Spring on the Little Cornish Isles: Flower Farm Page 5

  Will groaned. ‘Really? Thanks. Now I know why you run the operations side of things while I stick to the fields. I’ll get back to Len and see if he’s still freaking out about the flower refrigeration room.’ He collected his phone from the table. ‘Oh, I dropped in on Princess Gabriella before the system threw a wobbly. She’s very smart, but I’m not sure she’s right for the farm. I’ve no idea why she wanted to hide away in the middle of nowhere or where she thought a degree in poetry comes in. Maybe she’s going to read to the Innisidgens.’

  Jess recalled Gaby’s quotation about the sea with amusement but decided not to share it with Will. ‘It’s actually a PhD in poetry, and apparently she wanted to try out a new lifestyle away from the city. Plus she did fix the pump.’

  ‘A lucky break,’ said Will. ‘We’ll see how she gets on.’

  ‘People have a lot of different reasons for coming to Scilly. Some of them end up sticking around,’ said Adam, shooting a knowing look at Jess that made her skin tingle. She didn’t think she could wait much longer to drag him off to bed. ‘I think she’ll do OK,’ he added.

  ‘As long as you don’t call her Princess Gabriella in front of Len and the others,’ said Jess.

  Adam laughed at Will. ‘I reckon you’ve got a handful there, pal.’

  ‘I don’t know what you mean. Len will soon kick her into shape,’ he said.

  Jess got up and Adam slipped his arms around her waist. Jess put hers around his neck.

  Will made a fingers-down-throat gesture. ‘Do you mind not doing that holding hands and kissing thing in here? Why don’t you get a room?’

  Adam glanced at Jess, who was still gleeful at seeing Will so wound up by Gaby. ‘Great idea. We might do that, hey, Jess?’ They both loved teasing him. ‘We ought to start practising for when we have kids. I think half a dozen would do for starters – you need a team of unpaid pickers.’

  Will pulled a face. ‘Eww. Lovey-dovey stuff. Puts me right off my coffee. I’m off to do some work while you two get on with it whatever it is.’ He walked into the yard, shouting. ‘Leonard! I’ve sorted the cardboard order.’

  Jess gasped. ‘Hey! I did it!’

  Adam laughed. ‘Leave him. He has to have some victories after losing that spat with Gaby. His face was priceless.’ He pulled her into his arms. ‘Let’s forget about them. I’ve been dying to get you on your own.’

  ‘Do I have a say in this brood of little flower pickers?’ she said, guessing Will thought Adam was joking about the kids, whilst she wasn’t so sure. Maybe they should have the conversation later at his cottage. Or now. ‘Because two will do,’ she said.

  Adam laughed. ‘Like I said, we’d better put in some practice.’

  He slid his hand under the hair at the nape of her neck. Closing her eyes, she let her head tip back, anticipating the touch of his lips on hers as he gently pulled her in for a kiss. When it came, the kiss made her knees buckle and her whole body feel as if she’d been dipped in popping candy. It was the weirdest, but most wonderful sensation. No one had ever made her feel like that, not even when she’d been a teenager and had a Christmas kiss with the best-looking boy in the school. Now she was in her mid-thirties she felt she had no right to feel so intensely. She would have been scared by it but she was ninety-nine per cent sure that Adam felt the same way and that their relationship was about to move on to the next level.

  Adam held her and she rested her cheek against his chest, enjoying the beat of his heart under the warm cotton and the scent of him. That was what was so amazing about being in love, she thought: being able to abandon yourself to a kiss, and to one person. Sod the world, sod the business, sod everything except the two of them: her and Adam, even if it was just for a few minutes or hours. She’d love to have that feeling of pure joy every day and for the rest of her life – but was it possible? It hadn’t been for her mum and dad – or Maisie – but it could be for her and Adam.

  ‘Did you mean that, about the room?’ she murmured, looking into his eyes.

  Adam’s face was suddenly serious. ‘Of course. We need to talk about it. Shall we go to my place or does Will need you here?’

