Free The Little Flower Shop by the Sea by Ali McNamara Page A

family’s many flower shops from around the globe. If I’m going to do this – and believe me, Amber, this isn’t coming easy to me – I’m going to do it my way.’

‘Would you two youngsters move aside please, we’ve flowers to get into the shop.’

We both turn to find three ladies of varying ages and builds unloading flowers from a small white van.

‘I’m sorry,’ I say to the one fast approaching the shop door carrying a large pot of carnations. ‘The shop isn’t open today, and it won’t be for a while until it’s refitted.’

‘What?’ a middle-aged woman, who’s wearing a Barbour jacket and a paisley headscarf tied jauntily around her neck, demands. ‘Don’t talk nonsense. We only close on Sundays and Mondays. Stand aside at once.’

‘No.’ I step in front of her. ‘You can’t come in today, I’m afraid. As I just said, the shop
won’t
be opening.’

Amber barricades herself across the doorway, her arms outstretched in a dramatic fashion, so the sleeves of her brightly coloured blouse billow like sails across the frame.

The woman regards Amber and then me as if we’re minor irritations she could do without.

She sighs. ‘Beryl, Willow!’ she calls to the women offloading the van. ‘Do you know anything about this?’

Beryl and Willow poke their heads around the side of the van.

‘These
girls
,’
she says with disdain, ‘won’t let us into the shop.’

Beryl, a well-built older lady with grey curly hair, and Willow, a tall, slim girl of about twenty, put down the boxes of flowers they’re holding and stand side by side in front of the van, folding their arms across their chests.

The woman in the Barbour turns her head back to me. ‘I don’t know what you think you’re doing,’ she says in a low voice, ‘but I suggest you both move. Beryl, Willow and I have work to do. We don’t take kindly to being held up.’

I defiantly fold my own arms now, and stare hard into her face. Is this woman really spoiling for a fight here in the middle of St Felix? Goodness, things have changed!

Beryl and Willow begin to walk silently towards us.

As I steel myself against the women’s approach, I’ve never been so glad to hear the dulcet tones of the local constabulary asking: ‘Good morning, ladies. Can I be of any assistance here?’

Woody! Thank goodness.

‘Police Constable Woods, just the person,’ the Barbour-jacket woman says, smiling sweetly. ‘These girls won’t allow us access to the flower shop.’

As Woody looks at us, he jumps in surprise, firstly at seeing me again, and then at Amber barricading the door.

‘Is this true, ladies?’ he asks.

‘It sure is!’ Amber cries. ‘We will not, we will not be moved!’ she sings.

‘What my friend means, Woody,’ I say sweetly, ‘if you don’t mind me calling you that?’

He nods.

‘What Amber means is, I own this flower shop now and the shop will be closed until further notice.’

Woody looks back at Barbour-jacket woman. ‘Well, Harriet?’

‘What proof does she have?’ Harriet demands. ‘Aren’t you going to ask her that, PC Woods?’

Woody turns back to me. ‘She has a point.’

‘I have a key,’ I say, reaching into my pocket. ‘I think that’s proof enough.’

‘Well, I have a key right here too,’ Harriet says, holding up a key on a piece of rope.

Woody begins to look a bit panicky.

‘This was my grandmother’s shop. I’m Poppy, her granddaughter, and I’ve inherited it. You can ask Amber here, or Ant and Dec up the road, or Rita and Richie in the Merry Mermaid or —’

‘Or me.’

Jake.

Woody turns to see Jake and Miley standing on the opposite pavement watching the proceedings.

‘I can vouch for Poppy; her mother phoned me to say she’d be coming down to take over the shop a few days ago.’ He walks over towards us. ‘And as for you, Harriet, I’m surprised Caroline didn’t phone and tell you that you wouldn’t be needed today. She knew all about Poppy taking over