Page 7 of Finding Love at Roseford Blooms
‘No, thank you,’ Lizzie replied. ‘That looks fabulous.’
‘Freshly baked yesterday, and iced this morning,’ Lucy replied. ‘It’s based on the Treloar family’s recipe from the late nineteenth century, with a few modern, more indulgent additions, of course!’
Lizzie, who already had the first forkful halfway to her mouth, tried to swallow down the tumult that Lucy’s innocent titbit of history had created in her mind. Treloar was a name she didn’t want to dwell on. But, she figured, it was inevitable that she was going to hear it a great deal for as long as she stayed here in Roseford; it had been their village, after all, for over four hundred years. They had a lot more history than the few moments she’d had in their company. Steeling herself, she tasted the cake, and, thankfully, it was exactly as delicious as it looked. That was some compensation.
‘It’s absolutely lovely,’ she said, once she’d swallowed the mouthful.
The café wasn’t overly busy, in the lull between breakfast and lunch, and Lucy seemed in no hurry to get back behind the counter.
‘So, what brings you to Roseford?’ she asked as Lizzie took a sip of her coffee, which was as delicious as the scent that had preceded it.
Lizzie paused, not wanting to get into a discussion about her injuries. She knew if she saidconvalescence, she’d certainly have to elaborate, so instead she just replied, ‘Visiting my aunt. She runs the flower shop.’
‘Oh, yes.’ Lucy smiled happily. ‘Bee’s so lovely, and she’s been so helpful with the wedding preparations. What she doesn’t know about flowers isn’t worth knowing!’
Noting the large diamond solitaire on the third finger of Lucy’s left hand, Lizzie congratulated her.
‘Oh, no.’ Lucy laughed, seeing where Lizzie’s eyes had gone. ‘Despite the engagement ring, I’m not planning a wedding just yet! It’s my best friend, Serena, who’s getting married, and Bee’s sourcing all kinds of amazing flowers for the bouquets and the church. She told Serena that it’s the biggest order she’s had in a while, but she’s been absolutely amazing. I can’t wait to see what they look like on the day.’
‘Well, I’m glad she’s been able to help,’ Lizzie replied. It was nice to know that Bee was so well regarded in the village. She’d cherished her view of Bee as a slightly eccentric, rather hokey flower seller for so many years that hearing about her expertise from someone else was lovely as much as it was surprising.
‘I’ll leave you to your cake and coffee,’ Lucy said. ‘But let me know if you need anything else.’
‘Thanks,’ Lizzie said. ‘I will.’ She turned back to the window as Lucy headed back to the counter to serve a customer who’d just walked through the door. Glancing idly upwards, Lizzie noticed the customer was tall, broad-backed and had darkish blond hair. As Lucy greeted him with a wide smile, clearly pleased to see him, Lizzie wondered if this was the fiancé who’d given her the hefty diamond ring. She couldn’t help eavesdropping as they made cheerful conversation.
‘Just a latte to go, please, Lucy,’ the man said. ‘I’ve got to get back to the office. The wedding of the year’s hit a couple of bumps in the road that the British Heritage Fund has asked me to sort out by the end of the day.’
‘Nothing serious, I hope,’ Lucy said. ‘I’m not sure Serena could cope with any more hiccups. The thing’s had to be rearranged three times already.’
‘Oh, nothing I can’t work out, I’m sure,’ the man replied.
There was something so familiar about his voice, Lucy thought. Then, as he turned, she nearly dropped her fork. Twenty years might have passed, but she was stunned she hadn’t realised the moment he’d spoken. There he was. Simon Treloar in the flesh. Suddenly feeling short of breath, she needed to get out of the café, and quickly. Leaving half of her carrot cake untouched, and gulping back the last third of her latte, wincing as it scalded the back of her throat, she heaved herself up out of the chair and made for the door.
‘Thank you,’ the rather surprised voice of Lucy drifted after her, but Lizzie couldn’t stop to respond. She had to get out of there. The rush of memory was just too much, even after all this time. Hurrying away from the café, she saw the welcoming signs of Bee’s flower shop a few doors down, and felt as though she were seeking sanctuary from memories, like a swarm of wasps, chasing her. Maybe coming back to Roseford hadn’t been such a good idea after all.
8
‘Was it something I said?’ Lucy looked quizzically at Simon Treloar, who’d turned, just too late, to see the departing back of the customer who’d left so hurriedly.
‘You know what some people are like,’ Simon replied. ‘Especially tourists. They tend to forget their manners when they’re on holiday.’
‘She seemed perfectly fine before you walked in,’ Lucy teased. ‘Did you forget your deodorant this morning?’
‘Bloody cheek,’ Simon said. ‘I can still get you turned out of here, you know. I’m sure I’ve still got some ancestral rights over the building!’
‘Not when I pay the mortgage!’ Lucy laughed. ‘But nice try.’ She shook her head. ‘So, what are you going to do about this, er,hiccupwith the wedding?’
‘Oh, I don’t know.’ Simon sighed. ‘Just when I thought I’d dotted the i’s and crossed every last possible t, the BHF throws another spanner in the works and I have to rewrite the rule book. If that’s not too mixed a bag of metaphors.’
‘What’s the problem?’ Lucy asked. ‘I mean, you had a whole bloody film crew swarming over Roseford Hall and the grounds two Christmases ago. How much more demanding could a wedding be?’
Roseford had been the location for FilmFlix’s smash-hit Christmas movie,A Countess for Christmas, which had caused as much upheaval as it had fun for the residents of Roseford. Lucy had fallen in love with one of the lead actors, ex-teen-star Finn Sanderson, and Lucy’s best friend, Serena, had fallen just as hard for Finn’s glamorous co-star, Montana de Santo.
‘The chapel wasn’t open then,’ Simon said. ‘Now it’s been restored, there’s a whole bunch of red tape to cut through. It’s got more preservation orders on it than any other part of the estate, and they’re only prepared to sign off on the wedding if they can have a rep from Head Office overseeing every last moment of the ceremony.’
‘So why haven’t they mentioned this before?’ Lucy asked. ‘I mean, this wedding’s been booked for nearly a year.’
‘Rule changes, instituted by government pressure from the Department for Digital, Culture, Media and Sport,’ Simon said. ‘So, even though this was in the diary long before the most recent legislation, we still have to abide by it. Some suited nob from BHF headquarters wants to be on hand for compliance on the day, and wants every single flower, decoration and order of service documented, so they can be sure there’ll be no damage to the building.’