  ‘Sounds like the best offer I’ve had all day. Will always needs me here, but I’ve done my bit and it’s technically my day off. I’ll come back later tonight to see how Gaby’s doing.’

  Adam kissed her again and Jess thought she might take off with happiness. And lust. Things were going well: for the farm and finally for her love life.

  ‘Come on then,’ he said. He took her hand as they walked to Thrift Cottage, which nestled behind a stony bay at the far end of the island.

  The next couple of hours were lost in some deliciously wicked downtime before the shadows lengthened outside and Jess reluctantly started to get dressed. No matter how much she wanted to stay in bed with Adam or sleep over in the cottage, there was way too much to be done at the farm and she didn’t want to abandon Gaby on her first night. Despite what she’d said to Adam earlier, running a farm meant she never really had a ‘proper’ whole day off.

  ‘Sorry. Have to go back to work soon,’ she said, pulling her T-shirt over her head. ‘I can’t leave Will on his own for much longer. It’s not fair.’

  Adam sat on the edge of the bed, still naked. ‘We can spend more time together when you move in … you’ll be in my bed every night. Come here.’

  Jess joined him at the bed and stood between his legs. Even now the sight of him made her long to jump straight back under the patchwork cover with him. In fact, it was crazy not to move in with him as she already spent plenty of nights here each week. There was no reason to wait any longer and it wasn’t as if she had to move any further than half a mile from the farm. Everything could carry on as before, only much better. She held his head between her hands, leaned down and kissed him, feeling as if she could float on air.

  ‘Let’s talk about it tomorrow evening. Shall I come for dinner?’ she said.

  ‘Sounds perfect. Stay over and we can start moving your stuff in.’

  ‘I hope you can find room for my extensive collection of fleeces and wellies.’

  ‘Of course, but don’t bother with any underwear, will you?’

  ‘Ha ha,’ said Jess, brimming with excitement while also wondering what her mother’s reaction would be. Will would be happy for her, but her mum had dropped enough hints for Jess to work out that she didn’t think an island postman was good enough for her daughter. Jess wasn’t too concerned. She had long since ceased to care what her mother thought about her choice of partners and where Adam was concerned, she was resolved not to let her spoil her moment.

  A buzzing came from underneath Adam’s abandoned boxers.

  ‘Yours or mine?’ she asked.

  ‘Sounds like mine. Probably Javid calling me about rowing practice …’ He glanced at his watch. ‘Oh shit, is that the time? I promised to meet him down at the gig sheds ten minutes ago. See how you’ve distracted me. I’ll call him to say I’ll be late.’

  Jess moved away as Adam picked up his phone and frowned at the screen.

  ‘It’s not Javid … it’s a text … I don’t know …’ His voice trailed off and he stared at the screen for a few moments. His smile evaporated and he scrolled down further.

  Jess joined him on the edge of the bed. ‘Adam? What is it?’

  ‘Nothing. It’s nothing.’

  Her stomach turned over. ‘It doesn’t look like nothing. You’ve gone as white as a sheet.’

  ‘I’m fine.’ He threw the phone on the duvet. ‘It was just a junk message. Sick of them to be honest.’ Flashing a smile at her, he grabbed his shirt. ‘I need to get down to the sheds. Sorry …’

  ‘Oh. OK, I should be getting home anyway. See you tomorrow?’

  ‘Yeah. Sure.’ Adam pecked her on the cheek before scrambling into his clothes.

  Jess looked at the phone lying face-down in the folds of the duvet. Adam’s reaction convinced her the text had been more important than he was letting on, but sh
e certainly had no intention of checking his mobile. She trusted him to tell her if anything was amiss.

  Adam saw her to the front door. He always stood in the porch watching her until she was out of sight of him – perhaps longer for all she knew. He still stood there today, but as she reached the point when she would lose that last glimpse of him, she turned around to find the porch empty.

  She told herself she was being paranoid and she was tired at the end of a long summer of work … and sex. Then she thought back to the hasty kiss, the eager removal of his hands from her waist and to the empty spot on the cottage porch and shivered. She was probably overthinking things but she had the feeling that whatever was in that text, it had shifted Adam’s world on its axis and, with it, her own.

