Wildflowers (20 page)

‘I can’t tell you what a relief it is, just to get out without him,’ says Elise, taking a large gulp of her wine.  I suggested we share a bottle, because at a time like this, we’ll need at least that.

‘I still don’t understand,’ I say to her.  ‘I always thought you two were what us lesser mortals could only dream of – you know, so in love and always dressed so…’  I break off, not wanting to sound rude.

‘Like tweedle dum and tweedle dee?’ 
she says bluntly.  ‘Nauseating, don’t you think?  I tell you, Frankie – I’ve just about had enough. We were far too young…’

‘How young?’

‘Believe it or not, we met at school.  Yes, I know,’ she adds, seeing the look on my face.  ‘We were fourteen.  Can you believe it? 
What
was I thinking?’

‘It was
awfully
young,’ I say diplomatically.

‘We got married at nineteen – and to start with, it was all very exciting in a sweet way…’

‘So what’s gone wrong?’

She pauses,
then sighs.  ‘The trouble is, it’s like shagging my brother. I’m very fond of him, but I’m not in love with him.  And I only realised when I started having an affair…’

I gasp and she looks up at me. 

‘I met this guy six months ago.  It’s nothing complicated - just sex.  Are you shocked?  Only I realise what we’ve been missing. I’ve decided, Frankie.  I’m leaving him.  Neither of us are happy and if I wait for Ryan to do something...  Anyway, I’ve handed in my notice at work – I’ve just got to find the right way to tell him, that’s the hard bit.’  She bites her lip and fixes clear eyes on mine.  ‘You’re not going to try and talk me out of it, are you?’

‘I wouldn’t dream of it,’ I tell her.
I wouldn’t dare.  She’s clearly made her mind up. ‘If it’s that big a mistake, why waste any more time together?  It sounds like you should never have married in the first place.  You were too young.  And we only get one life, after all… No, Elise – you go for it.’

‘Thank you…’ 
Her shoulders slump.  ‘That’s what I think too.  It’s just Ryan…’

‘Oh, he’ll find someone else to wear his matching t-shirts,’ I say,
clapping my hand to my mouth and suddenly thinking I’ve overstepped the mark again.

But Elise giggles.  ‘It was faintly ridiculous, wasn’t it?  Oh God… I hope you’re right
.’

‘What will you do?’  I’m full of admiration for her – not for busting up her marriage but thinking it through and
having the courage to do something about it, when it would clearly be easier to stay.

‘
I’m going to start my new life with the travelling I should have done years ago,’ she says, her eyes lighting up.  ‘Like one of those mid-life crisis gap years, only a bit early.  I’ve already bought my air ticket to New York, and from there I’m going to hire a car and cross the States and just see what happens.  I’m thinking LA, Hawaii, then Australia, but I can decide when as I go along.’

‘
Wow.’ Suddenly I’m truly envious.  ‘That sounds awesome, Elise.’

‘
I can’t wait… Sorry, I can’t believe I haven’t even asked you about Honey,’ she says apologetically.

‘Oh,
don’t worry about them.  I have a feeling they’ll be just fine,’ I tell her.

‘I hope so.  Johnny needs a woman like her,’ says Elise.
‘You know – together and well…’  She glances at me.

‘
Bossy?’ 

She giggle
s.

And so another hot summer turns to autumn.  With all the running I’m doing, I’m fitter than I’ve ever been and have far more energy too.  The most stressful of weddings suddenly seem more manageable, even when a bride calls me the night before her wedding to tell me she’s been to the church and I’ve got the wrong shade of pink.  In the past, it would have thrown me into a panic, imagining doom and gloom and the end of everything I’ve worked for – but it doesn’t.  Firstly, I have pictures and detailed descriptions, as I remind her.  But also, they’re only wedding flowers.  I know they look good, she’s got exactly what she ordered and honestly, in the grand scheme of things, she needs to get a life.

