Page 113 of Pansies

“Alfie, it’s not fine. It’s really not fine.” Fen’s voice rose and broke. “Basically, I have no money. I am running this shop on nothing. And the bank is about two red letters from taking everything.”

Alfie ran his hands soothingly down Fen’s back, trying to still his trembling. “Did your mam keep an accounts book or summin?”

“Yes, she had lots of shop stuff. I copied it all to my laptop when I sold mum’s computer.”

“Okay, so. Give me that and the rest of the day, and I’ll see what I can do.”

The practical approach seemed to calm Fen a little bit. Which was good because Alfie was way better at doing things than he was at saying things. Fen gave him a mock glare. “You’d better not look at my porn.”

“I promise. But, er, what kind of porn do you like? Just out of curiosity, y’know?”

That won the faintest of smiles, and Fen scurried upstairs to get the laptop.

Which meant Alfie was left alone in the flower shop. And, of course, despite the place having been deserted all morning, now a customer wandered in. An anxious-looking woman, about Alfie’s dad’s age, with iron-grey hair and a stern, hawk-nosed face, who stared at the displays with obvious bewilderment.

“Alreet there?” said Alfie awkwardly.

She nodded.

There was a long silence.

“Just came in for some flowers like,” she offered eventually.

“Oh aye?”

“Aye.”

Alfie peered down the corridor. No sign of Fen. What the fuck was he doing? Using the porn?

“Were you looking for anything in particular?” he asked.

“Just some flowers like.”

This was…not going so well. If Fen’s mam was best at this and Fen was good enough, then Alfie was bottom-of-the-pile clueless. He knew fuck all about flowers except what Fen had told him. Could probably just about recognise a daffodil if pushed. But then, what was that other thing Fen had said? That flowers were about people.

“I mean,” Alfie tried, “were you lookingforanyone in particular?”

The woman prodded at something Alfie had no chance of recognising. A fancy lily maybe, with big curling petals? “Just…a friend.”

“Yeah?” Alfie had no idea. “So, er, how is she? Your friend?”

“Bit doon, truth be told.” The woman sighed. “It’s the chemo. It’s tough on her. Just thought I’d get summin to cheer her up.”

“That’s a good idea. She’ll like that.” Alfie got out from behind the counter and tried to look even a little bit like he knew what he was doing. “So, do you know what kind of flowers…”

Panic flashed across the woman’s face. Followed by a hot blush. “I’ve nivver bought her flowers before. Norrin forty years.”

“Well.” Alfie wasn’t entirely oblivious to subtext, but he wasn’t very good at dealing with it. He tended to blunder right through the middle and turn it into…text. “It’s never too late to start.”

“I was always too afraid what people would say.”

“I bet girls can get away with buying each other flowers.”

She shrugged.

And Alfie felt sort of weird and itchy. It was the wrong answer, and he knew it was. “And, anyway, fuck ’em. It’s nobody’s bloody business who you buy flowers for. Or what it means if you do.” He grinned. “So we going for it? We doing this?”

“Yes.” The woman took a deep breath. “Damn right we are. Except I divvent have a clue what she’d like.”

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