Twenty-five Sweet Pea – Delicate Pleasures
Twenty-five
Sweet Pea – Delicate Pleasures
The next morning I wake up in my bed at the cottage and see the wonky ceiling above me.
Nothing odd in that, I do it most mornings as soon as the sun starts creeping through the thin curtains to wake me. What is odd, I realise, suddenly remembering last night, is the extra person lying naked next to me in the bed.
I turn my head carefully so as not to disturb him, and see Ash sleeping peacefully, his face turned towards me on the pillow.
Oh God … I hadn’t.
But I had.
Last night after he’d kissed me outside the pub, Ash and I had gone a bit mad. We’d run along the harbour, then up over the other side of the hill that St Felix is perched on, to the beach, where we’d taken off our shoes and run laughing and kissing along the length of the sand, until Ash had taken me in his arms and kissed me so hard and fast that we almost did it right there on the sand.
But I still had a little bit of sense about me, and managed to peel him off my body long enough to suggest we might have a more comfortable time if we headed back to the cottage.
When we’d got back we’d crept in quietly in case Amber was still awake. She’d told me before I went out that she was going to take a bath, do some meditation, and have an early night.
So Ash and I had sneaked straight into my room, trying to be as quiet as we could. It did cross my mind I was being a bit reckless – after all, I hardly knew Ash, and he was a fair bit younger than me. I may have done many things in my life that were irresponsible, but sex wasn’t usually something I messed about with.
But this felt right. I needed to let off some steam, and Ash, apart from being very attractive, had been the catalyst to make me want to do so.
And best of all, I didn’t think about Jake once.
It had been quite some time since I’d woken up with someone in my bed next to me, and it felt as awkward today as it had always done.
I wonder how sound a sleeper Ash is. I move, and he doesn’t stir. So I pull back the sheets and sit up. He shuffles a bit, but his eyes don’t open. So I lift myself slowly off the bed and grab my PJs from the chair. I wish I had a dressing gown I could sexily slip into, but I hadn’t expected to be staying this long in St Felix when I’d originally packed, so it isn’t something I have the luxury of this morning. I take one last look at him still sleeping, and then I slip out of the door.
‘Well, well, well!’ Amber says, eyeing me from her place at the sink as I enter the kitchen. ‘Look who snuck out of the love nest early!’
‘What do you mean?’ I ask, wandering over to the fridge to get juice.
‘Come on, Poppy, I may be a bit ditsy sometimes, but I’m not deaf. I heard you sneaking lover boy into the cottage last night.’
‘Ah… that.’
‘Yes that,’ she says, as she dries her hands on a towel. ‘Well?’ she whispers. ‘What’s he like?’
I’m surprised Amber isn’t more shocked that I slept with Ash on what I wasn’t even admitting to her was a first date.
‘He’s very nice,’ I reply coyly.
‘Nice as a person, or nice ,’ she grimaces, ‘in bed. Because the two are very different things…’
‘ Amber … ’ I flash my eyes at her. ‘He’s a nice person to be with, and…’ I flush. ‘Pretty good in the other department too.’
‘Ooh, jackpot!’ she says, pulling an imaginary handle.
‘Somebody won something?’
We both turn and see Ash walking through the kitchen door. His hair is dishevelled and he’s pulled on his jeans, but his feet and his very well developed chest are bare.
‘I think Poppy has,’ Amber says, raising her eyebrows at me.
‘Tea, Ash? Or coffee?’ I offer.
‘Coffee would be great,’ he says. ‘Do you mind if I jump in the shower?’
I see Amber swallow hard.
‘No, go right ahead,’ I tell him. ‘You’ll find fresh towels on the side.’
‘Thanks. See you in a bit.’
‘Wow,’ Amber says as soon as he’s gone. ‘You are one lucky lady, Miss Poppy.’
‘He is pretty fit, isn’t he?’ I can’t help but smile.
‘Er… ya!’
‘I’m surprised you aren’t more shocked that I brought him back here last night.’
‘Nah.’ Amber waves her hand. ‘I knew you would.’
‘How? When I was insisting to you it wasn’t even a date.’
Amber taps the side of her head. ‘Never doubt the powers of Amber,’ she says. ‘I know many, many things before they happen.’
‘OK…’ I wave my hand, not wanting to know more. I had no need to know if she’d read her cards, or her crystals or whatever else she could find. ‘But I bet you can’t predict what I’m going to do next?’
‘Make Ash breakfast?’
‘Haha! See, that’s where you’re wrong.’ I walk back towards the door Ash has just gone through. ‘Even you couldn’t predict this one, Amber. I am going to join him in the shower…’
‘Poppy, you minx!’ I hear Amber call after me as I reach for the bathroom door.
Later that day Amber and I are back in the shop waiting for a young couple, Katie and Jonathan, to arrive for their appointment with us. In a few weeks’ time Daisy Chain will be providing the flowers for their wedding in a large country hotel about half an hour away from St Felix.
It’s the first wedding we’ve been asked to do, and Amber is understandably nervous at the prospect.
