18
Florence
Florence had got word from Rose that Dr Tully was going to be at the practice for lunch, so she sat patiently in the waiting area for him to come down from upstairs.
‘Not sure why you want to run your story by Gilbert,’ said Rose, putting away some paperwork.
‘Agatha was his aunt. He might not want me writing about her.’
‘That makes no sense when you did it anyway, Florence.’
Florence could hardly argue with that. ‘I want to see what he thinks about me going to Zeke with the article.’
Rose motioned towards the folder in Florence’s arms. ‘Is that it there?’
‘Yes.’
‘Looks a bit more than an article.’
‘I got carried away.’
‘How carried away?’
Florence cuddled the pink folder. ‘I found I couldn’t write the love story in just a few paragraphs. I did some research on what it was like around here during that time, and I guess I expanded slightly on the tale.’
Rose chuckled. ‘You wrote a book?’
‘Not that much. Perhaps a short story.’
Dr Tully walked around to the desk. He was about to kiss Rose on the cheek when he noticed Florence sitting there. ‘Oh.’ He straightened immediately, making Rose smile.
‘It’s all right, Gil. Florence knows about us.’
Florence pulled her lips in as she nodded, not really knowing what to say about their secret.
‘Oh,’ he repeated.
‘I think it’s lovely,’ Florence decided, feeling the need to say something after all.
‘Erm, thanks.’ Dr Tully didn’t look as though he knew how to handle his secret in Florence’s hands.
She thought it best to settle him. ‘Your secret is safe with me.’ And she added a sharp nod.
His head twitched a little. ‘It’s not a secret as such.’
Florence stood, clutching her love story. ‘You know what, it shouldn’t be at all. Two people in love should be able to share their news.’
Rose agreed. ‘I’ve been thinking it might be time, love,’ she said to Dr Tully.
‘Are you sure, Rose?’ His hand slipped to the side of her face, tucking back a strand of her hair, and Florence melted slightly at the affection between them.
‘We can’t go on like this, Gil. It’s daft at our age.’
Florence mentally nodded, thinking she should perhaps leave her story to another time.
‘We’ll talk about how best to approach this later.’ Dr Tully turned to Florence. ‘And as for you, why are you here?’
Rose cleared her throat. ‘Florence has written a story about Agatha, and she wants you to read it to see what you think.’
‘I wrote it for the newspaper,’ said Florence, dipping back to one heel. ‘It was supposed to be my way of apologising for writing the… mean stuff about Stefan. I thought I could balance out my karma by adding something sweet to the paper.’
He raised his eyebrows. ‘So, it’s more about your karma than an apology.’
Florence frowned. ‘It sounds awful when you put it like that. That wasn’t where I was coming from. I just wanted to do something nice.’
‘And you figured plastering my aunt’s love life all over the island would do the trick, hmm?’
Rose nudged him. ‘Give the girl a chance, Gil. At least have a nosey in her file there.’
His podgy nose twitched as he sniffed. ‘All right, let’s see.’
Florence held off squealing with delight as he moved to the seat by her side. She sat and opened the file, handing over the sheets of paper. ‘It ended up a bit of a short story.’
Rose came around to sit at his other side, peering over to read with him.
Florence wasn’t sure how long it would take the pair to read eight thousand words, so she stood to mooch over by the front door.
Outside looked as peaceful as ever, and the heat had died down. She thought a picnic with Stefan and Lindy might be nice.
I’ll suggest it when they get back from the centre. Something in the garden perhaps. Lindy will like that. I wonder how she’s getting on .
Florence scratched her head, examined her lilac fingernails, thinking a manicure was due, then walked over to the desk and imagined Agatha standing by the elderly sweethearts, peeping over their shoulders to read about herself.
Oh, Agatha, what are we going to do with you? It’s not fair you’re stuck here in limbo. You should be free somewhere with your one true love .
She sighed, then sat down and picked up a magazine to browse for a while.
‘Hmm,’ said Dr Tully, jolting Florence.
Rose smiled widely. ‘Aww,’ was all she added, leaving Florence none the wiser.
‘Have you ever considered writing short stories, Florence?’ asked Dr Tully.
‘Not really. I’ve only written articles.’
‘This is very good, love,’ said Rose. ‘A magazine might want it.’
Florence glanced at the one about to slip from her lap. She placed it back on the table and sat forward. ‘Do you think.’
‘I think, with this talent, you could publish your short stories by yourself,’ said Dr Tully. ‘My dad used to write short stories. His were horror ones, but it doesn’t matter what genre you write, there is an audience for shorter reads.’
Rose agreed. ‘I don’t have much time to get through big novels. Snack size suits me.’
Dr Tully tapped the top piece of paper. ‘You could stretch this out a little further, Florence. Add more fiction.’
Rose lightly clapped. ‘Ooh, you could write lots of love stories set here on the island. Set them all in the past like this one.’
Florence found her mind whirling with ideas as the suggestions came her way. Could she really self-publish some stories? Cody had with his graphic novels, and he was doing all right.
‘Don’t dither, love,’ said Rose, as though reading her mind.
‘You can ask around. See if anyone’s got an old love story about their grandparents they’d like to share. Give you some ideas to base your stories on,’ said Dr Tully. ‘Pepper Bay stories, set in the past.’
Rose clutched her chest as she beamed. ‘Aww, like my grandparents. They met on a fishing trawler.’
Florence frowned. ‘How did they meet on one of those?’
‘He’d come over from the mainland and was looking for work. My nan was already working on the trawler.’
‘Your grandmother was a fisherman?’
Rose chuckled. ‘I think more fisherwoman.’
‘Oh,’ said Florence, trying to imagine herself in the role for a moment.
