Page 73 of The Little Island Flower Stall
‘This is Bella…who am I speaking?—’
The line went dead. Bella frowned at the screen. There was no number to call back on, so whoever it was would have to try again. But while she had her phone out and Celestine chatted to Kelvin, she dialled Rory’s number to see if he could talk.
It went to the answering service.
‘Hey…it’s me. I thought I might be able to catch you, but I suppose you’re busy doing…well, whatever. Call me when you can. I have stuff to tell you.’
Bella ended the call and locked her phone. When she looked up, Kelvin had already left with his orchid and Celestine was taking a printout from the till.
‘Sorry,’ Bella said. ‘I was just…I’ll finish cashing up.’
‘I’ll do it. If you don’t mind, could you pull the flowers in from the pavement?’
‘Oh, sure…’
‘Everything all right?’ Celestine asked, regarding Bella carefully. ‘Have you managed to speak to your gentleman friend yet?’
‘No…I’m probably making a mountain out of a molehill.’
‘Do you know where he’s staying? Perhaps he hasn’t noticed your calls. It might be easier to speak to him in person.’
‘Yes, but I don’t want to seem as if I’m hassling him. It might look a bit needy if I march up to his hotel demanding to see him just because he’s been busy for a few hours. I’m sure I’m not the only thing going on in his life. He has his own business with Violette, for a start. That’s a thought…’ Bella dropped her phone into her bag. ‘I suppose he might be planning to see Violette tonight too – she won’t need a whole load of visitors descending on her at once.’
‘Could you find out? I don’t think that would be a good idea either.’
‘Let me get the flowers in and I’ll try him again before we lock up. And if he doesn’t pick up, I suppose all I can do is send a message and hope for the best.’
Bella stared up at the gabled roof of Golden Hour retirement home, with its row of tall chimneys, the stretch of freshly painted sash windows with delicate net curtains set into a frontage the colour of clotted cream. The sweeping gardens were dotted with lush shrubs and bright floral beds, while the late sun was refracted through the cascade of an imposing ornamental fountain at its centre. She was taken by surprise by how beautiful it was. The serene babble of pigeons high in the trees of the surrounding woods only added to the charm. Admittedly, she didn’t exactly make a habit of visiting retirement homes, but the few she’d been to over the years had seemed desperate, dowdy, depressing places. This was not only beautiful, but it hadsuch a tranquil feel she was half tempted to see if she could check herself in.
Bella was well aware of Celestine’s aversion to ever leaving her own home to retire in a place like this. Since her arrival on Jersey, she’d heard Celestine say the only way she’d leave Villa Rosa was in her coffin, but Bella looked at the view now and decided there were worse places than this to end one’s days.
At her side, leaning heavily on her crutches, Celestine paused and took a weary breath.
Bella turned to her. ‘Can you manage the path? It looks a bit steep and uneven.’
‘Perhaps that’s deliberate,’ Celestine said in a grim tone. ‘To prevent those trapped inside from making their escape.’
Bella gave her a small smile. ‘Come on – it’s not that bad. I was just thinking how pretty it is.’
‘A prison is a prison no matter how you dress it up.’
‘I’m sure most of the residents don’t see it that way.’
‘The ones with any faculties left would.’
‘Celestine…There are a lot of positives, surely? There’s company, help when they need it, safety when they’re feeling vulnerable, no need to worry about cooking or cleaning. I bet it’s nicer than a lot of the houses they gave up when they moved here.’
‘Perhaps. I can only say it’s not for me.’
‘I know. It’s lucky you’re so good for?—’
‘My age?’
‘Well, it can’t have escaped your attention that you’re a bit past middle age now.’
Celestine broke into a raspy chuckle that instantly dissipated the tension. ‘Those are the truest words ever uttered. I suppose we ought to go in and get this over with. Stick by me. I don’t want the staff to see me wandering around by myself and thinking I’m one of their residents trying to escape.’
‘Don’t worry; I won’t let you out of my sight.’
