
‘Hey, Dad, I’ve brought you a coffee.’
‘Aw, thanks, Flora.’
Matt O’Brien looked up as Flora placed his favourite mug in front of him.
‘Whatcha doing?’
He looked down at the design in front of him.
‘Just being a little creative. What do you think?’
He pushed the garden design he’d been working on across the desk.
Flora studied it for a moment before smiling as she handed it back.
‘I like it. The colours look great and the paved path meandering through is a lovely touch. It takes you to the flowers, allowing you to appreciate them up close.’
‘That was my thinking too. I’m glad my little artist agrees with me.’
‘Graphic designer, Dad, not an artist.’
‘You started off as an artist, graphics is just your speciality.’
‘I suppose. So, is this design for a specific job? You haven’t mentioned anything.’
Matt let out a sigh. ‘No, I was just messing about.’
Flora frowned at him but didn’t say anything, clearly waiting for him to continue.
‘With Robbie being tied up on that big renovation job over the other side of Oxford, I’m stuck here picking up all the small jobs. Which is absolutely fine – I’m not objecting to the work, not by a long chalk – but I’d really love a project I could get my teeth into. I miss the challenge and the thrill that comes with turning a beast of a building into a thing of beauty.’
Flora nodded. ‘I understand. Say, tell you what, since we’re talking about things of beauty, why don’t we walk over to The Cabookeria for some cake and coffee. The rain has stopped and if we wrap up well, we’ll stay nice and warm.’
‘Taking me back to where this all began?’
‘For sure. And the fact that I really want a large slice of Sam’s fabulous carrot cake which I happen to know she makes on Fridays.’
‘Honestly, I don’t know how you stay so slim!’
‘Uncle Craig says I get it from my mum.’
‘Yeah, he’s probably right there. You are the spit of her after all.’
‘Dad, don’t you wish you’d re-married?’
‘Flora, please, let’s not go there again. Come on, coffee and cake. If we dally too long, there may be none left.’
‘Oh, good point. I’ll just go and change into my boots. I’ll see you at the front door in two minutes.’
She ran out of the room and Matt smiled at her energy. His glance fell back down to the sketch in front of him and as he stood and began rolling it up, he looked at the photograph of Flora’s mother which stood on the side of the desk. Also called Flora – apparently it was a family tradition that the first girl born was named Flora – she was her daughter’s double. The only difference was their hair. In the photograph, Flora had deep, dark auburn waves which fell and swung around her waist. Her daughter, however, had recently lopped off her own long locks and was currently sporting an Audrey Hepburn pixie look. It suited her delicate features but he missed seeing the beautiful waves that reminded him so much of the woman he’d loved and lost.
A short time later, they were walking through the bookshop to the tearoom when Matt stepped back to allow two women coming out to pass by him. They smiled their thanks before walking up the stairs to the antiques shop above.
He stood for a moment, watching them as they disappeared from view. One of the women had seemed familiar but he couldn’t put his finger on who or how and his brow wrinkled up as he stood, trying to force his brain to make the connection.
‘You okay there, Matt?’
He turned and smiled at Jenny, standing behind the counter of the bookshop.
‘Yes, thanks. Just… you know when you see someone and you’re sure you know them but can’t figure out how?’
‘Yes, I do.’
‘Just having one of those moments.’
‘Then I hope you work it out soon because I usually find those kinds of things persist in playing on your mind until you do.’
‘Hmmm, I hope so too.’
He glanced up at the ceiling, hearing the footsteps overhead, but unless she walked around tapping out her name in Morse code, he didn’t think he’d be solving the puzzle of the woman’s identity anytime soon.