Alex Hines - Chance

‘What I’m after is something that will look as if my husband has bought it for me. Like I said, I need something romantic.’

Ava blinked, momentarily baffled by such a curious statement. Was the woman buying something that she wanted her guests to believe she had had bought for her? The way that she was now avoiding her gaze suggested this was exactly what she was doing. For a second, the awkwardness hung in the air between them. Then, just as suddenly, the tension left. Ava thought no more of it – if she were to spent her life trying to second-guess people’s reasons for buying flowers, she would be quite mad by now.

‘Edmund, do stop that!’ the woman said with resignation, leaning to take her child’s chubby hand. Squealing, he ran across the shop, where he hid behind Matt’s legs. ‘Darling, behave!’

After rummaging around in her handbag for a scrap of paper and a pen, the woman glanced up at Ava. Leaning on the back of an expensive-looking navy blue wallet, she wrote a name and number.

‘Super. It’s very charming in here so I’m sure you’ll do something appropriate. Why don’t you call the house later and talk to Mary about delivery and sorting out payment.’ She half-handed, half-threw the piece of paper to Ava, while grabbing her son and attempting to strap him wriggling into his buggy seat.

‘No problem,’ said Ava. ‘So, two dining table centrepieces and something romantic, and I’ll speak to – Mary, was it?’

‘Yah, Mary.’

Once again the woman avoided eye contact and then, at twice the speed they had arrived, the family were gone.

As the door closed behind them, Matt looked up with a smile.

‘Told you,’ he said.

‘Told me what ?’

‘Roses on a Monday – they never go anywhere happy.’

‘Oh, you are such a cynic!’

But deep down, Ava felt a prickle of uneasiness as she wondered what was going on in the woman’s life. Seemingly she had it all, yet she was bristling with tension.

‘Just you wait, we’ll have a romantic in before long!’ she added lightly, causing Matt to roll his eyes at her.

She walked over to the twine and started rolling.

As Ava returned to her heap of Monday morning paperwork, Matt put together some of the arrangements that they created for local businesses, occasionally stopping to take payment from some passing trade. Ava noticed that he was selecting some elegant lilies and arranging them with some of the greenery he had prepared earlier. It was for Ruston’s then – the hairdresser on the corner of the high street. Ava was very fond of Sarah the manageress there and the two would sometimes go for a glass of wine after work to discuss business (and end up talking about anything but).

She still felt slightly unsettled by the brittle woman who had been in earlier. Though she had been treated far worse in the past, especially in London while working for Nigel, there was something about the pure invisibility that the woman had caused her to feel: she was so sure of her place in life, so glossy and confident. Ava imagined how sophisticated her dinner party that weekend would be, and imagined her husband thanking her for it afterwards, before they headed upstairs. Someone like Ava was of no interest at all to this woman – there was barely any respect there at all, and certainly no admiration.

Ava made a start on the invoicing, while making sure that her suppliers in Holland and London, as well as locally were paid, and checking that she had invoiced her clients in the nearby hotels, restaurants and private homes. These were the jobs that brought her financial security, but it was the passing trade that interested her most. She enjoyed feeling like an agent for romance, helping men to make that special gesture, or creating bouquets to celebrate births and weddings. So often it was up to her to sprinkle the magic on a situation, or to encourage communication at moments of extreme emotion for those who otherwise said little of importance to each other. She pushed Matt’s conviction that a percentage of her flowers were merely props for cheating hearts to the back of her mind. Yes, she was an agent for romance not an aide to the unfaithful.

The filing complete, she shuffled through the junk mail that had gathered over the weekend. Pizza delivery, cheap cable TV deals and local taxi companies … She shoved it all into the recycling bins beneath her feet, thinking of the weekend she had bought the bins with Rob, shortly before the shop opened. They had still been friends then, yet to turn their relationship into a romantic one. Not that they were a particularly romantic couple these days. After all, a courtship spent hunting for recycling bins would never lead to too many sparks flying. But Ava loved Rob – kind and consistent, he might be attractive in a catalogue kind of a way but he was everything Mick hadn’t been. She looked down at the recycling bins again and saw that in with the pizza leaflets was a flyer for the local arts centre. Sarah had mentioned it the last time they met – she was thinking of taking some classes.

‘You all right down there?’ asked Matt.

‘Yeah, yeah,’ she replied, absentmindedly. ‘What time would you like to take lunch?’

‘Ooh, I don’t mind, whenever suits. Soon?’

‘No problem, and while I remember – I don’t have to get to the supermarket tonight as Rob’s said he’ll cook at mine, so I can lock up.’

‘You’re kidding? That would be great – I offered to give Amy another driving lesson tonight.’

Ava forced herself not to flinch at the mention of Matt’s airily optimistic plans to teach his girlfriend to drive.

‘Yeah, it’s fine. Honestly.’

‘Great stuff, we’re both happy! Amy gets her lesson and you get a romantic dinner for two.’

Ava smiled at the memory of Rob promising to make her favourite pasta dish tonight. She had been very proud of the roast she put on yesterday, but hadn’t expected him to make such a sweet gesture in return. Cooking wasn’t a strong point for him, so she knew the offer was heartfelt and was secretly a little smug about it. Romance didn’t have to be all champagne and roses. An image of herself pointing in a mirror and mouthing ‘You’ve still got it, gal’ floated through her mind. Obviously there was the mild anxiety about what he might do to her kitchen, left unattended, but she had chosen to overlook this and focus on the loveliness of a meal cooked for her.

‘Look at you – all flushed with excitement!’

‘Oh, behave,’ she muttered, blushing at having been caught out in her daydream. ‘Go for your lunch now then, or I might change my mind about tonight.’

Within minutes of Matt heading out to get his sandwich there was a sudden lunchtime flurry: a cheerful woman of a certain age who spent 10 minutes looking at each of the bunches of Dutch tulips to check she had chosen the best, a retired gentleman after a bay tree for his garden, an unnervingly over-familiar woman who seemed to relish telling Ava exactly how much she knew about each and every one of the bunches on offer and a brisk, housewifely type who seemed furious that daffodils were no longer in season and out on the pavement for a pound a bunch. Ava did her best to keep everyone happy, while leaning back once or twice to take the odd phone call. Just as she said goodbye to the final customer, she heard the shop door go again. She turned around, mildly frustrated that a Monday lunchtime had turned so chaotic, and saw the back of a man’s head already bent over the lowest row of flowers.

‘Hi there, can I help?’ Fake it till you make it , she told herself. He’ll be gone in a minute.

‘Yes, please – I’d like some roses, please. The most gorgeous you’ve got …’