Finding love at roseford.., p.1
Finding Love at Roseford Blooms, page 1
FINDING LOVE AT ROSEFORD BLOOMS
FAY KEENAN
To all the girls, everywhere: you are enough.
CONTENTS
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
More from Fay Keenan
About the Author
About Boldwood Books
1
‘Which part of “I never want to see you again” do you not understand?’ Lizzie Warner wished she were speaking on a landline instead of her mobile, just so she could have the satisfaction of slamming down the receiver. Somehow, ending the call with a voice command didn’t seem to cut it. She gazed gloomily at the traffic ahead of her, wishing for the thousandth time that she’d elected to have this meeting on Zoom instead. But she’d needed to get out of the office, away from Paul and the inevitable conflicts that working with and loving the same person had created, ever since he’d decided to pull the rug so spectacularly out from under her feet.
That was the third call since she’d left, she realised wearily. And there had been plenty of ‘discussions’ before then. But it was no good. The writing had been on the wall long before Paul had decided that he wanted not only to sign over the business they’d set up together to a larger firm, but also to spend several nights with the gorgeous lawyer whom he’d engaged to negotiate the contract. The marketing firm that had been their dream was effectively over. Not to mention their relationship. Although he couldn’t proceed with the sale of the business without her say-so, in the end, it had just been easier to agree. After all, they’d both walk away with a lot of money in the bank, and, in theory, they could both start afresh. But that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt.
Seven years of their life together had been spent building the business, forming a client base and becoming one of the most talked about marketing businesses in the country. Warner-Basset had been all over social media, with a client list that many larger firms had envied. In tandem with their commercial success, Lizzie and Paul had discussed marriage, but it had always been an ‘in the future’ kind of decision. Now, both marriage and the business were off the table, and, despite the boost to her bank balance that selling her half of the partnership would net her, Lizzie had never felt more insecure.
As the traffic picked up, Lizzie glanced at the screen of her phone to double-check her route. Her final client before she signed on the dotted line was based in Hindhead, a fair drive from the offices in London, and she’d never been completely comfortable with driving the route from memory. The sudden onslaught of a summer rainstorm added to her anxiety, and she scrabbled to switch on the wipers and de-mist her windscreen. The dust that seemed to habitually cover her car in the summer obscured her vision even further for a long moment, until the road ahead became clear again. She swore when she realised she’d missed the turning she needed. The ETA on Google Maps already told her she was going to be ten minutes late, and now she had to make an unexpected detour.
As Google’s soothing map voice told her to take the next left, she drew in a deep breath. It didn’t really matter, she thought. This was a handover, not a pitch. It was just that the client had been one of their first, and Lizzie had always been the main contact for them. She felt she owed them a final face-to-face meeting. However, as the rain got heavier, she felt herself beginning to regret that decision.
Proceeding cautiously down a dark tunnel of trees, Lizzie tried to bring her mind back to the imminent meeting. The stuff with Paul could wait. Everything else could wait. She used to laugh when her sister, Georgina, had told her to live in the moment more. Now, the moment seemed the safest place to be. The past was too painful, and the future too uncertain for her to feel at home in either.
At least the heavy tree cover was keeping the rain off. It hadn’t rained for weeks, and Lizzie could feel the tyres of her Ford Kuga gripping the slippery surface of a road covered with weeks of dust and oily emissions. The rain was making the surface treacherous, and Lizzie slowed her speed a little, nervously aware that she wasn’t a terrific driver at the best of times, and these conditions weren’t making her any more confident.
She pulled closely into the hedge as a huge Range Rover Sport came hurtling in the opposite direction, so close to her own car that it set off the proximity sensors. Just in time, the Range Rover slowed, narrowly avoiding taking her wing mirror off.
‘Calm down,’ she muttered to herself. With a bit of luck, she’d be off this lane soon and back out onto the main road.
