‘Allow me to help,’ I said, setting aside my list and getting to my feet.
‘Be my guest,’ said Thomas, gesturing to the vase with a flourish of his hands.
He directed me to a sink where I washed the vase thoroughly. Granny’s instructions came back to me down through the decades as always: these flowers have come a long way, give them a fresh, clean start and they’ll repay you for your kindness.
Back on the reception desk, I surveyed the contents of the bouquet. Large-headed white roses, pale pink ranunculus, silvery foliage, the big blue thistles … it would create a wonderful display to greet visitors.
I separated the stems into groups. ‘Ruskus, eucalyptus, eryngium—’
‘Sounds like you’re chanting a spell,’ said Thomas, glancing up from his computer.
I laughed. ‘And the magic has only just begun.’
Ethel looked on proudly from her armchair. ‘She’s a marvel with flowers. I just bash the ends with a rolling pin and hope for the best, but Fearne’s an artist.’
I batted their compliments away. ‘I can’t do anything fancy but my granny was a florist, she taught me a few basics when I was a little girl and I’ve used them ever since.’
I quickly stripped away the excess leaves, snipped stems to the right length and began with the foliage. The largest blooms went in next, followed by the smaller flowers to fill the gaps. Then, I turned the vase around, checking for anything which needed tweaking. Finally, I stood back to look at the arrangement from a distance.
‘That’ll have to do,’ I said.
It was nothing elaborate; I’d have loved to be able to do those big hand-tied bouquets I’d seen at posh florists with spiralled stems which you could simply take home and pop straight into water. Or big modern arrangements with single exotic blooms framed by an arch of steel grass. Or even something like the huge displays Granny used to make for her church which at the time were bigger than I was.
‘Beautiful.’ Ethel gave me a round of applause and Scamp wagged his tail to join in.
‘I’ll say,’ said Thomas, whistling through his teeth. He pulled the vase towards him. ‘I might pretend it’s all my own work.’
‘It’s easy, you could do it yourself,’ I said happily. ‘Start with the foliage. That forms a structure to support the stars of the show. Then just pop in the flowers, making sure each one gets room to shine. Simple.’
‘Simple, she says.’ Thomas winked at Ethel.
‘Easy,’ Ethel echoed and they both laughed.
I found myself blushing. ‘You can say so much with flowers.’
‘You already have,’ said Ethel, beckoning me back over to her.
‘What do you mean?’ I moved my notepad from the sofa cushion and sat back down.
‘You’ve got your first thing for your list,’ she motioned towards the pad.
Of course. A spark of joy lit me from within. My list didn’t have to be made up of big adventurous things like Freddie’s was. My list was for me, what made me happy.
‘Number one on my happiness list,’ I said aloud as I picked my pen, ‘is flowers.’
With a jolt I realised that quite inadvertently, thanks to Cynthia’s sneeze, I might just be at the start of something wonderful, something for me, and something which quite possibly could help me look forward to life again.
A life without my big brother.
I brushed away a stray tear and smiled at Ethel.
For the first time since Freddie died I felt a stirring of excitement: there was a light at the end of the tunnel and I was heading towards it.
The next morning, I woke up feeling brighter than I’d done for months. I bounced out of bed and shoved my feet into my slippers. Without moving from his half of the bed, Scamp opened one eye and gave me a solitary thump of his tail as if to say that he was very pleased for me but he wasn’t quite ready to be quite so enthusiastic for a Monday.
But I was. Today felt different. I hadn’t done anything with my list yet, and I only had one thing on it, but it was already working its magic. It was forcing my mind to consider the future instead of constantly dragging me back to the past. And today, as soon as I found the right moment, I was going to ask my boss for a couple of weeks off. I hadn’t had a chance to find anything yet, but my plan was to go and do something ‘flowery’, some sort of flower-arranging workshop. Because flowers, I acknowledged with a little smile, made me happy.
After breakfast and a walk with Scamp, I made it into work early to tidy up some loose ends. I spent a productive thirty minutes on my own until my boss arrived.
‘Morning, Fearne.’ Bernie perched his plump bottom on my desk and helped himself to one of my mint toffees.
‘Hi, Bernie.’
The toffees served two purposes: they reminded me of my granny who always kept a few in the pocket of her body warmer which she always wore on market days; plus, they had a tremendous capacity of shutting people up when they outstayed their welcome in my tiny corner of the open-plan office.
‘Have you had a chance to think about what we spoke about on Saturday?’ He picked up a printed graph from my desk, scanned an eye over it and put it back down.
This was it; a thousand butterflies began to flap their wings in my stomach.
‘I did,’ I said taking a deep breath. ‘And you were right. I can’t carry on as I am. So—’
‘Excellent! I knew you’d come round! I’ve booked the boardroom and ordered in sandwiches.’ Bernie’s eager face said it all; if ever there was anyone who loved his job more, I’d yet to meet them. He unwrapped the toffee and threw it up into his mouth as if he was catching popcorn. ‘And you’ll be great, you know, it’s like riding a bike.’
I had to bite my lip; we’d be back to his ‘back in the saddle’ metaphor in a minute.
‘Actually, with your permission, I was hoping not to come in at all tomorrow. I’d like to take some annual leave. Immediately. I think the time off will do me good, give me a chance to think.’
‘I’m confused.’ Bernie took his glasses off and polished them on his sleeve. His eyes looked tiny without being magnified by the lenses.
‘I don’t want to do the presentation.’ I gave him a look of apology. ‘I’ve already primed Gary.’
He gave a laugh of disbelief. ‘I thought I’d made the company’s position clear.’
I felt the thrum of a pulse in my ears as my mind raced feverishly ahead.
Choose happiness over habit.
Freddie had been wiser at twenty-two than I was at thirty-four. This job was a habit. It didn’t fill my soul with joy, and I certainly wasn’t happy at the thought of another ten, twenty years chasing promotion.
I’d been planning on simply asking for some time away from the job. But perhaps it was time to move on from here completely. There was a whole world out there if only I was brave enough to discover it.
But was I brave enough? My chest tightened. Was I over thinking this happy list, was I being too literal with Freddie’s advice? I hadn’t thought it through at all and yet here I was, on the verge of quitting my job. My livelihood.
A memory flashed up of Freddie and me charging into the estate agent’s office and making an offer for our house on Pineapple Road. And it turned out to have been one of the best decisions we’d ever made. I could almost hear Freddie’s voice cheering me on: Go big or go home!