Page 93 of The Little Island Flower Stall
‘Why? It all seems clear to me – there’s no need to explain.’
‘You were angry.’
‘More at myself than you, now that I think about it.’
‘But if you were, I get it. I cocked up.’
‘You don’t have to explain. Lisa explained your situation. As for us, I instigated things, I pushed it – you only did what any man would do with that temptation.’
‘That’s not how it was.’
‘That’s how I see it.’
‘Yes. But like you, we’re separated. We were separated then.’
‘It doesn’t change the fact that you should have been honest with us both in the beginning.’
He shook his head. ‘I’m sorry – I’m making this about me when it should be about you. I’ve blown it; I know that. From now on, it’s about what you need. What can I do to help? Is there something I can do here?’
Bella put down her cup and lay back on the sofa. ‘I don’t think so. I might sleep for a while.’
‘You want me to stay?’
‘No. Mum and Dad will be here soon.’
He hesitated and then finally got up. ‘I’ll see myself out then.’
‘Please. If that’s all right.’
‘I’m sorry about Celestine.’
‘I know. Thanks.’
A moment later, the front door clattered shut, and Bella was alone once again.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Bella rearranged the flowers on the grave. The headstone was new and smooth, the words etched in gold. The family had tussled with the idea of burying Celestine alongside Roland. Her parents had wanted to, but Bella wasn’t quite so sure. Knowing what she now knew about their marriage, she wondered if it was what Celestine would have wanted. In the end, the decision had been taken from their hands because they’d found a will and Celestine had left instructions for her burial. She’d requested her own plot, and nobody was going to argue with that. She’d also left Villa Rosa and Bay Blooms to Bella’s dad, her closest surviving relative.
And so here Bella was, several months later, living in Villa Rosa and running the stall her great-aunt had so loved. It was like nothing had changed, and yet everything had changed.
‘I’d better go and open up,’ she said to the grave. ‘Wouldn’t do to be late, would it? I’ll pop in and see you next week.’
Walking slowly towards the gates, Bella could just make out the line of the sea in the distance. The church overlooked St Rosa, and almost all of its past residents could be found here in the churchyard. If she’d had more time, she might have been tempted to track down some more of her own ancestors; they’dbe here, their stones shaded under heavy-boughed trees or nestled in the branches of spiny holly bushes. Perhaps one day she’d get round to it.
As she threw open the shutters of Bay Blooms, she noticed a hunched figure out the corner of her eye and turned to see Dolly shuffling over.
‘Morning!’ Bella called. ‘Been to pick up your bread?’
‘Yes.’ Dolly pulled a paper box from her shopping bag and held it out. ‘And I picked up an eclair for you. You still like them, don’t you?’
Bella smiled ‘Do I! I’m never going to go off eclairs! You shouldn’t have done, but thank you.’
‘Well, you’re so good to me.’
‘You’re good to me. What time shall I expect you for tea this evening?’
‘Is six too early?’
