The Little Island Flower Stall

Chapter Three

CHAPTER THREE

Bella wasted no time. She didn’t see the point. A matter of days later, she stepped off the twin-propellered plane onto the tarmac at St Helier airport on the little Channel Island of Jersey and was immediately hit by a barrage of childhood memories. She had a vivid recollection of walking this same tarmac as a girl with her parents, a fortnight of family holiday time stretching ahead of them. It was always sunny in Jersey; there were flowers everywhere, vast clear skies and endless sweeps of golden sand, and ice creams that tasted rich and creamy and quite unlike anywhere else. These were the images she always called to mind whenever she thought of those holidays, and she was delighted to see that Jersey remained the way she remembered it.

But her excitement at returning was laced with a subtle melancholy for the loss of those innocent days. Back then her biggest worry had been whether the shop that sold buckets and spades in the tiny resort of St Rosa, where her aunt Celestine lived, would be closed by the time they got to it. She had far bigger problems now, and her stomach churned with a strange mix of defiance, doubt and trepidation as she pulled her suitcase towards the terminal building, the wheels rumbling over the tarmac as she hurried along.

The biggest problem she faced was money. For the last fifteen years, Sean had been the sole breadwinner in their marriage. He’d insisted that she give up her job and let him provide for her, and she’d gone along with it, settling into what he called the ‘easy life’. But in doing so she’d made it easy for him to manipulate and control her. Worse, it had given him all the licence he needed to behave however he wanted. She’d been a fool, but she was learning fast. That was good. What wasn’t so good was that she now had no access to the joint bank account that had been so readily available and so healthily funded. She’d drawn out what she could before he’d put a stop to it, reasoning to herself that it wasn’t stealing, merely an advance on any divorce settlement that might follow somewhere down the line. That money was now sitting in an account she’d opened for herself, but it wasn’t going to last forever. She might earn something from her great-aunt’s flower stall, but she doubted it would be all that much – if anything. There had been no discussion of wages, only an agreement Bella would help out in exchange for room and board, so there were no guarantees.

‘It’ll work out,’ she told herself, in the same way she’d done a dozen times since she’d driven away from her marital home. If only she could believe it for half a second, she might start to feel better.

Half an hour later, she was in a taxi, speeding down fragrant winding lanes on her way to St Rosa. Full hedgerows whizzed by on either side of the car, every so often giving way to emerald fields or vast blue skies. It wasn’t yet May, but everywhere was a lush, dazzling green, bluebells growing in shaded hollows and the trees full of blossom. There were early wildflowers here and there too, most of which she couldn’t name, though they looked familiar. She supposed she’d get to know them over the next few weeks. She was looking forward to that. She was looking forward to getting to know her great-aunt all over again as an adult. There was a lingering guilt that she hadn’t been to see her since she’d got married, but life with Sean had simply not allowed it – at least that was the excuse she kept making to herself. Perhaps she could have argued with more vigour whenever he’d refused to accompany her to Jersey. Perhaps she could have fought harder to go by herself when he’d told her that he’d rather she didn’t go, despite not wanting to go with her. But Bella had to face the fact that she’d done none of those things and, with depressing regularity, had backed down, meaning she hadn’t been to Jersey in all the time she’d been married.

Celestine herself hadn’t seemed worried about any of that on the phone – in fact, she’d been thrilled at the prospect of her absent niece coming to stay and even more thrilled at the suggestion that Bella could help her to get the flower stall open again.

‘On holiday?’ The cabbie glanced in the rear-view mirror at Bella, who’d been quiet up until this point, her thoughts occupied with a thousand problems that seemed to trip over one another, leaving nothing distinct that she could even begin to process into a solution. And though she hadn’t wanted to start a conversation, perhaps it would be nice to switch off those thoughts for a moment to make idle chat.

‘Sort of,’ she said.

‘Hmm. Looking for a bit of peace and quiet, eh? Most people head to the bigger resorts. St Rosa’s not one of the better-known ones.’