I can’t help thinking I’m probably storing it up for Maria and Pete’s wedding, which is in two weeks’ time and that by then I’ll be in meltdown with nobs on.  I’ve had another call from Josh, still digging for snippets of wedding info and I think I can safely say that after what I’ve divulged, while Maria and Pete say their vows, he’ll be the other side of the country.  I shall so enjoy telling him all about it – when it’s over.

Before then
, however, is the charity dinner which Lulubelle’s organising.  I don’t know how she does it, co-ordinating top-notch caterers, an MC, not to mention auction prizes and a fantastic band I’ve never heard of – all while looking after Cosmo.  She’s persuaded a country house hotel to lend her their ballroom and it’s going to be a seriously grand occasion.  I’m doing the flowers for her at cost, though there are a few little add-ons I haven’t told her about.

And s
omewhere in all this, I need to find time to buy a frock.  Nothing too over the top, but elegantly befitting the occasion.  Honey and Johnny have taken a whole table and rather unfortunately, out of a misguided sense of solidarity, Johnny invited Ryan.  But the trouble is, with everyone else being couples, I’ve a horrible feeling it’s me who’s going to be lumbered with him…

But before
any of that can happen, there’s work to do.

‘Right!’
I say bossily.  ‘Listen up please!  This is really important.’

I still find it hilarious bossing Honey around. 
She’s learning, my vociferous friend.  I can tell she’s dying to answer back, but she doesn’t, just clenches her teeth and listens. 

‘Skye – I want you and Honey to set the vases up on the tables, on the round mirrors
, with four candles on each table.  I’m going to decorate the mantelpiece and then we’ll see what flowers are left after that.  And can we not take too long because I want to have a shower and wash my hair before it starts.’

True to form, Mrs Orange arrives, just as we’re loading the van
and sticks her head inside, frowning.

‘It’s a charity
dinner, not a wedding,’ I say a little sharply, before she starts imparting pearls of wisdom about bride’s hair and all that nonsense. 

‘That explains it,’ she nods knowingly
and gives me a witchetty grin.  ‘I couldn’t understand, duck – didn’t feel like no wedding.  You can tell.’

Leaving me staring after her as she crosses the road and goes to talk to Mr Crowley.

I know for a fact that Lulubelle’s going to be delighted, because not only is she getting free labour
from three outstanding florists (us) but Milo, too, cut us a deal on the flowers, which was more than covered by the sale of the unwanted Hindu wedding flowers. 

Some of the tables
are having tall vases and others low ones, of gorgeous yellow lilies and lots of wild green foliage.   It’s simple - but fantastic.  Then on the ornate mantelpiece, beneath the huge guilded mirror which is hung above it, I make a long decoration which snakes along the length of it, with candles and lots of wild bits of twigs and foliage poking out.  It’s more Constance Spry than modern florist, but it catches the eye and is perfect for the setting.

We
even finish early, which means lots of time to shower and pamper and make myself glamorous.  And already, I’m starting to look forward to it.  Maybe I’ll even meet a man – an interesting one, who will be charming and handsome and slightly impressed when I modestly let slip I did the flowers.  Except I won’t. I’ve already decided no-one’s going to know.  For once, I’m not going to boast about them.

As
I walk out to the van, I’m looking forward to a hot shower with my new exotic, body scrub and the sexy underwear I treated myself to because even I can’t wear grey old knackered pants under a posh frock. But as I’m just about to drive away, in my driving mirror I catch sight of a flustered looking Lulubelle rushing after me.

‘F
RANKIE!  Oh Frankie!  I don’t know what to do… Only the band aren’t here… I was expecting them a couple of hours ago, just to set everything up.’

‘Call them,’ I tell her. 
Duh
…

‘
You don’t think I haven’t tried
… I’ve actually called them a dozen times now.’ I’ve never seen her so frantic.  ‘What are we going to do?  I’ve sold all these tickets promising music and dancing – and at this rate, there isn’t going to be any.  Oh my God…’  She runs her fingers through her hair.  ‘It’s a complete disaster…’

She stands there, distraught.  After all the effort she’s put into tonight, I wish
more than anything I was the kind of person that knew about bands.  Or even just
a
band – we only need one.  And with a flash of pure genius, I remember I do.

