Page 69 of New Beginnings at Lullbury Bay

Miacame to sit at his feet, cuddlingFleurand keeping her from eating something she shouldn’t. ‘Ihad to explain toDaisyandMazall about how theVictoriansunderstood the language of flowers, theLinguaFlora.Canyou imagine,Keith,Daisy’sbeen selling flowers for five years and had no idea of their meaning.’

‘Oi!It’snot too late to retract that offer of promotion,’Daisysaid, poking her with her foot.

‘Well, it’s a long-lost skill,’Keithput in, attempting to be diplomatic. ‘Notmany do know these days.Itwas a hobby of my dear late wife’s.Shewas always the more creative one.’Hepulled a face. ‘Iwas all facts and figures.Shehad a beautiful garden in the house she grew up in as a child.Herfather grew runner beans, strawberries, raspberries.’Helaughed, remembering. ‘Nothingcan beat the taste of a fresh pea picked out of the pod or of a raw rhubarb stick dipped in sugar.Herdad grew flowers too.Lovelygeraniums, dahlias and cornflowers.Whenwe married and took the flatIdon’t thinkSusanreally ever settled.Shemissed the garden too much.’

‘Itwas a nice flat,Dad,’Ricksaid.

‘Itwas, son, but your mother never got over the lack of a garden.Butthen we became busy raising the family.Allgirls, and thenRickcame along.ThinkSusanwas too busy coping with all the children to miss not having a garden.’

‘Howmany girls were there?’Miaasked, deftly catching a paper serviette which attempted to fly off in theSeptemberbreeze.

‘Three.Anne, thenDianaandIsabel, and littleRickhere came along as an afterthought.’

‘Wow.Fourchildren.Nowonder you were busy.’

‘Wewere and wouldn’t have had it any other way.Luckilythe flat was in one of those mansion-house blocks.Builtin the thirties, you know, and roomy.Andby the timeRickcame along,Annehad left home so he could have her bedroom.DianaandIsabelnever minded sharing, thankfully.’

‘AndSusanalways loved flowers?’

KeithpattedMia’shand. ‘Shedid.Sheloved them.I’dbuy her some every week.Freshflowers, the biggest bunchIcould find.Shealways put them in her mother’s best crystal vase on the dining-room table.’

‘Andit survived four children?’Janasked, laughing disbelievingly.

‘Three.Itlasted three children.Thegirls all knew if they broke that vase there’d be hell to pay.’Hebent forward and ruffledRick’shair. ‘Ittook a four-year-old boy on a trike to bang against the table and over the vase went, water and lilies everywhere.’

‘Idon’t remember that!’Rick’seyes went huge.

‘Yeswell,Ithink your mother tried hard to forget too.’Thegroup laughed. ‘Butit got us thinking about the future and where we wanted to be.So, we started saving every penny we could and eventually boughtBeechTreeHouse.Helped, of course, that the flat came with my job which meant no mortgage.’

‘That’sthe lovelyArtsandCraftsoneI’vebeen dropping the flowers off at, isn’t it?’Daisyasked. ‘It’sbeautiful.Ican quite see why you fell in love with it.Ihave too, althoughI’vealways called itWalter’sHouse.’AtKeith’sconfused expression, she explained again about the mix-up, although she knewRickhad already told him.

Keithroared. ‘Ahyes,Iremember now.Fancyme being aWalter, or, for that matter,Warwickbeing aWalter.Seethe problems you cause by not using your given name, son!’

‘Iknow,Iknow.’Rickheld his cup up toJanfor a refill. ‘I’vejust never really liked it but maybeIshould suck it up and in penance for breakingMum’sbeloved vase, revert toWarwick.’

‘WhatdoesDaisythink?’Marionasked, looking sly.Shecrumbled a fragment of cake on a plate. ‘She’sgot a thing about names.’

DaisycaressedRick’sshoulder. ‘Idon’t really care what your name is.I’lljust call you darling.’

Marionmade gagging motions and swapped an amazed look withJan. ‘She’sgone over to the other side,Jan.’

‘Mylittle girl has finally seen the light and discovered romance.’Jangave a mock sigh and clasped her hands together.

‘I’mstill confused,’Colinput in.

‘Canwe get back toKeith’sstory please,’Miapleaded impatiently. ‘It’sjust getting to the interesting bit.Soyou boughtBeechTreeHouse?’

‘Wedid, child.’Keithsmiled at her. ‘Hadour holidays and weekends there.Didit up little by little.Wasa right old mess when we got hold of it.Susantended the garden and then whenIretired, we came down here to live in it permanently.Happiestfew years of our lives.’

‘It’sjust such a shame you andMumdidn’t have more time together,Dad.’

‘Itis but what we had we made the most of.’Atremor of pain crossedKeith’svoice. ‘Yourmother picked up her old hobby.Shetook flower arranging classes and researched the language of flowers on the internet.Then, one evening, she came into the kitchen whereIwas reading in my favourite chair and said she had something serious to talk about.’

‘Oh,Dad, did she know she was ill?’

Daisyput a comforting hand onRick’sshoulder.

‘No, no,Idon’t think so.Notthen.Itwas just something she felt very strongly about.Saidshe’d been to enough funerals toknow how she didn’t want hers to be!Hadall the prayers and hymns sorted, what readings she wanted and what music.Thatwas another of her passions,’ he explained toMia. ‘Sheloved classical music.’

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