  Chapter 5

  Five and a half months later

  Valentine’s Day

  The Flower Farm, St Saviour’s

  Well, it was one way to spend Valentine’s Day … Gaby took a swig of coffee from her mug as she and her fellow pickers enjoyed a quick break in the ‘staff rest area’, which was actually an old farm building with a couple of ancient sofas, a sink and kettle. It was the middle of the morning and she was more than ready for a break. Her back and arms ached already and it wasn’t eleven a.m. yet. Her dungarees were damp and despite the rubber gloves, her fingers were almost numb as she warmed them on her steaming mug.

  The stems had grown thigh-high and the fields were aglow with blooms. Beyond the hedges, the Atlantic Ocean was topped by frothy whitecaps whipped up by the brisk February wind, while the other isles were green oases in the silvery-blue sea.

  It had rained overnight; in fact, it had been raining for a few days now and the fields were thick with mud that threatened to ooze over the top of her wellies. However, the skies had now cleared and she’d been able to forgo the bright yellow oilskins provided by the farm. They kept her dry but also swamped her and Gaby felt like she was in a TV ad for frozen fish fingers when she was wearing them. There was still a keen wind gusting so she’d kept on the extra layer of luxury thermals she’d been given by Carly when she’d gone home for the Christmas break.

  Gaby still had to pinch herself from time to time, amazed she’d survived through the winter rain and gales and into the spring. When she looked around her, she stood in her own ocean: the flowers around her were a sea of cream, gold and green. She’d been harvesting two of her favourites: Daymark, with its creamy petals and bright orange cups and Yellow Cheer, a double-headed variety with a subtle but lovely scent.

  Since arriving at the end of the summer, she’d alternated between the fields and sheds. She’d learned how to pick the tightly closed buds when they showed the merest hint of colour and carefully hold huge bunches under her arm before placing them in deep white crates called Proconas. They were then whizzed off to the packing sheds by quad bike and stored in a refrigerated room until the team were ready to arrange them. Over the months, she’d also learned how to grade and arrange the different varieties into bunches of tens and pack them in tissue-lined boxes ready to be transported to the St Saviour’s quay and on to the airport.

  She’d guessed she’d have to work hard when she first arrived but nothing could have prepared her for how tired she’d feel. Even after tending her own allotment at her college and working for the commercial nursery, harvesting the narcissi was knackering – especially in the run-up to Christmas and the previous week as they’d worked into the night to make sure all the Valentine’s bouquets reached their recipients in time for today.

  Gaby still remembered the look on Jess’s face when she’d first landed at St Mary’s airport almost six months previously – and the dismay on Len’s craggy features when they’d been introduced: not to mention Will’s horrified expression.

  He was still brusque, impatient, and his jokes weren’t anywhere near as funny as he thought they were. However, she’d soon found out that even though he was the boss, he was prepared to take as much banter as he dished out. In return, Gaby had been determined to give as good as she got and the two of them had earned a reputation for sparky exchanges.

  Slowly but surely, she’d settled in at the farm almost without realising it. Many were the times when she’d been so exhausted, so stiff and cold that she’d thought of swimming home to Cornwall. But with the help of her mates at the farm and at home supporting her, and a bloody-minded determination, here she was, a fully-fledged member of the team. Besides, no amount of back-breaking work or taunts from Will could ever compare with the tough times that she’d been through at home.

  She’d also fulfilled her other ambition to visit Tresco Abbey Gardens. In fact, she’d invested in an annual pass and been half a dozen times, as there was colour and beauty in the exotic plants all year round. She’d spotted the red squirrels and had become quite a fixture, making friends with some of the staff and meeting up with them when she could get away from the farm. She felt she was slowly building a life on St Saviour’s – even though it was temporary – and although she still thought of her brother several times a day, there were times when hours passed and she realised he hadn’t been on her mind and that the remembrance of him didn’t come with quite such a sharp pang of loss as months before.