‘Go for the old days, Florence. I don’t know why, but they always seem more magical. Probably wasn’t as romantic as we like to believe. You know, lack of plumbing and all that.’
‘No antibiotics,’ said Dr Tully.
‘Or central heating.’ Rose shook her head.
Florence visualised crackling fires and candlelight. ‘I could write about such times.’
Dr Tully handed back her story. ‘With the research you’ve put into this, I’d say so, young lady.’
‘I’ll read them,’ said Rose, making Florence smile.
‘But what about me making amends with Island News ?’
Rose nudged Dr Tully’s arm. ‘You got her fired. Perhaps it should be you apologising.’
‘Nonsense.’ Dr Tully looked at Florence. ‘I couldn’t have articles like that written about any doctor here. This practice has a good reputation.’
‘I know,’ said Florence. ‘And you don’t have to say sorry to me. It was all my own fault, and I did apologise. I just felt giving something nice to the paper was the right thing to do.’
Dr Tully sighed. ‘Okay, Florence. I can see you truly are sorry. Do you want me to get you your job back?’
‘No, that’s not what I’m after, but thank you. That’s pretty decent of you, considering.’
‘We all make mistakes,’ said Rose.
Dr Tully nodded. ‘We do, and you don’t have to create feel-good stories for the paper to make amends. Saying sorry is enough.’
‘And it was all sorted straight away,’ said Rose, curling her arm around Dr Tully’s.
Florence sighed. ‘I’ve never really stopped feeling bad about it though.’
Rose gestured at the door. ‘If Dr Bedford forgave you, I’d say you’re off the hook. He was the one who was hurt the most.’
Florence remembered. ‘We’re good friends now.’
Dr Tully waggled a finger. ‘Then that’s all that’s needed. You take your stories and share them in your own way.’
‘Do you think Agatha would mind?’ Florence perused the room.
‘Poor Agatha,’ said Rose. ‘She shouldn’t be lurking. It’s not right when dead people aren’t resting.’
‘I thought that.’ Florence turned to Dr Tully. ‘Isn’t there anything we can do to help her move into the light?’
He breathed out a small laugh. ‘They’re just ghost stories, my dear. She’s not really here.’
Rose pulled back from him and shook her head. ‘I feel her presence sometimes, Gil. I’m sure she’s here.’
He smiled her way. ‘Well, you could always get Josephine Walker up here with her cronies to do whatever they do to send ghosts into the light.’
Rose’s eyes lit up. ‘Really? I didn’t think you’d be into that sort of palaver?’
‘I’m not, but if you all believe Agatha is trapped here, then I’m not going to complain about you trying to set her free. I want my aunt to rest in peace too.’
‘I was thinking more about her being with her one true love,’ said Florence. ‘He must be wondering where she is.’
It seemed as though Dr Tully was about to say something, but he met Rose’s eyes, then closed his mouth.
Rose turned to Florence. ‘We’ll make the arrangements to help Agatha be with Walter. You leave that to me, love.’
Florence smiled to herself at the thought of Agatha seeing her sweetheart again.
The sound of a car crunched on the drive outside, and Florence just knew it was Stefan. She jumped up to look, then smiled when she saw him faffing with his hair in the rear-view mirror.
‘Is that Dr Bedford?’ asked Rose.
‘Yes,’ replied Florence, still peering through the glass in the top of the door.
‘Go show him your story and let him know our idea about you writing more.’ Rose flapped her away. ‘Go on.’
Florence gathered her things and went out to greet Stefan.
‘Oh, hiya,’ he said, clambering out the car. ‘Lindy’s staying at the Seaside Centre for the afternoon. You’ll never guess what, she’s only asked if she can join their school. How’s that for progress?’
Florence couldn’t help herself. She pulled him in for a hug. ‘That’s brilliant. I knew she’d bounce back.’
‘I’m so glad we moved here. It’s made the world of difference.’ He stepped out of her hug, but she realised she was holding his elbows so dropped her hands.
‘How about a picnic in the garden to celebrate? We could make it our dinner out there later.’
‘Love that idea, but I’ll need to pop to the supermarket and get some bits.’
Florence smiled. ‘I can help.’
He pointed at her folder. ‘Is that something you’ve brought over for me?’
She gazed at her arms. ‘Oh, no. It’s nothing.’ After hearing about Lindy’s news, she didn’t feel it was the best time to talk about herself.
Stefan narrowed his eyes in amusement. ‘Hmm, now I’m intrigued.’
‘Show him your story,’ shouted Rose from the doorway of the windmill, causing Florence to turn and frown her way.
‘What story?’
‘The one I wrote about Agatha. I was going to show you, but I thought I could do that another time. Today is about Lindy.’
Stefan pointed at the file. ‘We can make today about you too. Come inside and I’ll make you a sandwich, then I’ll read while you make a shopping list for everything we’ll need for dinner. Sound like a plan?’
‘Sure. But I won’t stay late, as I’ve arranged with Tyler to view the flat this evening.’
‘That’s fine. We’ll have an early picnic dinner.’
‘Great.’
‘I take it Gilbert was okay with you writing about his aunt.’
Florence nodded. ‘It was his idea that I write more short stories and publish them myself.’
‘I guess you’re out of his bad books then.’
She turned to see Rose slip back inside the windmill. ‘Yes.’ She looked at Stefan as he opened his street door. ‘As long as I’m not in your bad books, all is okay.’
He grinned. ‘You, Miss Leyland, are definitely not in my bad books. Not even close.’
She wasn’t quite sure what he meant by that and decided not to ask. Lunch was due and a picnic to organise for Lindy. And on top of that, a fisherwoman had entered her mind, telling her story about a new crew member and a night beneath a thousand stars so very long ago.