Isla was talking sense, but Florrie had a tiny niggle in the back of her mind. ‘Isla, The Vintage Flower Van. I promised Aunt Ada it would live on. It’s been in that spot for decades.’
‘I was just thinking the same, but it won’t be the end of the van. Like you’ve already considered, we can tow it to Buttercup Barn and have it as an extension to your florist shop. It won’t be quite the same but it would allow the van to live on and keep trading.’
‘How did I not know this place was rented?’
‘One phone call to W. Houston Property Developers will sort everything, I’m sure.’
Despite Isla’s attempts to reassure her, Florrie felt her chest squeezing tight as she looked over the letter again, worry still etched on her mind. This had been her childhood home for many years and Aunt Ada’s sanctuary for many more. It was going to break her heart leaving it all behind.
ChapterFive
‘It’s ten to nine. I really should be getting over to Buttercup Barn. Would you be able to wait until Martha arrives? The Vintage Flower Van is all set up and ready to go and I’ll pop back during my deliveries this morning to see how’s she going,’ asked Florrie.
‘Of course, and take this letter with you.’ Isla handed Florrie the letter. ‘Ring them from the shop and I’ll pop in on the way back to the farm.’
Quickly clearing away the dishes and starting the dishwasher, Florrie picked up her bag and the letter and walked out to her van. As she sat behind the wheel, Tom Houston was very much on her mind. There was a part of her that was torn. If the conversation didn’t go the way she wanted when she telephoned W. Houston Property Developers, should she track down Tom and try and speak with him? ‘Absolutely not,’ she said, thinking out loud.
She turned the key. The van didn’t start but the radio sang out. She smiled to herself, used to going through this same rigmarole every morning. She knew that on the third turn, Rose, her reliable van, would start … and it did.
The song on the radio took her by surprise and she froze. It was the same song she and Tom had declared their two-week holiday anthem all those years ago. Her eyes flitted from the radio to the glove compartment. She hesitated for a second then opened it and reached right to the back. She lay her hands on what she was looking for and brought out an iPod that had once belonged to Tom. When their holiday had come to an end, Tom had dropped her back at the university and helped her pack up her belongings for summer. Wheeling her suitcase into the car park he’d asked which was her car. She’d pointed and a wide grin had spread across his face.
‘I always wondered who that van belonged to; I should have guessed.’
‘Meet Rose, named after…’
‘The flower,’ he guessed. ‘I’ve not seen anything quite like it.’
Her turquoise van covered in hand-painted roses was unique and full of character. ‘No other flower is as famous or popular. The Rose outshines everything else.’
‘Just like its owner,’ Tom added, locking eyes with Florrie, making her stomach flip with multiple somersaults.
‘I love her. She’s part of the family. She takes a while to start, the heater is broken and the left-hand window doesn’t close properly, but it’s a great way to store flowers, especially in the winter as the van has its own refrigeration going on.’
Tom laughed. ‘And what is your favourite flower? The rose?’
Without hesitation she said, ‘The red tulip, the perfect love. The dark centre of the flower represents a lover’s heart, darkened by the heat of passion.’
Tom pulled her in towards him, kissed her passionately then whispered, ‘I’ve left you a present. It’s in your bag.’ There was a twinkle in his eye. After she watched him drive away, she immediately opened her bag to discover his iPod with a small note tied around it. The note had a hand-drawn heart with her and Tom’s initials written on either side. Turning the iPod on she found that Tom had created a playlist of all their favourite songs from the two weeks they’d spent together. Florrie hadn’t listened to that playlist in eight years.
Taking the plunge now, she connected the iPod to the van, and as the first song sounded through the speaker, Florrie was instantly transported straight back into Tom Houston’s arms.
Five minutes later, Florrie parked outside her florist shop and took in the delicious aroma that wafted past her from the creperie. Crossing the path, she walked towards Buttercup Barn, which always looked delightful with its olde worlde charm. The beautiful shopfront was full of colour and happiness, with artificial flowers tumbling around the oak-beamed porch. The display highlighted the natural beauty of the season with two wooden cartwheels adorning each side of the oak door with its wooden heart hanging in the centre. After unlocking the door Florrie picked up the post from the mat before walking over to the counter and taking the letter from W. Houston Property Developers out of her bag. Then, with a pounding heart, she picked up the phone and dialled the number printed on the letter. Within three rings the phone was answered. ‘W. Houston Property Developers, how may I help you this morning?’
Florrie took a deep breath and crossed her fingers. ‘Hi, my name is Florrie Appleton and I currently live at Rose Cottage, Heartcross Village. The property was rented from you for many years by my great-aunt Ada who’s recently passed away. I’ve now received an eviction notice and I’d like to discuss transferring the lease to myself, with maybe a view to purchasing the property from you in the future. I’m hoping you can help me.’
‘Let me put you through to the right department. Please hold the line.’
The call was transferred and it seemed like the longest two minutes of her life. Florrie listened to the classical music playing from the other end of the line whilst she waited for the next member of staff to become available. Willing them to hurry, she was finally connected.
‘Miss Appleton, how may I help you?’
Once again and still with her fingers crossed, Florrie explained the situation and waited whilst she heard the woman on the other end of the phone tap away on her keyboard. After going through a few security checks, and confirming she was indeed Ada’s next of kin the woman said, ‘I’m so sorry to tell you, Miss Appleton, but the lease on Rose Cottage will not be renewed. The cottage is no longer available for rent. The eviction date will stand and the property needs to be vacated by the last day of the month.’
Not quite believing what she was hearing, Florrie asked, ‘Please can you tell me why?’ She heard her voice crack. ‘This is my home, and my family business is run from here. Is there a right of appeal? Surely someone can help me?’ she begged, feeling desperate.
‘I’m sorry, Miss Appleton. According to the records, Rose Cottage was under very old lease terms and though W. Houston Property Developers honoured that lease during your great-aunt’s lifetime, it was terminated with her passing. All I can tell you is that the file says the property will no longer be available for rent.’
‘Is that because it’s going to be sold? Because if there’s any chance I can have right of first refusal…’ Ada had left Florrie a few investments and though she still wasn’t sure exactly how much she had, and whether she could afford to buy a property, she was determined to make it work somehow.
