Chapter Sixteen
The bell above the door of The Wee Bookshop tinkled as Flora carried the first box of books in. The woman behind the counter looked up and grinned.
‘Hello, Aisling, I’ve got some books for you.’ Flora forced a bright smile, even though the disappointment of the interview rejection still clung to her. ‘Gran and I were doing a bit of a clear out and she said you’ve got a second-hand section.’
‘Oh, marvellous. I’m running low so this is perfect timing.’ Her voice was kind and thankful as her eyes glanced across the titles of the books visible in their open box.
‘They belonged to my grandpa,’ explained Flora.
Aisling nodded and smiled. ‘Well, I am very grateful to you for handing these in. Don’t worry, I will take very good care of them. And every penny sold from our second-hand book section goes to charity. This year I’m donating to the Beatson Cancer Charity.’
‘That’s great to know. I’ve got more in the car.’ Flora looked over her shoulder back towards the street.
‘That is so kind. And amazing that you’re helping out your gran like this.’
Flora put the box down and brushed the back of her hand against her brow. ‘It’s just nice to give her a hand.’
‘Of course. She is such a lovely lady. Come on, let me help you with the other boxes.’ Aisling smiled again and with her help they soon emptied the car of all the books. ‘Thanks again. This really does mean a lot and I am so grateful you’re donating them here.’
‘You’re welcome.’ Flora smiled as the knot in her chest loosened. She was just glad her grandpa’s books were now in good hands and the proceeds would go to a worthy cause.
‘Do pop back soon, won’t you? The kettle is always on.’
As Flora waved and walked back to her car, she heard her phone buzz with a message.
It was a text from Jessica, inviting her to a girls’ night that evening at her cottage.
The encounter with Aisling at the bookshop and then this?
The heaviness from earlier started to lift.
Perhaps things weren’t quite so bad after all.
* * *
Later that night, Flora walked up Rowan Lane looking for the correct house.
She didn’t even know this little street existed until today.
It was easily missed unless you knew what you were looking for.
It was flanked by the greenery of the trees and was a private spot with only five cottages in the row that were all very different.
Then she spotted the sage-coloured door with a slate sign, its white etching reading: Primrose Cottage.
She admired the planters with yellow primroses and lavender which she bent down to smell just as the door flew open.
‘Flora, you made it. In you come,’ said Jessica enthusiastically. ‘The others are in the garden.’
Flora stood up and smiled shyly at Jessica as she followed her though to the kitchen and handed her a bottle of Prosecco and a box of home-made brownies.
Then she immediately felt mortified. What was she thinking?
Jessica was a baker. ‘Oh gawd. I made you some brownies and have just realised how stupid that was.’ Her cheeks flamed with embarrassment.
Brownies were the only thing she could bake and she thought they would be a nice gift.
Jessica chuckled. ‘Flora, are you kidding me? Thank you so much. I never eat my own baking. And nobody ever brings me cakes in case I criticise them. Which I wouldn’t, of course,’ she added quickly. ‘This is so kind. I will love scoffing them. And I might even give Reuben one too, if he’s lucky.’
Flora immediately warmed to Jessica. Not only had she put her at ease, but there was something about her gentle voice and kind eyes that made her feel comfortable.
‘Come on into the garden.’
Flora followed her outside to where Gillian and another woman who looked vaguely familiar were sitting on the patio. There was a bottle of Prosecco in a wine cooler on the table before them, along with some glasses and small dishes of nuts and olives and a platter with cheese and crackers.
‘Hi, Flora.’ Gillian jumped up and gave her a hug. ‘Great you could make it.’ She turned and pointed across the table at the other woman. ‘This is Lily, who works at Rowan Bay Inn.’
Lily smiled warmly at Flora. ‘Hi, Flora. It’s good to meet you. Though have we met before? You look kind of familiar.’
‘I was thinking the same.’ She narrowed her brows, wondering where they might have met. Then it dawned on her. ‘I think it must have been at the inn when I was here at Christmastime.’
Lily pondered for a moment. ‘I think you’re right. You came to the Hogmanay party with your gran, didn’t you?’
Flora laughed. ‘That’s right. I had to drag her away at the end. She was in her element with the ceilidh dancing, especially the Gay Gordons. She would have stayed for a lock in, I think, given half the chance.’
Gillian giggled. ‘I had to leave early that night with Millie but that does sound very like Iris. She is quite the character. Come on, have a seat.’
Jessica popped the cork off the bottle and it flew into the trees at the bottom of the garden.
‘Whoopsie. That wasn’t meant to happen.’ Then she poured the fizz into glasses.
‘Well, cheers,’ she said, clinking her glass against the others as the women raised them.
‘Happy Friday. And welcome, Flora. I’m so glad you could come. ’
‘Thank you for inviting me. This is such a beautiful garden.’ She gazed around the pretty space. ‘And such a lovely cottage.’
‘It’s all down to Reuben and Brodie.’ A proud smile flickered across Jessica’s face. ‘They restored it all. It used to belong to Reuben’s dad.’
Iris had previously told Flora that Jessica lived with her boyfriend, Reuben, in the cottage which was just a few doors down from Jessica’s parents.
Although Flora had been a bit nervous about coming along, she’d hoped it would be fun to meet up with others her own age.
It wasn’t that she didn’t love her gran’s company — she did — but she did miss Nita and her friends in Edinburgh.
As she looked around, she realised how easy the conversation was — as though they had all known each other for ages — and Flora felt a surprising sense of connection with them.
Gillian was excited to tell them all about the move into her new flat at the start of the week with her daughter, Millie, and Flora’s ears perked up when she heard Brodie’s name being mentioned again. ‘I can’t quite believe I have my own space after all this time.’