As she emerged from the tree-lined tunnel, to her relief, the next turn put her on a wider road. Glancing at the clock on her dashboard, she pushed her foot down harder on the accelerator. Hopefully, if she got a move on, she’d only be a few minutes late. The rainstorm had abated and the sun had re-emerged from the bruised purple-black clouds above her, bathing the road in a mirror-like sheen. If she’d been in a better mood, she’d have taken in the quaint, chocolate-box prettiness of the village she was driving through, its red-brick houses and green spaces all beautifully representative of the charming Hampshire landscape, but she was too concerned about making this last appointment on time.
As she accelerated on reaching the faster speed limit sign on the outer edge of the village, the phone rang again. Glancing down at it, she reached to block the call, but as she looked back up she saw a large roe stag haring across the carriageway not twenty metres ahead. In a blind panic, Lizzie slammed on her brakes, forgetting that the surface of the road was like turkey fat in a roasting tin as a result of the rain. As her back wheels spun out towards the white line, and the front end of the car hurtled towards the chevrons marking a harsh bend, Lizzie screamed. The car, lacking purchase on the slippery surface, turned over and hit the bank at the side of the road, which caused the airbags to detonate. The last thing she saw before she blacked out was the stag, jumping over the green bank that eventually stopped the progress of her spinning car.
2
When she regained consciousness, the first thing Lizzie noticed was that her phone was ringing. And that the world was the wrong way up. I must stop that phone, she thought irrationally. But as she reached out to silence it, an excruciating pain in her left clavicle stopped her. As she yelled out in response, Lizzie’s breathing started to get shallower, and she felt the panic rising. What if she was stuck here for hours? What if she already had been and just didn’t know it? What if the car was going to explode with her in it? All of the most terrible scenarios from the worst car crashes in the direst films and TV shows she’d ever seen vied for dominance in her confused mind until she was shaking all over, not just from pain but from sheer, blind fear.
Lizzie could hear her engine ticking over still and forced her mind to slow down. Even if she couldn’t get out, surely if she could switch the ignition off, that would minimise the risk of a fire? Reaching out her right hand, which, thankfully, didn’t cause any additional pain, she burrowed under the hanging remnants of the deployed airbag and found the ignition key, remembering, eventually, that, because she was inverted, she’d better not drop the keys. With a shudder, the engine cut out and Lizzie breathed a trembling sigh of relief. One less thing to worry about.
She was starting to get a headache from hanging upside down in the car, and her left shoulder was throbbing. Raising a hand to her face, she could also feel the beginnings of a nasty bruise on her cheekbone, presumably from the force of the airbag. Then the phone cut into her consciousness again.
‘Just fuck off!’ she screamed at it, the tears starting to drip, irritatingly, into her hair.
‘Can you hear me, love?’ A voice came from the passenger’s side of the car. ‘Are you awake in there?’
Lizzie’s head shot to the left, and through the glass on the passenger’s side of the car she could see a concerned face peering in at her.
‘I’m awake,’ she said quickly, relieved beyond measure to see another human being.
‘I’ve called 999 and they’re sending someone out. Shouldn’t be too long.’ As Lizzie focused on the face, she could see it was that of a kindly looking white-haired older man, old enough to be her grandfather. She thought she could hear the creak of his knees as
‘Thank you,’ she stammered. ‘I saw a deer and just panicked.’
‘They’re responsible for a lot of accidents on this bend,’ the old man replied. ‘A law unto themselves, they are.’ His voice was steady, reassuring, and Lizzie realised that he must be trying to keep her calm, too.
‘Should I try to get out?’ she asked him.
The old man furrowed his brow. ‘Have you been through a check on yourself?’ he asked.
‘What do you mean?’
‘Have you checked to see if you’ve got any obvious injuries?’
Lizzie ran through a quick mental head-to-foot check. Having someone there with her, even a stranger, was helping her to keep focused. Her head hurt, and her cheek, and one side of her collarbone was excruciating, but her back felt fairly normal, even though her neck hurt from the impact.
‘I think I’m OK, apart from my collarbone,’ Lizzie concluded.
The old man looked kindly at her. ‘I used to be the local copper around these parts. I’ve seen a few of these in my time.’
