Chapter 11
L ife became everything Rosie had ever dreamed of over the next two weeks.
She developed a new work routine that seemed to suit her body and mind more than any job she’d had before, even though she was working longer hours.
She preferred to be up early and at the flower market before many of the vendors arrived and worked till the very last second, then she’d often join Emma for a drink after work.
Rosie’s relationship with Bas, the delivery guy, was becoming more and more friendly and he was teaching her odds words of Dutch while she taught him a few words of English.
She was beginning to feel settled into her new life quite nicely.
Every day she added different flowers to her stall and whilst it wasn’t as big as Finn’s, it was almost as colourful.
Her talks were proving popular too as people seemed to love learning about the different properties of herbs and flowers.
Word seemed to be spreading and every day different faces appeared in the crowd.
She’d had to expand her repertoire and was glad she’d brought her mum’s books with her.
Finn always watched with unveiled disgust as people gathered at her stall and she couldn’t help but feel slightly triumphant given how rude he’d been to her.
The more content Rosie felt, the more new ideas sprang into her head.
She’d begun to consider teaching some of the basics of flower arranging.
No one else in the market seemed to do that.
Maybe the vendors worried it would stop people buying premade arrangements, but Rosie loved to empower people with knowledge and wanted to encourage them to play with flowers and plants as she had as a child.
Her mum would often watch on and suggest other plants she could gather to make her displays.
It was where her love stemmed from and she wanted to share that with other people.
The next morning, as Rosie stepped off the Forget-Me-Knot ready for another day, she spied Max having breakfast on the deck of The Rembrandt .
Since the night they’d chatted she hadn’t seen much of him, unsure whether he was away on holiday or business, or simply hiding from her every time she came near.
Taking the hint, she’d forced herself not to bother him, no matter how much she was tempted, but today he glanced up and though he didn’t smile (she was learning he hardly ever smiled), he did at least make eye contact.
‘Morning,’ Rosie trilled happily. Max looked up from reading something on his phone. The deck was clear of canvases, and she took a tentative step towards him. ‘Have you sold your paintings?’
His brow furrowed, deep lines etching their way across his forehead. ‘No. I’ve put them away in case it rains.’
She looked up at the clear blue sky. The sun was already blazing and her weather app had said it was going to be another warm, sunny day. There wasn’t even a single lonely cloud to spoil the view.
‘It doesn’t look like rain,’ she replied. ‘Do you have a garage or something where you store them?’
He let his phone drop to his lap. ‘You are very nosy.’
‘I am,’ she replied, ignoring his snippy tone.
She secretly suspected Max wasn’t quite as miserable as he liked to make out, and thinking of the way he’d taken her hand still sent chills down her spine.
‘But if I didn’t ask you questions, I don’t think we’d speak at all.
And that’s not very neighbourly,’ she added, not wanting to sound like talking to him was something she actually liked doing.
Zoon appeared from the galley and ran towards her, leaping up and again resting his paws on her thighs so she could scratch his head. She leaned down to speak to him and his tongue popped out as he tried to lick her cheek.
‘Hello, you, are you being a good boy?’
‘Mostly. He tried to eat some ham I’d left out, so he’s been told off.’
‘Have you?’ she said to the dog. ‘Poor boy. I meant to ask, what does “Zoon” mean?’
‘It means son.’
‘Aww, that’s cute.’ Max rolled his eyes. Rosie shooed the dog back towards his owner and took a step backwards. ‘Right, well—’
‘How are things at the flower market?’ he asked, surprising her.
‘Good. I’m starting to build a decent customer base and people like my talks.’ She explained briefly what they were about, and did her best to tame the grin spreading over her face that he’d asked her a question in return.
‘You like teaching?’
She hadn’t thought of it in that way, but maybe that’s what it was. She had once worked as a teaching assistant at a primary school but being surrounded by small, noisy children had turned out not to be for her after all. Teaching adults, though, that she was enjoying. ‘I do.’
He mumbled something that sounded like, ‘Interesting,’ and she waited for him to say more. When he didn’t, she said goodbye and went on her way.
Why did he find that interesting? She pondered it all the way to the flower market, enjoying once more the feel of the vibrant city around her.