‘I have family there. My great-aunt. She’s been there all her life.’

‘Oh, so you’re local?’

‘Not as such. Our branch of the family moved to England years ago. I’m not even sure when. I suppose I’m sort of an islander but not really. I did used to come all the time for holidays when I was young.’

‘Why wouldn’t you? I might be biased, but I think it’s the best place on earth. Visitors ask me: where does someone who lives on Jersey go on holiday, and I say I don’t. I stay in Jersey. I’ve got everything I could want right here – why would I spend half a year’s wages to go somewhere else that probably isn’t even as good?’

Bella smiled. ‘You have a point there.’

‘You’ve got your beaches, your countryside, the best food, beautiful towns, cracking people, sunshine…I think it’s heaven on earth.’

‘I can see why you wouldn’t go anywhere else.’

‘Where do you come from?’

‘Shrewsbury.’

‘Oh. Is it nice there?’

‘I think so. Not like here, of course, but it has pretty parts. There are worse places to live,’ Bella added, wondering vaguely where she would end up living when her six weeks on Jersey were done. The house she’d shared with Sean was in Shrewsbury, but would she even go back to the town now they were no longer together? The thought of seeing him around, perhaps with a new woman on his arm, filled her with dread, despite telling herself she didn’t care.

‘Staying for a week then?’

‘Six.’

‘Six weeks? That’s nice if you can do it. I don’t get that much time off in a year.’

‘I’m going to be working for some of it, actually.’

‘Really? Doing what?’

‘Selling flowers for my great-aunt. She has a stall on the promenade; had it for years.’

‘Sounds like a nice little number. Beats sitting in a car all day, eh? Not that I’m complaining – a job’s a job, right? And there are worse ones than this.’

‘I have no idea what to expect.’

‘Can’t be that hard, can it? Wrapping up a few daffs to sell here and there.’

‘That’s what I’m hoping.’

‘So you got somewhere to stay?’

‘Yes.’

‘Only I was going to say I’ve got recommendations if you hadn’t. If you need trips out or anything, let me know. I’ve got discount vouchers for the shell garden and all sorts.’

Bella smiled. ‘I went to the shell garden once. A long time ago. I’m surprised it’s still open. I seem to recall it being a bit mental. I didn’t expect it to be someone’s actual garden, just covered in shells.’

He chuckled. ‘Gets plenty of visitors though.’ He twiddled with the dial on his radio until the faint strains of classical music came from the car speakers. ‘Don’t mind a bit of music, do you?’

‘Not a bit.’

‘Only some don’t like it. So you’ll be here for Liberation Day then?’

Bella frowned. ‘I didn’t even realise that. We watched the parade a few times when I was young. I always wanted to be in it – used to be mad jealous of the girls sitting up on the floats. When is it?’

‘May ninth. Not long now.’

‘That’s something to look forward to.’

‘Yes, gets bigger every year. It’s turned into a bit of a tourist thing now, but as long as we remember it, I suppose that doesn’t matter so much.’

Bella turned to the window as he started to hum along to the radio. Through a break in the trees she caught her first glimpse of the sea, and her tummy did a somersault, just as it would have done as a girl. Now that she was here, whatever the reasons, she was excited to see St Rosa again. It had never made sense to her that Sean didn’t want to come here, but now she understood it. He hadn’t wanted to come because it was something that would have made her happy. Well, she’d show him. She was going to have a whale of a time here, even if it killed her.

‘Here we are…’ The cabbie let out a low whistle. ‘Lovely place your aunt’s got.’

Bella looked out at Villa Rosa. It wasn’t big enough to truly deserve the name – hardly a villa and more of a townhouse – but it was pretty. Nobody could remember who’d given the house its name, and nobody had seen any point in changing it over the many years it had been in the family. It was tall, shoulder to shoulder with its neighbours, double-fronted and the rendering a rose-pink worthy of its name. The sash windows looked as if they were long overdue a lick of paint, as did the front door, but something about the shabbiness added to the house’s charm. The front garden was, as Bella would have expected, bursting with trees and shrubbery. There was a cherry tree, heavy with blossom, in its shadow clumps of bluebells, and along the front wall were rows of daffodils. A fat seagull stood on the chimneypot and regarded Bella with beady eyes as she got out of the car and paid the driver. She looked up and stuck her tongue out at it as he went round to the boot for her cases.

