Chapter 25
FLORENCE
I wish Dad were here to see upstairs take shape. Clark has got the first coat of paint on the walls, and I’ve just cleaned the windows. The late afternoon sun is now streaming through, and I can already visualise customers relaxing up here and finishing their coffee.
The walls need more coats, and the woodwork needs sorting, but it already feels different. Clark assures me it will be our work in progress, and any spare time we get, we will be up here, improving it.
He’s tidying up, and I’m going downstairs to close the café. Then we will walk back to the cul-de-sac together, which is something we have never done before.
After popping downstairs, I catch sight of Mum at the door.
‘Hello,’ I say, welcoming her inside. ‘You should see what Clark and I have done.’
She looks intrigued. ‘Did I hear you correctly? You and Clark?’
I nod as we cross the café and come to the bottom of the stairs. ‘We’re trying to work as a team and not argue.’
Mum looks confused. ‘You’re working as a team? Really?’
She follows me upstairs and gasps when we reach the top. ‘Oh – wow!’
‘Hello, Yvonne,’ calls out Clark from the other side of the room.
Mum is surveying the newly painted walls and the clean windows. ‘This is amazing. I can’t believe my eyes. Your dad would be so impressed.’
As she compliments Clark on his decorating skills, I notice something different about her.
She isn’t wearing any makeup, which isn’t a bad thing, and I’m glad she’s embracing a new, natural look.
I also notice that the gold hoop earrings she’s worn since the nineties have disappeared.
This subtle change is a little worrying as this is not like Mum.
‘Are you okay?’ I ask as she peers out of one of the windows at the street below.
‘I’m just feeling a bit tired,’ she mumbles. ‘Nothing for you to worry about.’
When Mum says that I always do the opposite and worry about her.
She checks her watch. ‘I’d better go and catch my bus.’ Lifting her gaze to mine, she says, ‘Your father will be looking down from heaven and he will be overjoyed at what you have done.’
‘Give me a hug before you go, Mum.’
She casts me an odd look after I release her. ‘You know, all the gardening you did has changed you, Florence. Bye, Clark, nice to see you.’
He waves. ‘You too, Yvonne.’
I smile and walk her back down the stairs. ‘Take care going to the bus, won’t you?’
Clark and I are walking back from the café. ‘It looks good, doesn’t it?’ he says with a smile.
Mum’s appearance is still on my mind. I nod. ‘You’ve done a great job. Listen – did you notice anything different about Mum earlier?’
‘She looked the same to me. Why?’
‘She wasn’t wearing any makeup or her earrings.’
He looks down at his paint-splattered arms before looking up again. ‘Maybe she fancies a change?’
While he tells me about what skirting board he needs to replace, I think about Mum. Something is going on with her and I need to find out what.
Pearl is standing outside her house as we enter the cul-de-sac. Once she spots us, she rushes over.
‘Hello, Pearl,’ says Clark.
‘Oh, I am in a fluster.’ I can see her face looks shadowy and strained. Her twinkly blue eyes have also lost their usual sparkle.
‘What’s up?’ Clark asks, putting his arm over her shoulders.
‘Rodney has been on my mind all day. I don’t know what to do about him. It’s so upsetting to hear he’s not the man I once knew all those years ago.’
I need to put her mind at ease. ‘Clark and I are going to Pixie Cove tomorrow,’ I say. ‘We will speak to him.’
She stares at me. ‘Really?’
I nod. ‘We’ll see what we can find out.’
Her face softens. ‘Thank you. Another thing on my mind is Mary’s book.’ She looks to me. ‘Did you know my dear friend, Mary, self-published a novel?’
I smile. ‘Clark has told me, Pearl, and what an achievement that was for Mary. Writing a book is not easy.’
Pearl nods. ‘I haven’t even read it, so I can’t tell you what it’s about. Mary was always very guarded about her past life, and even though she was my friend, I always got the sense she was hiding something.’ She looks up at Clark. ‘You’ve read it – haven’t you?’
He makes a pained expression. ‘Still halfway through.’
‘And what do you think?’ she asks.
‘It’s quite graphic – the murders, I mean.’
Pearl’s eyes widen. ‘Murders?’
Clark nods. ‘Not the sort of book I’d imagined Mary to write.’
Peal turns to me. ‘She was adamant on the last day I saw her alive that she wanted as many people as possible to read her book.’
‘Maybe she wanted to fulfil a dream of becoming an author?’
Pearl shakes her head. ‘Mary had other plans for that book.’
‘I’m going to borrow Clark’s copy once he’s finished it tonight,’ I say, glancing at him.
He makes a face.
Pearl smiles. ‘You met Mary, didn’t you, Florence?’
I nod. ‘You both used to come to my café every week. Mary always wore beautiful cardigans with fancy buttons and floral dresses with deep pockets. Always very polite. She gave me a sweet older lady vibe.’
Pearl smiles. ‘My mother always used to say that deep pockets contained dark secrets.’
I picture Mary in my mind. ‘I always found her hair fascinating; it was grey with a lilac tint.’
‘Yes,’ says Pearl. ‘I don’t know why she dyed her hair that odd colour. That was Mary. She didn’t care what others thought. Look, she was my friend, and her last wish was for as many people as possible to read her book. I need to make that happen.’
‘Pearl, don’t worry. I review books in my spare time. I’ll see what I can do.’
Ruth’s face appears in my mind. I could also ask her whether she would read Mary’s book and possibly write a review. That would get eyes on the book.
Pearl clasps her hands together and beams at me. ‘Clark has told me about all your wonderful book pictures.’
Clark clears his throat. ‘Let’s go, Florence, we have a lot to do.’