She walked down one particular street that was fast becoming a favourite.
Instead of the merchant houses, tall and narrow, and a mass of windows, the houses and shops had three floors ending in a single windowed room at the top.
The roof either side curved away, with white decorative gable tops.
Perhaps one day she’d be buying a house like that and she’d look out of t hat top window at the people passing by.
But then, she’d miss being on the canal.
She liked waking up to the gentle swaying of the boat.
She loved sitting out on the deck in the evenings.
Her next purchase was going to be a comfortable chair so she could sit and read as the sun set.
Though there was still some maintenance to do first. The deck needed a good varnish, as did the floor of the galley, especially after the leak.
She hadn’t got round to doing that yet, and knew she should soon.
When she arrived at the flower market, Emma greeted her with a worried expression, her downcast eyes a contrast to the bright green skirt and yellow vest top she was wearing.
‘What is it?’ Rosie asked, genuinely concerned to see her normally happy-go-lucky friend so worried.
‘I think Noah has a girlfriend.’
‘What? Why?’
‘He’s brought some girl to the flower market with him this morning and he had his arm around her shoulders.
Then she hugged him and went off. I think they spent the night together.
’ She slumped on the small stoll Rosie used when there weren’t any customers around.
‘I’ve left it too late and now he’s found someone else. ’
Rosie hated to admit it, but it did sound like her friend might have, but that didn’t chime with the Noah she’d seen a week or so before, who’d definitely been interested in Emma.
Life was strange sometimes though and it was quite possible someone new had crossed his path.
She’d need to scope them out for herself to be sure though.
There was no point in upsetting her friend by agreeing when it could still be nothing. ‘Did either of them say anything?’
‘I didn’t hear what they were saying when they arrived.
They had their heads together speaking quietly and then when she hugged him to say goodbye, she said, “See you tonight.” Urgh.
’ Emma leaned forwards and rubbed her hands over her face.
‘I always leave it too long, afraid to do anything, waiting for men to make the first move, and now I’ve missed my chance with the nicest man I’ve met in years. ’
‘Listen . . .’ Rosie placed her hands on Emma’s shoulders, and she lifted her head. ‘How about a little light espionage after work?’
Her eyes widened. ‘You want to follow them?’
‘Yeah, but not in a creepy, stalkerish way, just in a let’s-see-where-they-go-and-what-they-do kind of way. We can check it out after work.’
‘Isn’t that... a bit... the literal definition of stalking?’
‘I like to think of it more as proactive. Don’t you want to know what the situation is?’ Emma nodded. ‘Then I’ll meet you at five-thirty and we’ll just happen to leave at the same time he does, so make sure you’re cashed up and ready to go.’
‘I will. I—’ Suddenly, Emma’s arms were wrapped around Rosie. ‘Thank you.’
Rosie returned the squeeze, wondering if Emma had been in a similar situation to her when it came to friends. She’d have to ask. ‘Now go. I have work to do and so do you.’
Rosie wrote up the poster for her talks.
She’d have to get some professionally printed but there wasn’t much point until she was sure of her business name.
At the moment, Rosie’s Blooms seemed to be the best bet.
She’d also been considering Rosie’s Floating Flower Shop, though that seemed too strong a name for her little pitch, and she didn’t want to tempt fate by getting ahead of herself.
Fenna had kindly said she could place a poster near her shop and Rosie swiftly took one round.
‘Rosie, wasn’t it?’ Finn said, stepping out in front of her, stopping her in her tracks.
He was dressed in another suit, making her feel untidy and slobbish in her jeans and vest top.
His tan was even deeper and the contrast around his eyes even stronger.
The thought that he’d been at the sunbeds again almost made her laugh.
He was the same colour her deck should be– would be, once she’d varnished it.
‘That’s right. How are you, Finn?’
‘I’m very good.’ The deep lines on his forehead intensified as he glanced at the poster. ‘So, these are the famous talks I’ve been hearing so much about.’ He pointed to her hastily made sign.
‘That’s right.’
‘Can I see?’
Reluctantly, she handed it over, feeling the need to defend herself as his lip curled. ‘I know it’s not very professional at the moment, but I’ll get some printed soon. I’m just so thrilled people are coming and talking about them.’