‘Don’t even think about coming for my ice cream.’

‘What was that?’ The driver slammed the boot shut.

‘Oh.’ Bella couldn’t help but smile. She nodded up at the gull. ‘Just having a word with that fella up there.’

He let out a chuckle. ‘They need having a word with – monsters, they are. Will you be all right with your luggage?’

‘Yes, perfectly. Thanks.’

He pulled a business card from his shirt pocket and handed it to her. ‘If you need any ferrying about while you’re here, I’d appreciate the business. That’s my number…You can WhatsApp me too, if you’re so inclined.’

‘I will. Thank you.’ Bella glanced at the card and smiled. ‘Brian. That’s my dad’s name, so I definitely won’t forget it.’

Before she’d made it halfway down the path, the front door opened. A trim old lady, white hair cut short, wearing beaded earrings and an elegant seventies trouser suit was leaning on crutches, ankle bandaged and beaming at Bella.

‘Oh my goodness! Look at you!’ she cried in a voice that had far more vigour than her tiny frame might suggest. ‘All grown up! And so beautiful!’

‘Hello!’ Bella made her way over. Celestine’s broad smile was so infectious that she couldn’t help sending one every bit as bright back in return. ‘You look really well.’

‘I can’t complain, in the circumstances. I could be a lot worse off, though this pesky ankle business is frustrating. How was the journey?’ Celestine cast a glance at Bella’s luggage. ‘Is that all you have, or is there more to follow?’

‘No more to follow – this is it. I didn’t see the point in bringing loads when you have a washing machine…I’m assuming you have a washing machine…right?’

Celestine laughed lightly. ‘I might be ancient but I don’t still do my smalls on a rock in the river. Of course I have a washing machine. You’re more than welcome to make use of anything I have; while you’re here, consider Villa Rosa your home.’

Bella followed her inside. Celestine moved slowly, of course, but she seemed to be managing her injury well. It gave Bella time to take in the house, and she was hit by a sudden rush of memories. It was like time had stood still and she was ten years old again, visiting with her parents. Everything looked exactly the same. Bella imagined that her aunt must have decorated during those thirty years, and that her mind must be playing tricks on her, but the familiarity was so uncanny she couldn’t shake it. It even smelled the same, of beeswax polish and cut flowers in vases and little sachets of dried lavender that Celestine had always kept in every drawer. From nowhere, Bella’s eyes filled with tears. How she wished she could have that little girl back. She sniffed hard. The last thing she wanted to do was get upset in front of her great-aunt.

‘I must say,’ Celestine said, easing herself into a wing-backed chair in the living room while Bella left her cases at the door and took a seat on the sofa, ‘I’m still surprised you’ve come. Not that I don’t appreciate it, of course – it’s very kind of you. I would completely understand if you decide you can’t stay for the whole six weeks.’

‘There’s not much for me to be at home for right now, if I’m honest.’

Bella chewed the inside of her cheek for a moment. She hadn’t told her aunt the whole story of her split from Sean. In fact, she hadn’t told her about the split at all. She wasn’t sure why, now that she considered it. Had she feared some old-fashioned disapproval? Perhaps, but she realised now that she ought to be straight about her circumstances from the start.

‘I left my husband, actually,’ she continued, watching Celestine’s reaction carefully. But there was no real reaction to speak of. Had she heard what Bella had said? ‘We’re getting a divorce,’ she added, feeling the need to clarify.

