Chapter 15 #2
‘Nothing to do with you,’ Finn replied, lifting his chin as though his whole assault on her was justified. Max took another step towards him, opening his mouth to speak, but Rosie had never needed a man to speak for her and wasn’t about to start now.
‘It’s all right, Max,’ she replied, doing her best to control the quivering in her voice. ‘I can handle this.’
He glanced at her, and then nodded before stepping back, trusting her, but remaining near enough that he could intercede if she needed him to.
Finn, his complexion turning ruddy, planted his feet and crossed his arms over his chest. It seemed to be his favourite pose. ‘ You are trying to steal my business.’
The heat that had been rising in her spine now spread through her whole body.
She could feel anger and frustration rising but having dealt with rude customers before, she knew just what to do.
She kept her voice calm, her tone soft. ‘I just need to get rid of these flowers before they’re past their best or they won’t be worth a customer buying them.
You do the same sometimes– I’ve seen you.
’ His eyes widened at her response. He obviously hadn’t thought she’d answer him back.
Well, he might intimidate other people here, but she wasn’t going to be one of them.
From the corner of her eye, she saw Max smile.
‘That is not— You can’t—’
Zoon growled, edging closer to Rosie’s feet, protecting her.
‘And you’ve brought a disgusting dog into the market.’
‘It’s my disgusting dog, actually,’ said Max, reminding Finn he was there.
The older man’s gaze sprung once more onto Rosie. ‘Who do you think you are?!’
‘Who do you think you are?’ she echoed back to him, her voice rising.
Shouting at her over a perceived slight was one thing, but insulting Zoon, who was the sweetest, most well-behaved dog she’d ever known, was another.
‘And I’ll tell you another thing,’ she continued, resisting the urge to point her finger at him.
She’d stood up to her bullying bosses before (not always a good idea, she had to admit, but she wasn’t going to stop now).
‘I’m just starting out and everyone here has been so helpful and supportive except you.
I have no idea what your problem is, but I suggest you get over it sooner rather than later.
I’m entitled to reduce the price of my flowers if I want to.
I’ve got a business to run. And unlike you, this is my only spot.
I don’t have extra shops, so I’m allowed to do what I need to do to make a living. ’
‘How dare you—’
‘How dare you! You’ve marched up to me and instead of talking to me about your concerns, you’ve had a go at me in front of everyone. Not very grown up, is it? Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got work to do.’
And with that she turned away and continued sorting her flowers from the morning delivery.
Finn stood for a second in the silence that had fallen.
Behind her, it was like someone had pressed pause on the world, the only noise the rain pummelling the awnings and the water of the canal.
People stood still, muttering to each other; the stallholders, too, had stopped what they were doing.
She was vaguely aware of Finn working his jaw as though preparing for a second round, then he thought better of it and marched off back to his own pitch.
The Bloemenmarkt filled with noise again and a second later Max was at her side. ‘Are you all right?’ The weight of his hand on her shoulder was reassuring, calming her racing heart.
‘I’m fine. I won’t be bullied like that.’
‘You were...’ She looked at him, willing him to finish the sentence. The smile he gave sent her heart beating against her ribs, and it had only just calmed down. ‘Marvellous.’
She opened her mouth to speak but couldn’t get the words out.
Max went back to the seat he’d made for himself from an upturned bucket and continued sketching.
In a daze, she returned to work, catching the smiles and thumbs-up gestures from the other vendors.
A wonderful s ense of belonging calmed her; she just wished she hadn’t had to have an argument with Finn to feel it.
The rain continued unceasingly. Customers were few and far between, so Rosie and Max took a break, drinking a coffee from one of the other vendors.
Max had refused to show her his sketches, but she’d loved seeing him at work.
There was a light in his eyes as he turned the paper this way and that, his arm moving swiftly.
Every part of him was absorbed in his work – a sign of true passion, she believed.
She just hoped this would lead on to more– that the feeling would snowball and soon he’d be painting again, teaching and making the most of his talent.
As they sat, chatting about the different flowers and if this storm would ever end, Rosie’s attention was drawn to Finn’s stall.
