Page 9 of The Little Island Flower Stall
‘The…dunes. What do you call them?’
‘Mielle.’
‘What about a phrase?’
Celestine paused and then smiled up at her. ‘Sai la bienv’nue en Jèrri.’
‘What’s that mean?’
‘Welcome to Jersey.’
Bella grinned. ‘Thank you.’
‘You meanMèrcie bein des fais, don’t you?’
Bella repeated the phrase, her grin spreading. ‘Mèrcie bein des fais. I’ll try to remember that one at least, though the others might take a bit longer.’
‘I’m sure it’s lovely that you’re interested but hardly anyone will understand you. I’d stick to English and perhaps occasionally some French.’
‘My French is a bit rusty, to be honest.’
‘I can help you with that too.’
‘Clever Aunt Celestine.’
Celestine laughed again. ‘I don’t think so! I learned it all as I learned English, growing up. Quite honestly, I probably learned Jèrriaisbefore I learned English.I remember my father speaking it all the time. Came in very handy during the war – the German soldiers didn’t have a clue what we were talking about. Oh, I remember my father used to call them some very unflattering names as they went past on their patrols, but he did it with a smile so they never knew.’
‘When the island was occupied, you mean? It must be so weird to think of that time now.’
‘I don’t like to, quite honestly. I might be able to joke now, but they were dark days.’
Sensing that she ought to change the subject again, Bella pointed to a wooden kiosk that looked like the sheds they had at Christmas markets, only wider. It was painted a periwinkle blue and sat upon a sand-dusted section of the promenade. ‘Is that the stall? I think it was painted a different colour last time I was here…I suppose you’ve painted it a few times since then?’
‘It’s likely a completely different stall as well. The old one was rotting away. Can’t quite recall how many years ago that was, but at least ten.’
‘It might be then.’
Celestine halted the scooter and handed Bella a set of keys. ‘Would you like to open up? Might as well get used to the lock – it can be a bit awkward.’
Bella took the keys and fiddled with the padlock to find it wasn’t as bad as she’d been expecting. Then she threw open the shutters and peered inside.
It seemed a bit dark and not very exciting. The inside wasn’t painted like the outside but was bare chipboard. There was a counter, with boxes and trays equipped with scissors, ribbons and wires, as well as some green stuff she’d seen used in flower arranging, though she didn’t know what it was called. The idea of that suddenly struck her as funny. Some florist she was going to be if she didn’t even know the name of the green stuff they used. She had a lot to learn, but she tried to see that as a good thing. While she was learning, she wouldn’t be thinking about Sean, and if nothing else came out of these next few weeks, she had that blessing.
When she looked back, she could see Celestine trying to get out of the scooter.
‘What are you doing?’ she yelped.
‘I’m going to go inside and?—’
‘No, you’re not! You’re going to stay there and tell me what needs doing. I didn’t bring you out here so you could start working – that’s what I’ve come over for.’
‘I hate feeling so useless,’ Celestine began to grumble, though she fell back into her seat again.
‘You’re not useless; you’re injured.’ Bella folded her arms and regarded her aunt sternly. ‘I can see I’m going to have my work cut out with you, and I’m not talking about the stall. Are you always this stubborn?’
‘I have no idea – it’s not often I’m forced to sit still like this.’
‘Just as well. Your ankle isn’t going to heal if you’re constantly on it.’