I
leap out of the van and grab her hands.  ‘Do you trust me?’

She looks worried.  ‘Oh no, Frankie – what are you thinking?’

‘I can’t say.’  I shake my head, my mind racing at a million miles an hour.  ‘But I might just be able to lay my hands on a fantastic musician – not literally – I don’t know of course until I speak to him, but…’

A fl
icker of hope appears on her face.  ‘Is he good enough?  He has to be
really
good…’

‘Oh
, yes,’ I say, sounding like the dog on the Churchill advert.  ‘You can safely say he’s good.’

She stares at me,
then decides.  ‘Ok!  But he has to be really,
really
good,’ she shouts, as I climb back into my van.

‘
Okay…’ I yell through the window, speeding away.

Once I’m home, I
call Maria, who has my number programmed into her phone now and greets me like an old friend.

‘I’ve a massive favour to ask you,’ I say, slightly nervously
, wondering if I dare do this.  ‘Only, I’m helping with this fundraising ball tonight.  It’s for Briarwood and the band haven’t turned up… You don’t have er any ideas, do you?’

‘Like Pete?’ she says
, sounding a little cautious.  ‘Hold on a minute, I’ll get him for you.’

He’s there almost instantly.  ‘Yo!  Frankie!  How’s it going?’

‘There’s been a disaster, Pete – and it’s such a massive thing to ask, and I’ll give you a discount on your wedding flowers if you can help…’ I gabble, desperate.  ‘Twenty per cent, no – fifty per cent, yes – fifty - only the band for the charity ball haven’t turned up.  We have no-one… I don’t suppose you could do anything, anything at all…’

There’s silence and suddenly
I realise, I’ve only tried to bribe one of the most famous faces in rock history.

‘It’s a bit complicated,’ he says.  ‘You know – I was lying low, keeping out of the way…with the wedding coming up…’

‘Okay,’ I swallow my disappointment.  ‘I understand.  I’m so sorry, Pete.  It was really cheeky of me to even ask you – it’s just that I was desperate and couldn’t think of anyone else…’

‘Hold on a minute, babe.’  Yep –
the great Pete McNamara actually calls me babe!  The line goes quiet and I hear faint mutterings in the background.

‘Ok.  You’ve got a deal.  Only this is how we’re going to play it…’

I’ve done it!  I
’ve managed to get Pete and a couple of his band for the ball tonight!  I’m so excited I could fly!  I call Lulubelle.

‘I have got you the greatest band you won’t believe,’ I tell her breathlessly.  ‘Everyone is going to love them, guaranteed – only there’s one condition.  They’re going to make their entrance as soon as the auction is over, so we’ll need some background music for the beginning.’

‘That’s already set up,’ she says, sounding relieved.  ‘We’ve already got the hotel’s music system in place, just in case - so no problem there.  Frankie?’

‘Yes?’

‘You are absolutely one hundred per cent certain that nothing can possibly go wrong?’

‘Hundred per cent,’ I tell her, crossing my fingers and feeling a flutter of panic.  ‘Trust me Lulubelle – it’ll be fine.’

Breathe deeply.  What can possibly go wrong
?

For once, not my outfit.
  I love my gorgeous, multi coloured, swirly new dress, because I’m not a slinky black sort of person and in this one, I feel like me, only a better version of me.  For once, my hair too has gone exactly as I want it, loosely pinned up, just the odd strand escaping in keeping with my new, sexy-but-glamorous image.

‘Honey’s dress
…’ I whisper to Lulubelle.  ‘Definitely Charlie’s touch, wouldn’t you say?’

She
smiles.  No way would Honey have chosen that for herself.  It’s soft and slinky and slit to the thigh and her hair is a mass of waves.