‘You deserve it, Gillian,’ insisted Jessica. ‘It’s been a long time coming.’
Gillian grinned. ‘You’re an angel. And so is Brodie. I mean what he’s done to the flat is just incredible.’
‘He’s a man of many talents then?’ Flora was intrigued.
She was now feeling increasingly bad that she’d assumed he was out to fleece her gran.
And she knew she’d been distracted earlier, and perhaps came across as rude, when he helped her carry the boxes out to her car.
Her mind had still been on the email rejection.
‘He certainly is,’ agreed Lily. ‘He’s such a gem but very hard to pin down. We’ve just had a new tree house built in the grounds for the glamping market. I wanted Brodie to do it but he was completely booked up this summer — but he did find someone else for us.’
Flora was starting to think she owed him an apology for being a bit tetchy and thinking he was trying to rip off her gran.
‘Is the tree house almost finished?’ asked Jessica excitedly. ‘I can’t wait to see it. I’m totally intrigued to know what it will be like.’
‘It should be finished by next week.’ Lily crossed her fingers dramatically. ‘At least it had better be as the first paying guests arrive next weekend. Eek. Anyway, I promise to give you a tour as soon as it’s done.’
‘Oh definitely. I’m dying for a wee swatch,’ said Gillian. ‘Feels like it’s been in the making for ages. And folk do love a bit of camping as long as it’s posh.’
‘Well, there have been loads of enquiries and bookings. The owners of the inn are always looking at different ways of bringing in money and they were completely up for it when I made the suggestion.’
Flora enjoyed listening to the women talk about their different jobs — at the inn and the bakery — and realised a bit sadly that it wasn’t something she could relate to any more. She wasn’t quite sure where she now belonged in a work sense.
‘How about you, Flora?’ asked Jessica. ‘Your gran said you’re helping her with some stuff at the boathouse?’
Flora curled her fingers around the champagne flute. ‘Yes . . . I lost my job in Edinburgh a few weeks ago. I was a lecturer and there was a massive round of redundancies.’
‘I’m so sorry to hear that,’ said Jessica. ‘Iris did mention you’d had a bit of a tough time.’
Gillian smiled kindly at Flora. ‘That’s what happened to me and it was horrible. It was losing my job as well as getting dumped that brought me home to my mum’s. Not that I’m complaining now as things have worked out. But at the time it wasn’t easy.’
Flora nodded. ‘It was a bit of a blow. I’m just trying to figure out what comes next . . . I’ve managed to rent my flat out for the summer and thought it would be a good opportunity to spend time with my gran and help her with some redecorating.’
‘Well, if you’re as talented as your gran says then I’m sure someone will snap you up again soon,’ said Gillian.
Lily tilted her head and looked at her for a moment. ‘Can you make things? Like dresses and stuff . . . and do alterations?’
‘Oh, yes, I love doing that kind of thing when I get the chance. I learned a lot from my gran when I was younger. She was always making her own clothes.’
Flora had also taken a kilt-making course in Edinburgh a couple of years ago, intrigued by the craft, especially given the family’s history, and had been meaning to refresh her skills again.
But writing funding applications, planning lessons and doing the actual teaching and lecturing had been consuming. Especially this past year.
‘Have you thought about setting up your own business?’ asked Jessica.
She shook her head. ‘Nope. I’m definitely not brave enough to do that. I wouldn’t even know where to begin.’
‘But you would get loads of business here, especially since your gran stopped doing it,’ declared Gillian firmly. ‘Particularly when they realise the family link.’
Iris had always had a side hustle doing alterations in the village, even when teaching full-time, but her arthritic fingers had meant she didn’t have the dexterity to do some of the intricate work that dressmaking and alterations required and she’d reluctantly had to give it up a few years ago.
Flora remembered how disappointed she was at the time, though she did still manage to do bits and pieces for pleasure.
She now felt the eyes of the three women on her.
As she looked at them, her mind whirred with possibilities.
Was that something she could do while she was here?
Jessica’s eyes sparkled. ‘Have you got a sewing machine?’
Flora nodded.
She clapped her hands together. ‘Brilliant. I have some jeans that need altering. They’ve been lying in my drawer for months and if you can sort them so I can actually wear them then I will love you forever.
And my mum needs new curtains and blinds made for her cottage.
She has been talking about it for yonks. ’
‘Me too, for my flat,’ added Gillian. ‘I need curtains for Millie’s room as the blind we’ve got is too flimsy.’
‘And we would, of course, all pay for your services,’ said Jessica, taking a sip from her glass.
Lily grinned and then her smile froze. ‘Oh no! Curtains. Curtains! The tree house doesn’t have any curtains! Oh my God. Can you make me some? Like ASAP?’ Lily sounded like she was panicking. ‘Seriously, crap. Can you help?’
Lily looked so distraught that Flora reached across to squeeze her hand and reassure her. ‘Sure, I can run up some curtains for you. I’m sure Gran has a pile — or two — of fabric and cuttings. Please don’t worry about it. I’ll come over tomorrow and measure up.’
‘Phew.’ Lily looked so relieved. ‘Thank you so much.’
‘I never thought I would end up here and running the bakery,’ Jessica admitted. ‘But somehow it happened at the right time and I have kind of made it up as I’ve gone along. But I don’t regret it for a minute.’
Gillian nodded. ‘I do think we are all winging it in life.’
As Flora looked around the table at the women who had shared their own stories and listened and nodded encouragingly at hers, she felt something shift.
Perhaps it was their confidence in her and that they saw something in her that she didn’t.
She reminded herself that she was more than capable.
Which was why she needed to grasp their belief in her and believe in herself.
Maybe she could do this. Maybe she could wing it, too, and see what happened.
Even if it was temporary until another permanent job came along.