‘In my day people didn’t get divorced,’ Celestine said after a brief moment where she appeared to be considering Bella’s statement. ‘I always thought it was ridiculous. I couldn’t understand why anyone would stay married for the sake of appearances. In fact, I had one friend who’d been living apart from her husband for the last twenty years of his life and yet kept it a secret from almost everyone for fear of people gossiping. Imagine that! Both of them pretending to be happily married for all that time! When I asked her why, she couldn’t even tell me! I say life’s too short to be trapped in a loveless marriage. Good on you, if that’s what you need to do. Grab the bull by the horns and do what makes you happy.’

The tension in Bella’s shoulders dissipated. It had been silly to imagine for a moment that her aunt would be anything less than supportive. She might have to keep reminding herself that Celestine wasn’t like other ninety-three-year-olds – not that she knew any others.

The chunky old landline phone next to Celestine’s chair started to ring. She reached to pick it up and began a conversation, giving Bella time to consider a response. But then Bella was distracted for a moment as her great-aunt switched to fluent French. Only it didn’t quite sound like the French Bella was familiar with from her lessons at school. She reached into her memories and then recalled her dad talking about an old, lost language, something like French, which was only spoken on Jersey and by an increasingly small percentage of people. What was it called again? She remembered now that her dad had mentioned Celestine being able to speak it. He’d often talked about wanting to learn but not having the time. Bella was about to get out her phone and google it when Celestine ended the call and turned back to her.

‘Sorry about that. It was a friend of mine who has been calling every day since my fall and would have been dashing over here to check on me if I hadn’t answered.’

Bella smiled. ‘It’s great that you have such a good friend.’

‘We have a wonderful community here – I hope you’ll find that for yourself over the next six weeks.’

‘So, I was thinking,’ Bella began, putting her phone away. She could google to her heart’s content later, but now there were practical considerations to put her mind to. ‘About the stall. Should I aim to get it open tomorrow? Would you be able to write me a list of things I need to do?’

‘You’ve only just arrived! I couldn’t ask you to jump straight in and?—’

‘I want to. It’s why I came, after all, and it will do me good to keep busy – take my mind off things I’d rather not dwell on. I’m happy to jump straight in if you’re happy for me to do it. Of course, I am going to need some guidance to get me started.’

‘All in good time. First I think you must settle in here. I would show you to your room, but…’

‘You must rest! Don’t think for a minute that you have to play hostess for me – that’s not why I’m here at all. I can find my own way around. I have been here before, after all. Admittedly some years ago, but still…’

‘Yes, I know. In that case, I’ve given you the bedroom at the front of the house.’

‘Isn’t that your bedroom?’

‘Not for a while now. I decided to take the back one because it stays cooler in the summer and warmer in the winter. I only used the front one for so long because that was your uncle Roland’s favourite, but once he was gone, well…’ She gave a frail shrug. ‘It didn’t matter any longer.’

Bella had only the vaguest recollection of her great-uncle Roland. Even when they’d visited as a girl, he’d largely been absent. He travelled for work and was often sent to the mainland, and even when he was in Jersey, he was often out with golfing buddies or having drinks with some friend or other. It had never occurred to Bella back then that he and her great-aunt might not have had the happiest marriage, but the thought struck her now as she considered what she knew. The ‘friend’ her aunt had just mentioned who’d pretended to be happily married for years simply for the sake of appearances…had Celestine actually been talking about herself? If that were true, had Celestine only pretended to share the front bedroom with Roland whenever they had visitors? Had she retired to the other one when everyone had gone home?

‘Take your cases up whenever you like,’ Celestine said. ‘The bed is all made up if you need to take a rest…I suppose it was a long journey from Shrewsbury.’

‘It was a bit of a jaunt, but that’s all right. Taking a flight rather than the boat shaved quite a few hours off the journey time.’

‘I’m sure it must do. I remember the last time I went to the mainland…must be about twenty-five years ago. I went on the Seacat – I was so sick I vowed never to use it again.’

‘That’s lucky because I don’t think that service even runs now. At least I didn’t see a timetable for it online. If I had, I might have been tempted to take it just for the nostalgia. Either way, the flight suited me just fine. I don’t think I will sleep right now, though. I’ll take my stuff up and put it away, and then maybe we can go over what you need me to do at the stall.’

