With the sun still providing warmth, Florrie set off towards the Grouse and Haggis pub, taking the path through Primrose Park, a route she’d often walked with Ada, who loved long summer evenings like this one. Every Monday evening, she would wander down to the Grouse and Haggis for a game of cards and a glass of port with her friends. The permanent ache in the bottom of Florrie’s stomach hadn’t subsided since Ada passed away, but she was learning to manage it a little more each day.
Having climbed over the stile into the wooded area, she carried on walking along the tree-shaded path. She passed through the deer park and by the side of the lake, and then stepped out alongside the gravel car park in front of Starcross Manor. Taking a sideward glance Florrie slowed. Parked to the left of the stone steps that led to the Manor’s front door was Tom’s car. She was amazed to see it had already been fixed. No doubt, with the circles he moved in, he could afford to pull in favours. She’d never made a claim on her insurance in her life, but knew that her premiums would go up because of this stupid mistake and she couldn’t afford to offer to pay Tom for the damage direct.
Feeling a little discouraged, she carried on down the long driveway and was soon heading up the high street. Hamish Henderson, Dolores’s son, was busy outside his village shop straightening up the fishing nets. Just as he was about to go back inside, he noticed Florrie and shouted over to her, ‘Flowers in Bloom, how many tickets do you think the village can manage this year?’
Florrie knew it pulled in an average of 1,500 villagers and tourists each year, with entry times staggered throughout the day. With each ticket costing twenty-five pounds, which included a cream tea at Bonnie’s Teashop, Rona recouped some costs, whilst the rest of the money – thousands a year – went to charity and was much appreciated.
‘Do you think we can handle more than usual? It is the height of the tourist season, after all,’ Florrie ventured.
‘I had exactly the same conversation with Ada last year and she thought we could try for another two hundred and fifty tickets. It’s okay with Rona, they can manage the numbers, but I appreciate this may be a little overwhelming for you, having such a huge crowd traipsing through the cottage gardens.’
Florrie thought for a second. ‘There will be people to help me. What’s another two hundred and fifty? If we can sell them then why not.’ Her way of thinking was that it meant another two hundred and fifty people would be talking about the possible closure of the gardens.
‘And I’m sorry to hear about Rose Cottage. I couldn’t believe your WhatsApp message when I read it. People have started to talk in the village and they aren’t happy about the proposal. No doubt the meeting on Wednesday will be a lively one.’
‘I’m all for lively, especially if we can make any sort of difference,’ replied Florrie. ‘And I’ve been thinking – but do say no, as I appreciate this has been your domain for many years – but would it be possible this year to sell the tickets from The Vintage Flower Van? Only because it would make more people aware that The Vintage Flower Van and the gardens are going to be no more if W. Houston Property Developers get their way.’
‘That’s absolutely fine by me. The ticket details go on to the website on Thursday, so I can bring you over the first printed batch at the community meeting.’
Florrie noticed that Hamish was looking over her shoulder as he spoke, as though he’d been distracted by something behind her. Just as Florrie turned to see what had caught his eye, the Bugatti drove past them.
‘This village gets more like Hollywood every day.’
‘Hamish! Your mum is one of the most famous women in the world and lives here!’ Florrie said, laughing.
Hamish gave a chuckle. ‘I’ve never seen her as famous, she’s just my mum.’ He gave Florrie a wave before heading back inside the shop to serve some customers.
Crossing the road to the Grouse and Haggis, Florrie realised she was a little ahead of time. Just as she was about to enter the pub, she heard her name being shouted from the other side of the road. Turning around she was greeted by Dolores smiling widely as she navigated crossing the road with the aid of her stick.
‘Aunt Dolores!’ Florrie beamed. ‘You look amazing, and we were just talking about you!’
‘Hamish told me I’d find you out here.’
Dolores really did look phenomenal. The tall, slim woman was never without her cherry-red lipstick, and today she had a matching bright red beret on top of her curly blonde hair. She was dressed to impress, as always, this time in her favourite vivid peacock-blue blouse, which was draped with orange beads, along with her favourite black skirt and green tights. She looked bright as a button.
‘And you have to stop calling me Aunt Dolores, it makes me sound so old.’
Florrie laughed. ‘Age is just a number, and you have a youthful spirit, just like Peter Pan.’
‘You’re right. Not bad for ninety-nine years old! I can’t believe I’ll hit a century at the end of this month.’ She blinked her black spidery eyelashes at Florrie.
‘No way! One hundred? I can’t believe it! What have you got planned for your special day?’
Dolores had had a colourful past with a very successful singing career. Back in the day, fans used to queue for hours in the hope of getting tickets to one of her gigs. She was a sex symbol who’d constantly sold out concert halls and appeared regularly on the covers of magazines and in newspapers all around the world. Every chat-show host wanted her to be sitting on their couch because they knew the viewing figures would rocket. An idol and an institution in her own right, she’d hung out with the rich and famous. In fact many decades ago she’d been linked with royalty, and Scottish newspapers had published dramatic headlines suggesting she had spent time on the arm of Prince George before he married. Little did they know that at the time it was all a cover and Dolores was loved up with her partner Charlotte.
Dolores had a mischievous glint in her eye. ‘I’ve been thinking about exactly what I’d like to do on my special day.’ She waved her walking stick towards the bench outside the pub. ‘Have you got time to take a seat?’
Florrie nodded. She was intrigued and sensed that Dolores had something very special she wanted to plan.
The two women sat.
‘I hear you’ve been having a tricky time since Ada passed away.’
‘I have. It’s all a bit of an unexpected mess and now they’re determined to take The Vintage Flower Van from me.’
Dolores nodded. ‘I can imagine … but we’ll see about that.’
‘What do you know about W. Houston Property Developers?’ Florrie wanted to know everything.