‘
And
you
look completely amazing,’ I tell Lulubelle.  She’s wearing a black designer dress and her hair looks professionally styled.  Now
how
did she find time for that?  ‘Like a film star.  Now, I hope you’re not worrying...  Everything’s under control.’

She still hasn’t asked me who the
band is.  I’m just about to tell her when I see Alex walking towards us. 
Oh God
.  My heart sinks, because he’s completely drop-dead gorgeous.  And after everything that’s happened, I really don’t want to feel like this.

‘Hello Frankie, you look great
.’  His eyes linger on me and suddenly I feel rather hot.  

‘H
i, Alex.  Thank you.  Oh – I’m so sorry – could you just excuse me…’

It’s so much easier this way. 
And just like that, I walk slowly off to join Nina and Will, feeling his eyes boring into my back. 

‘Very cool flowers,
Ms Valentine.’ Nina looks incredible.  Her golden dress seems to be poured onto her and a very handsome Will is attentively at her side.

‘
Why thank you,’ I whisper.  ‘But I’m incognito tonight.  Not touting for business, just a guest like everyone else is… Isn’t it fab here?’

Nina nods. 
‘It really is.  It’s fantastic.’

With all the guys in bow ties and dinner jackets and the girls in every shape and shade of designer under the sun, it’s quite a sight. 
Then as Lulubelle comes to join us, I frown.

‘Lulubelle, you
really
remind me of someone.’

‘People always say that to me! 
It’s only because you’ve never seen me in anything other than my Mummy clothes…’

She
nods.  It’s true, but even so, there’s something very familiar about her.

‘Anyway, what’s going on with you and Alex?’
she asks me. 

I
stare at her.  ‘Absolutely nothing.  Didn’t he tell you?’

‘I thought you got on well… I saw you talking at the fundraiser.’

‘
He
was talking,’ I say pointedly.  ‘He wasn’t remotely interested in listening to me.’

But before
she digs any deeper, some VIP’s arrive and she hurries over to greet them.

Dinner is sublime, but then these tickets are just under a hundred pounds a pop, so it
had to be.  I know Lulubelle’s dreading something going wrong, but if it does, it’s covered up so cleverly, absolutely no-one knows.  The service is seamless, with empty bottles replaced by full ones, plates cleared and each course appearing as if by magic – all exactly as it ought to.

There’s only one rather large blot on the landscape, in the form of Ryan, sat as predicted next to yours truly.

I try.  I really do.  

‘I was so sorry to hear about you and Elise,’ I sa
y, after all, a broken heart isn’t fun.

His eyes narrowed.  ‘She was a bitch,’ he said.  ‘Everyone says so.’

Okay.  We’ll lose the sympathy. ‘So, are you enjoying this evening?’  I change the subject swiftly.

He just shrugs
.  ‘S’okay.’

That d
oes it.  Feeling shitty or not, no way is he ruining it for me. 

‘I’d say it’s far more than okay, Ryan,’ I mutter at him, warming to my subject, thinking why didn’t Elise dump him years ago?   ‘It’s a truly wonderful evening for the most worthy of worthy causes… And for your information, Elise isn’t a bitch in the slightest, as you jolly well know, seeing as she put up with you all that time.  So stop feeling so sorry for yourself and pull yourself together.’

Through the auction, Honey and Johnny peruse the list like kiddies in a sweet shop.  When Johnny wins a luxury weekend for two, he whoops loudly and they grin excitedly at each other.  Incredibly, the bids for more or less everything skyrocket.  In the spirit in which the evening was intended, these wonderful people are giving more than any of us imagined.

Then it’s done.  We’re just waiting
for the band and everyone’s eyes are on Lulubelle, as she walks across to take the microphone from our auctioneers. 

But as
she opens her mouth to speak, a deafening chord resonates through the room.  Then comes another, and another, from the corners and as a beat starts up, everyone, it seems, recognises it. And then people are on their feet, cheering, screaming even, as the band cross the room towards the stage.

And by the stage, I watch Lulubelle frozen, watching them.