‘I wish I still had your energy.’

‘You’re off your feet and you should be recovering. Take advantage of me while I’m here and don’t worry about what you should and shouldn’t be doing.’

‘I ought to go down to the lock-up and talk you through everything there, but I can’t walk it at the moment.’

‘You don’t have any transport?’

‘Someone lent me a mobility scooter. I suppose I could go down on that. I haven’t actually tried it out yet.’ Celestine grimaced. ‘The truth is I hate the idea of having to use one, but I suppose needs must in this case.’

‘I’m sure it won’t be so bad. If you want to use that, we could go down together later.’

‘When you’ve had a cup of tea and a bite to eat.’

Bella got up and went to retrieve her cases. ‘I’m not going to argue with you on that score – I’m parched!’

From the bedroom that would be Bella’s for the next six weeks, she could see the ocean. There were trees and houses in the way, but in the gaps she could see the sparkling cauldron of St Rosa’s Bay, the place after which her aunt’s house had been named.

The room itself was dated, with faded floral wallpaper and curtains and fringed lamps, and ancient furniture comprising a solid teak bedframe and matching chest of drawers and wardrobe that looked as if they weighed more than the floor would hold. It was all reassuringly familiar. Celestine had used these items for years, and they would probably last someone else another lifetime after hers.

A thought floated through Bella’s mind. Who would Celestine leave all this to? She’d never had children – another thing Bella had in common with her great-aunt and another clue that, perhaps, her great-aunt’s marriage wasn’t as harmonious as she’d always pretended it to be – and so there was no automatic inheritance. Not that it was any of Bella’s business, of course, but the possibility that Villa Rosa would leave the family once Celestine died seemed a desperate shame to her.

Tearing herself away from the view and from more melancholy thoughts that she certainly didn’t need, Bella unpacked, taking advantage of the furniture that her aunt had probably gone to great pains to clear for her. She guessed as much because, through a crack in the door of the other bedroom, she noticed baskets piled with odds and ends that had probably once had a home in Celestine’s spare room. Bella hoped it hadn’t been too difficult for her, and if she’d known her great-aunt’s plans, she would have told her in no uncertain terms not to bother on her account; she’d have squeezed her stuff in somewhere.

Once she was done, she went back downstairs and found Celestine dozing in the chair. There was a crocheted blanket on the back of the sofa. Bella pulled it off and draped it over her, and then went to the kitchen to see if she could find the tea things for herself.

The kitchen was just as Bella remembered it. The old drying rack still hung from the ceiling. It was empty. Bella wondered if Celestine still used it or whether she’d just never got round to having it removed. The terracotta tiled floor was dotted with old rag rugs that Celestine had made herself, and the walls were painted a primrose yellow that glowed when the sun shone in. It was worn and dated but, like the rest of the house, that wasn’t a bad thing. It all felt safe and comfortable and homely, like it had no expectations of its guests. Bella liked that. She’d had the most beautiful home with Sean: all mod cons, the latest decor and plenty of space. But looking back, she’d never really felt at home there. It hadn’t been welcoming like this.

‘You should have woken me…Can you find everything?’

Bella turned to see Celestine at the doorway on her crutches.

‘I was hardly going to do that! I can find the tea things – go and sit down.’ Bella rested her hands on her hips and pretended to be cross. ‘Are you going to be one of those very difficult patients?’

‘I’m hoping not to be any kind of patient at all,’ Celestine said. ‘I’ve asked you to come to help with the flower stall; I don’t need looking after.’

‘You don’t, I know that. However, I am still going to tell you to go and sit down. I’ll bring you a cup of tea if you want one.’

Celestine looked as if she wanted to argue but then smiled. ‘That would be lovely. Be careful,’ she added as she hobbled back into the sitting room. ‘You don’t want to get spoiling me or I might not let you go home.’

‘I’m in no rush to go home anyway,’ Bella said as she watched her go. There’s nothing to go home to…