I blink several times at Pearl. ‘Book pictures?’
Pearl nods. ‘He’s even shown me your Instagram site on a few occasions.’
I look at Clark, who is casting Pearl one of his helpless expressions. I didn’t realise he knew about my Instagram.
‘Good luck tomorrow with Rodney,’ Pearl says, flicking my attention away from Clark and back to her situation.
‘We will come and talk to you after Pixie Cove, Pearl.’
Someone shouts after me. I look up to see Molly leaving her house and waving. I glance at my watch. It’s later than I expected. I need to go.
Clark gestures towards his house. ‘I’ll pop over in a bit as I need to feed my cat and sort some stuff.’
He gives me what looks like a nervous smile. I’ll interrogate him later about my Instagram page.
After saying goodbye to Pearl, I hurry over to my house and greet Molly.
She’s on my doorstep, clutching her overnight bag, her Nintendo Switch, and her earphones. ‘Mum hasn’t made me any tea as she’s too busy getting herself ready for the date with that Irish bloke.’
An uncomfortable feeling passes through me, but I ignore it. ‘Let’s go and get you sorted then. What do you fancy? Shall I cook us some pasta and a tomato sauce?’
‘Yes please, Florence,’ she says, entering my house.
She surveys my bookcases, my twinkly fairy lights and all my ornaments. ‘I love coming over here.’ She beams. ‘Your shelves are so pretty and calming.’
While she sits on the sofa and plays on her Nintendo I cook us some tea.
We eat our bowls of pasta on trays on our laps and talk about the books she’s read lately. Molly is a fan of dystopian worlds and science fiction.
After I’ve washed up, I sit on the sofa with her.
Molly takes out her phone to show me some of the nail art she likes on Pinterest, and while her attention is on the screen, I take the time to study her face. I can’t help looking at her eyeliner and the cute little wings she’s added.
‘Your eyeliner skills are so impressive,’ I say. ‘If I tried that sort of thing, I’d end up with black blobs at the end of each eye.’
She laughs and shows me the makeup artist she follows on TikTok.
‘How was school today?’ I ask as she comments on a post.
‘A Year 10 boy has started messaging me.’
I arch an eyebrow. ‘Oh, that’s interesting. Does he have boyfriend potential?’
She looks horrified at what I said. ‘Florence, it’s not cool to have a boyfriend.’
‘Oh, I see. Sorry.’
She rolls her eyes and starts scrolling.
‘Are you okay, Molly?’
She keeps her focus on the screen but flicks away her long black hair and shrugs. ‘It’s hard with Mum when…’
A knock at the door interrupts her. ‘That must be Clark,’ I say, with a groan.
This is frustrating. She’s never going to talk about her feelings to me now. As I get up to answer the door, she picks up her Nintendo Switch. My heart sinks.
He comes in and grins. ‘Hey, Molly.’
She doesn’t look up. The opportunity to talk to her has gone. Worry blooms inside of me and I remember Clark saying that helping Jane with her podcast was not our best performance. I agree with him. My mind replays us arguing over the music and I cringe.
Clark sits in the armchair opposite and asks Molly what game she’s playing.
‘Zelda,’ she replies.
‘If you ever need any help with Zelda, just whistle and I will show up like Epona, except slower and more out of breath.’
Molly stares at him. ‘You’re a Zelda fan?’
He nods. ‘Hey, I’m not old but my knees do make the same noise as a Guardian charging up.’
To my surprise, she giggles. ‘Funny.’
Clark’s face softens. ‘I used to play video games when I needed to escape people.’
She looks up and smiles. ‘Really?’
He nods. ‘When my parents were downstairs arguing, or when my dad had stormed out and my mum was being annoying.’
‘Lol, that’s me on the last one,’ she says, putting down her Switch.
‘Hey – video games are great for allowing us to escape to another world.’
They both go silent, and I want to say something. Words are jostling on my tongue. After a long silence, Molly says, ‘Mum’s busy all the time. She keeps talking about the men she’s dating. I don’t seem to be on her mind any more.’
Clark nods. ‘I felt the same when my parents split up and Mum was angry at my dad.’
Molly looks at him. ‘Really?’
‘Mum was obsessed with trying to find out as much as she could about this woman my dad had hooked up with.’
‘That sounds familiar,’ sighs Molly. ‘Although my mum is obsessed about the men she’s dating. What did you do?’
‘I kept talking to her.’
She grimaces. ‘I told Mum the other night she was obsessed and always loses herself when she dates men. It was in the middle of an argument.’
Once again Clark lets her go quiet. He doesn’t jump to any conclusions or try to steer the conversation.
Molly fiddles with her Switch. ‘I don’t think screaming and shouting at her is working. Now she’s got another man in her life. It’s like what I didn’t want to happen has happened.’
Guilt nibbles away at me. Ronan was my fault.
‘Shouting doesn’t work. I tried that,’ says Clark. ‘You just end up a snotty and tear-stained mess.’
Molly laughs. ‘So much snot.’
I can’t quite believe this. Clark has got Molly to talk.
‘You need to take her out shopping and talk to her over a hot chocolate. She will listen. I promise,’ says Clark.
‘Do you think so?’
‘Your mum loves you, Molly. She’s always telling customers how proud she is of you when I’m in the café.’
Molly’s eyes widen.
‘She loves your netball achievements and that English Lit essay where you got an A.’
How does he know all this? I never have time to listen to conversations.
I watch a smile spread across Molly’s face. ‘I feel a bit better. I love coming here.’
Clark casts me a triumphant look, and to my surprise, I don’t feel irritated by him taking over. My insides feel like they are warm and gooey.