‘You’re welcome. It was . . . interesting.’ He dipped his head to look at her through the side window. ‘If you ever need to, you know . . . talk, you know where to find me.’
‘Yes. In the penthouse with your scented candles,’ Greta said, and walked away.
She pushed a trolley straight toward the fresh flower cart, craving something to make her feel better. There, she selected bunches of red-and-white dahlias, masses of lush ferns, as well as armfuls of cheerful silk carnations and roses. By the time she reached the till, all the plants were chest-high.
The cashier chortled as she scanned the blooms. ‘Got plans for all these?’
Greta set down a final bunch of carnations. ‘Just adding some colour to my life.’
She loaded all the flowers into her car, until her boot and back seat resembled the garden of a stately home. When she drove away, the colourful heads bobbed with the motion, as if cheering her on.
Chapter 13
GRETA ARRANGED THEflowers throughout the flat.
Dahlias brightened her sitting room, chrysanthemums filled the dining room, and she placed a single yellow rose in a small vase on Lottie’s bedside table. She even found an old gold-framed mirror she’d forgotten she owned, tucked away in a cupboard, and she hung it on the living room wall. The little touches made her space feel cheerier and more welcoming. The flat might not have the refined elegance of Millie’s home, but for the first time, it felt like somewhere Greta could be proud of.
When her doorbell rang, she wondered if Lottie might have forgotten her gym kit and keys. It wouldn’t be the first time she’d returned home, huffing and puffing, to grab something she’d left behind.
Instead, when Greta opened the door, a huge bunch of sunflowers filled the space.
Her thoughts instantly whisked her back to Mapleville, where Jim had offered her the flowers before fading away. After taking him to a derelict hovel for coffee and their tense parting of ways at the garden centre, she’d hoped he would call.
‘Jim . . . ?’ she said.
But purple-rimmed spectacles peeked through the petals instead.
‘Nora?’Greta’s stomach dropped, her surprise mixed with disappointment. ‘What areyoudoing here?’
‘Yoo-hoo, darling,’ her agent chirped, wearing a wide smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. She wore a mustard coat that looked like a cape, and a dramatic black-and-white fake fur scarf draped around her neck.
‘Thought you could do with a bit of sunshine in your life, so . . .voilà.’Nora thrust the flowers forward. ‘These are for you.’
Greta’s annoyance flared, her arms stiff as she accepted the bouquet. ‘Did you bring an olive branch, too?’ she asked, not making it easy for her agent to squeeze inside. ‘A pair of white doves?’
Nora winced. ‘I’ve been mulling over what you said to me, about business with Jim. I just wanted to say I’m truly sorry. You and I have worked together, been friends, for a long time. The whole situation was a slip-up on my part.’
Greta moved to her dining table, eyeing her agent warily. It wasn’t like Nora to apologise like this, or admit she’d made a mistake. ‘It felt like you were nurturing Jim, that’s all. It didn’t feel good.’
‘It was just business chat and nothing more. I handle these kind of showbiz things all the time, so I can become rather blasé.’ Nora blinked over the top of her glasses. ‘Forgive me?’
Greta didn’t reply, still unsure.
Nora lowered her voice enticingly. ‘I put your name forward forBack to the Land.The producers are very interested . . .’
Greta sat down at the table, knitting her fingers together. ‘I don’t know, Nora. I remember a time when fame and success hadn’t gone to your head . . .’
Nora opened her mouth, then shut it again. She pulled out a chair to join Greta. ‘I know we’ve been moving in different directions recently, darling. Things have changed so much since we were two young women, hungry to make our mark on the world. But that doesn’t mean I don’t care.’
Greta took a breath, her posture easing. ‘You do seem to spend a lot of time with the glitterati these days,’ she said with a faint smile. ‘You’ve done brilliantly.’
Nora leaned in. ‘And you’ll soon shine again, too. We just need to find you the right project. Something that excites you.’
Greta was done with chasing roles that didn’t resonate. The jobs Nora lined up for her always felt like compromises, like she was bending herself into shapes that didn’t fit. In Maple- ville, she’d felt more like herself. Although her time there had been brief, it had stirred something inside her—a sense of satisfaction that her current life didn’t offer.
‘If I end up living in a hut, baking bread and tending goats on TV, I doubt Lottie will ever speak to me again,’ she said. ‘The role would give you great visibility, darling . . .’
‘It’s not the type of role I’m looking for.’