He was nowhere to be seen, but the awning seemed to be sagging with the weight of water sitting on it. In fact, it wasn’t just sagging, it was positively bowing.
‘What is it?’ asked Max. ‘You’re scowling.’
Rosie pointed to Finn’s stall. ‘Is it just me, or does that look like an accident waiting to happen?’
‘It doesn’t look good, does it? But it’ll serve him right for treating you the way he did this morning.’
‘But if that falls, the water’s got to go somewhere. It’ll drown all his flowers.’
‘I thought flowers liked water.’
‘They do, but not that much and look—’ She picked up a flower that had been caught in the rain during the delivery t hat morning.
She gently lifted a petal, showing him where the delicate flower had torn from the force of the raindrops.
‘This is water damage. And even if some survive now, the amount of water could make them die quicker.’
‘I doubt he’d care about that. He’d probably still sell them and take his customers for a ride.’
‘I hope not.’ Rosie sipped her coffee as the raindrops beat a rhythm on the ceiling. She couldn’t stop glancing at Finn’s stall. ‘I’m going to have to say something.’
Max looked up. ‘To Finn?’ His tone was incredulous. ‘Why would you bother?’
Rosie stood up. ‘Because he might not be a nice person, but I am. It’s what my mum would do. Here, can you hold this?’ She handed him her cup and walked over.
Finn saw her coming and met her just outside his stall. He really did have beautiful flowers, and so, so many. Though a pang of jealousy hit her, Rosie reminded herself she could get to this stage one day if she kept going.
‘What do you want?’ Finn asked.
She almost turned and walked away at that moment, leaving him to his fate.
But she couldn’t do it. If it was the other way around, she’d want someone– even her worst enemy– to tell her.
She’d take the moral high ground. After all, they were going to be working together till at least the end of the summer.
And the end of the summer was looking more and more likely with her small flower stall barely breaking even and repairs needed on the boat.
She shoved that thought to the back of her mind.
‘It’s your awning,’ Rosie began. ‘Have you seen the amount of water on it? I was worried that—’
‘My flower stall is none of your business.’
Her anger flared. ‘You know—’
But she couldn’t get another word out as a deafening crack of thunder smothered all sound.
Several flashes of lightning followed in quick succession and the rain grew even heavier.
It was as though some being above the clouds had turned on a tap or hosepipe and was spraying it down on the flower market.
The loudest rumble of thunder echoed around them, and water began to rush in from the sides of the awning as it started to collapse.
‘Quick!’ Rosie shouted, gathering Finn’s plants and moving them out of the way as the awning crumpled in the middle under the weight of water.
A waterfall rushed forward, splashing over some of his plants and knocking others on their sides.
The stall keepers opposite tried protecting their own goods.
Finn was pinned to the spot, but Rosie couldn’t move quick enough.
Max rushed to help, moving Finn’s stock before it was washed away on a tide of rain and stagnant water.
A moment later, the left side of the awning completely collapsed, taking a few tubs of flowers they’d been unable to clear with it.
Just as her boat had been not long ago, his shop flooded, water seeping into her trainers, soaking her feet.
The water reached into the neighbouring pitches and Finn turned to them, his face ashen.
Rosie surveyed the scene, her eyes falling on the devastation the water had brought for Finn and the others closest to him.
As she brought her eyes up to his face, expecting to see him angry and ready to blame someone else, her heart lurched, and she felt sorry for him.
‘I– I—’ He looked like he might cry. All the pomposity leached from his face, making him look like a frightened, vulnerable man. ‘I’m so sorry,’ he said, turning around to face every one of the vendors who had been affected. ‘I’m so very sorry.’
They stared at him in silence, some of them concerned, others scowling with anger. She felt a lump of emotion in her throat as her heart went out to him. For a moment, no one moved, but Rosie knew they couldn’t just stand here. They needed to act.
‘Has anyone got mops and buckets?’ she asked loudly, jolting them all into action.
‘I do,’ Emma replied, running to Rosie’s side, joining her in the battle to help.
‘Me too,’ said Noah, jogging back to his shop to fetch them.