Chapter 30
CLARK
I’m in awe of Florence’s determination with Mr Beaver. Once she’s got her mind set on something, she’s a force to be reckoned with.
‘Where’s the tea and kettle, Mr Beaver?’ she asks as he stands, looking bewildered, by the door. ‘Ah, your kitchen. Found it. Take a seat. I’ll make us all some tea.’
He glares at me. ‘Why did you bring Florence Hill?’
I shrug. ‘She gets results.’
Rolling his eyes, he walks over to his chair by the fire. ‘She was a bossy little madam when I taught you both. I can see nothing has changed.’
‘She’s still the same.’
He takes out a hankie and blows his nose. ‘You’re wasting your time,’ he growls. ‘I will not listen to you or her.’
‘Mr Beaver, I hope you’re not being negative in there,’ calls out Florence in a shrill voice.
He shakes his head in disapproval. ‘You could have come by yourself, Clark.’
‘You wouldn’t have let me in.’
I watch a ghost of a smile form on his lips. ‘You’re right about that.’
We look up as Florence comes in carrying two cups of tea. She hands one to Mr Beaver and one to me. ‘I run a café, Mr Beaver, and some say I make the perfect cuppa.’
He casts her a look of horror. ‘You have a business with your dreadful maths skills?’
Florence giggles. ‘That’s why I have an accountant.’
She’s not fazed by Mr Beaver at all.
He shakes his head and sighs. ‘What is the world coming to?’
‘Okay,’ says Florence. ‘Let’s talk about Pearl.’
‘I don’t want to,’ he says, before lifting the cup to his lips and taking a sip. Something flickers across his face. ‘You can make a good cup of tea.’
‘Pearl has been thinking about you all her life,’ says Florence.
Mr Beaver carries on drinking.
‘She is candid about how she married the wrong man.’
He coughs, splutters and puts down his cup on the little table by his chair. ‘Really?’ he croaks.
Florence nods. ‘Tell him, Clark.’
‘Every week I have to listen to Pearl tell me about how she made a big mistake marrying her boss because her mother thought he would offer her a better life.’
I have Mr Beaver’s full attention.
‘She’s thought about you every day.’
He looks up at the mantlepiece, and there is the same photo of them both dancing. ‘I have done the same. How do you know Pearl?’ His voice is low and almost a whisper.
‘Pearl is my neighbour.’
‘Clark and I live in the same cul-de-sac,’ Florence adds.
He rolls his eyes. ‘God help you, Clark, living near Florence Hill.’
Florence giggles. ‘He loves it – don’t you, Clark?’
‘I couldn’t be happier,’ I say, with a wry smile.
Mr Beaver lets out a heavy sigh. ‘I never thought I’d hear Pearl’s beautiful name again. I thought she was lost forever.’
‘Her husband died about ten years ago.’
Mr Beaver looks at me. ‘I didn’t know that. I moved away a long time ago.’ He takes a moment to compose himself. ‘I’ve been in love with her since we met when she was sixteen. We used to dance together.’
I gulp.
‘When she told me she was marrying her boss, I felt my heart break into two. It never healed.’
‘Sorry, Mr Beaver,’ soothes Florence. ‘That must have been hard.’
He fishes out a hankie from his sleeve and dabs away at his wet cheeks. ‘It made me so angry. I’ve been upset about it for years.’
‘Did you ever marry, Mr Beaver?’ Florence asks.
He shakes his head. ‘How could I marry someone else after meeting the love of my life?’
‘Is that why you have been a… excuse my language,’ she says, ‘a grumpy old sod for years?’
I can’t believe she’s just said that to Mr Beaver.
He looks at her. ‘You always had a way with words, Florence Hill. In answer to your question – yes.’
I stare at him in shock. That’s what Pearl needs to hear.
‘Did you know Clark came to visit you in the hospital once?’
He looks at me and nods. ‘I did, but I was too angry to thank you, Clark.’
Words jostle on my tongue, but I can’t push them out.
‘You held my hand, Clark.’
Florence is gazing at me. I gulp back a wave of emotion.
‘You made me feel like someone cared,’ Mr Beaver continues.
My eyes have become watery. He picks up his cup. ‘I will always be grateful.’
‘Right then,’ says Florence. ‘How are we going to reunite you and Pearl?’
Mr Beaver puts down his cup. ‘You’ll have to bring her here. I will be waiting.’
I look at Florence, and she smiles. It’s a different sort of smile. For the first time, it reaches her eyes and takes over her whole face.
We leave Mr Beaver’s house bursting with optimism.
Once inside my car, she turns to me and says, ‘I’ve seen a whole new side to you, Clark.’
The fluttering in my chest returns, and this time I don’t question or suppress it.
She holds my gaze, and I think back to that moment we had in the bookshop. I wanted to kiss her so badly.
The journey back is full of banter, jokes and Florence giving me feedback on my favourite playlist. Time slips by with ease, and soon we’re pulling up outside my house.
‘Thanks for that,’ she says, before opening her door. ‘I enjoyed myself.’
‘Shall we go deliver the good news to Pearl?’
Something flickers across her face. ‘What if Pearl wants to visit him tomorrow?’
I shrug. ‘I’ll take her. You have the café.’
I’m expecting her to tell me about how she can’t close the café tomorrow and remind me that we need to do tasks together, but she doesn’t. ‘Good plan,’ she says, which leaves me speechless. ‘As long as you’re okay with driving all that way. I’ll give you money for petrol.’
‘Are you feeling, okay?’ I ask.
She nods. ‘Time is running out, and I trust you, Clark.’