‘But I’ve never done a wedding on my own,’ she said when we’d first been approached. ‘Your mom always did all the organising, I just helped out.’
‘You’ll be fine, Amber,’ I’d assured her. ‘You’re a brilliant florist. The bride wouldn’t have specially asked for you if you weren’t.’
‘The bride asked for Daisy Chain to do the flowers, not me,’ she’d said, still looking worried. ‘It was your grandmother’s reputation that sealed the deal.’
Eventually I’d managed to persuade her this was something she could do – and do well – and we’d had a preliminary meeting with the bride to discuss her requirements.
This afternoon Katie’s back with her groom, Jonathan, to discuss the designs Amber has come up with for the wedding, and to confirm how many flowers will be required – plus the all-important cost.
‘So,’ Amber says as we wait for them to arrive, and she puts the finishing touches to a birthday arrangement for a grandmother of pale pink roses, meaning grace, and white lilies, meaning majesty. ‘What’s happening with you and lover boy?’
I roll my eyes as I watch her. Since Marie’s visit, Amber has been quite open about her use of the flower books for guidance in her arrangements, and she will happily inform me which flowers she’s using and why. The science of it – I preferred to call it that rather than magic – was fascinating, but I still preferred to let Amber deal with the actual arranging of the flowers. I wasn’t ready to be that hands-on just yet, even though I had to admit I was finding being in the shop much easier these days.
‘I assume you mean Ash?’ I reply, pretending to be aghast. ‘We’ve only been on one date!’
‘But what a long , and if I might say, very noisy date that was.’ Amber winks as she places her final stem into the green oasis holding her arrangement in place.
I blush. ‘He says he’ll call me, if you must know.’
‘Ooh, like “I can’t wait to see you again” call you? Or “I’ll see ya around” call you?’
‘I guess the first. But —’ I cut Amber off before she can say anything. ‘It’s not anything serious. Ash isn’t that kind of guy, and I’m not interested in anything too heavy right now.’
Amber shrugs. ‘OK, if you say so.’ But as she swivels the arrangement round on the desk to check it, she murmurs, ‘Not with Ash, anyway.’
‘What did you say?’
‘Nothing!’ she sings. ‘Oh look, here’s our bride and groom, I’ll just take this out back.’
Katie and Jonathan appear in the doorway of the shop, and I go over to greet them.
‘Hello,’ I say, shaking Katie’s hand. ‘And you must be the happy groom,’ I say to a not-too-happy-looking Jonathan, who shakes my hand dismally. ‘Is everything all right?’ I ask as they sit down on the chairs we’ve placed in a corner of the shop for our meeting. ‘You seem worried.’
Katie looks at Jonathan as if she’s going to burst into tears.
‘The wedding is going to have to be cancelled!’ she says, fighting back tears as Amber appears from the back room and hurries to join us. ‘Our perfect day is off.’
‘No, it’s not, darling.’ Jonathan puts his arm around Katie and tries to console her. ‘Not yet anyway,’ he says to us.
‘But why?’ I ask. ‘What’s happened?’
‘The hotel has had a mix-up with our booking,’ Jonathan explains, while Katie sniffs on his shoulder. ‘They say they can’t hold our wedding on that day because they already have another wedding booked. The other couple take priority because they paid their deposit first.’
‘They can’t just cancel you altogether,’ I insist. ‘Surely they can offer you another date instead?’
Katie shakes her head sadly. ‘Not anything that works for us. It’s either midweek or much later in the year – they’re fully booked. That’s why we wanted to hold our perfect day there, because they have such a great reputation. Plus their grounds are absolutely stunning, it would have been perfect for our photos.’
‘It happens,’ Amber says. ‘When I was at the florist’s in New York, we had a couple who got double-booked at the Plaza! Can you imagine a hotel like that double-booking you? It worked out well for them in the end though – they got married in Central Park, it was very romantic, so I hear. Much nicer than the Plaza would have been.’
‘Maybe you could find somewhere else?’ I suggest. We can’t afford to lose this booking, it’s too important, both financially and for Amber’s confidence.
Jonathan shakes his head. ‘Nope, everywhere local is fully booked throughout the summer. We may have to put it off until next year…’
Katie lets out another huge sob, and scrabbles in her bag for a tissue.
Amber produces a beautiful white lace handkerchief and passes it to her instead.
‘Thank you,’ Katie sniffs. ‘You’re both so lovely, that’s why we wanted you to do our wedding. It would have been so special to have had Daisy Chain providing the flowers. My mother was a huge fan of your grandmother’s way with flowers; she never stopped raving about her before she died. Your grandmother did the flowers for her funeral.’
I nod. I’m thinking. Something Amber said has given me an idea.
‘How would you feel about having a different sort of wedding?’ I ask tentatively, my brain still trying to keep up with all the ideas that are suddenly flooding in. ‘Like Amber’s New York couple?’
‘How do you mean?’ Jonathan asks, looking dubious.
‘I have an idea… I can’t promise anything, but if it works out it would guarantee you something much more memorable than a dull old country hotel. And,’ I add when I see I’ve got them interested, ‘your photos would be absolutely stunning.’