  Thinking of Stevie and home she decided she would call her mum and dad after her shift today. Maybe they’d like a bunch of the narcissi she was harvesting. She could make up a special bouquet of her favourites and send them to her parents. The Carter family had an emotional day coming up soon so she had the perfect excuse to see how everyone was coping. It would have been Stevie’s twenty-second birthday later in the month and Gaby was sorry to be away from home on a day that was bound to be hard for everyone including her.

  Gaby started to walk back into the field and back to work cramming the remains of a Mars bar in her mouth. That was one thing: she could eat what she liked with all the physical work and though she’d put a bit of weight on, even Carly had said she looked ‘miles better’ when she’d seen her at Christmas, ‘apart from the ruddy cheeks and farmer’s tan; I’ll send you some of my sunscreen, instead of that cheap rubbish you use’. She went back to her picking. Carly would be horrified if she saw her now: knee-deep in damp flowers with a wet crotch and hair like a scarecrow. She might take a selfie and send it tomorrow. Anything that could bring a smile to her family’s faces was worth doing.

  Chapter 6

  Jess drank in the scent of the blooms she was helping to harvest. She’d been working in one of the lower fields since early morning. The farm had safely got through the week leading up to Valentine’s Day with a healthy stream of orders that, thankfully, had reached customers on time without any major disasters. The days were lengthening and the temperatures slowly but surely creeping up. Spring was here.

  She didn’t normally work outside and Valentine’s Day itself ought to be a time for a breather but the flowers kept on growing anyway and the farm had a large wholesale order for a supermarket to fulfil. Most of all, she was hoping that a busy day in the fields would help to blot out the event she’d wished would never come, but was actually happening.

  That had been a false hope judging by the way her stomach turned over when she heard the low-pitched drone of the plane engine in the sky above her. That sound meant the end of long-cherished dreams that she’d clung onto against all the odds for months now.

  Will was walking towards her down the row between the narcissi. She took a deep breath, filling her senses with the scent, hoping he wasn’t going to offer her sympathy or she might actually cry. It was a forlorn hope because the first thing he said when he reached her was, ‘That’s Adam’s flight.’

  She nodded. Adam and Will had remained civil and met up with their rugby and rowing mates, but Jess realised their relationship had cooled too.

  ‘How do you know?’ she asked him.

  ‘Patrick told me last night. Adam was in the pub and mentioned it. I’d guessed that Maisie told you too?’

  She swallowed the lump in her t
hroat. ‘I think Adam wanted me to know he was leaving today.’

  ‘You can’t know that for sure …’ She felt Will’s hand briefly on her shoulder, but then he removed it, probably not wanting to draw the attention of the nearby field workers. ‘I’m sorry, Jess.’

  She gulped back a sob and dug her nails in her palm. ‘It’s not your fault.’

  ‘Maybe, but he is – was my friend. I wish I could have made him see what a dick he’s being.’

  ‘It doesn’t matter now. It’s over.’ She brushed her knuckles over damp cheeks.

  Will dug a handkerchief out of his pocket. ‘It’s clean,’ he said as she hesitated.

  ‘Thanks.’ She took it and hastily wiped her face.

  He grinned. ‘Sorry. Almost clean.’

  She laughed but another sob bubbled up. ‘Oh, Will. Shit. Why am I bothered about him still? It was over last August, the day he got that text.’

  ‘I did try to ask him what the fuck was happening but he made it clear it was between you and him.’

  ‘That’s no help because he wouldn’t even tell me anything.’

  She took a few deep breaths. When her mind had dwelt on why Adam had decided to end their relationship over the winter months, she’d tried to think of the good things like her family, her friends and her home. Many times, over the previous autumn and through the long dark nights of winter, she’d reminded herself how lucky she was to live in such a beautiful place.

  The engine note changed as the Twin Otter climbed higher after leaving St Mary’s airport. It banked, heading straight for the farm. If she looked up, she might be able to see the passengers in the windows of the tiny aircraft. She imagined Adam’s face and wondered if he was feeling as devastated as her – or was he merely relieved to finally be out of her life for good?

  ‘I keep trying not to care but knowing he’s up there makes it feel so bloody final. The final nail in the coffin.’