Lizzie nodded, then winced as the movement sent a bolt of pain through her shoulders. The headache was getting worse, too, and she hoped the emergency services wouldn’t be long.
‘Can you unclip your seat belt?’
‘I think so.’
‘Brace your good arm on the roof so you don’t fall when you do,’ the man said.
Doing as she was told, Lizzie carefully undid the belt, and felt her body slacken towards the roof of the car as she did so. Biting back a moan of pain as she changed position, she took several deep breaths.
‘Now, can you get out of your side of the car?’ the man asked.
‘I don’t know.’ Lizzie’s voice trembled. ‘I don’t think there’s enough room between the car and the bank to open the door.’
‘All right,’ he replied. Then he paused as the distant wail of sirens reached them. ‘I think you’re about to get some real help, anyway.’
‘Don’t go!’ Lizzie called out as the man began to move away from the window.
‘I’ll just let them know you’re awake, and what you’ve told me about your injuries,’ he replied. His face appeared briefly at the window once more. ‘Sit tight. Help’s nearly here.’
‘Thank you,’ Lizzie called out faintly. She was still upside down, and stars were filling her vision again. As she closed her eyes, she relaxed in relief as she heard the sirens stop and the crunch of large tyres on asphalt.
The next thing Lizzie saw was a pair of green-trousered legs at the upside-down window, shortly followed by another calm face.
‘Hi.’ The paramedic peered in. ‘Let’s see if we can get you out of here, shall we?’
After confirming the engine was off, and a couple of details about her suspected injuries, the paramedics helped Lizzie through the window of the car, and then put her carefully on a stretcher to the back of the ambulance. The situation now had a distinct sense of unreality to it, but as she glanced back, the sight of her beloved Kuga, looking as battered as she was and still on its roof, made her burst into tears.
‘Don’t worry, we’ll have you sorted out soon,’ the paramedic who was travelling in the back of the ambulance soothed. The rumble of the engine made the ambulance shudder as they set off.
Lizzie tried to relax as the ambulance made its way to the Royal Surrey County Hospital. The painkillers she’d been given for her injuries were taking effect, and she was feeling quite woozy anyway. She was grateful to the old man for speaking to her in such a reassuring way, and for calling the emergency services. At the memory of his kindness to her, the tears started again.
The paramedic reached out and gave her good hand a squeeze. ‘Is there anyone you’d like us to call?’ she said gently.
Lizzie shook her head. ‘Not at the moment.’ After all, she’d told Paul to get lost, and the last people she wanted to see were her parents. They’d only, after their initial shock, settle into the head-shaking routine they’d been employing ever since she and Paul had split, and the company had been sold and she really couldn’t handle that right now. She needed time for everything to sink in. Then she thought about her sister, Georgina. Should she ask the paramedic to call her? But she dismissed that thought, too. Georgina hadn’t ever been there for her: why should crashing a car change that?
3
In the end, Lizzie’s face had taken the brunt of the collision with the airbag, and her collarbone would mend over time, but she’d have to keep it immobilised by wearing a sling for a couple of weeks. Under gentle pressure from the hospital to provide some details, she’d given her parents’ names as next of kin, and so she was unsurprised, when she came to after long sleep induced by painkillers, to see her mother hovering, a look of concerned disappointment on her face.
‘You’re awake,’ Cordelia Warner said. Then, after a pause, ‘How are you feeling?’
Lizzie leaned deeper into the pillows, wishing she could just close her eyes and go back to sleep. ‘OK, I suppose.’
‘Well, the car’s a total write-off,’ Cordelia said briskly. ‘It’s in the hands of the claims investigators now, but they were pretty clear when they phoned Paul that it was unsalvageable.’
The waves of disapprobation seemed to be coming off her mother, and Lizzie could feel them washing over her. Her mother had never been one for pleasantries, or unnecessary affection, and even now she was lying in a hospital bed, Lizzie clearly hadn’t cut herself any slack in that department.
‘Why you had to arrange that meeting, I don’t know. A phone call would have been just as good.’
‘I wanted to see Emma and Seb one more time,’ Lizzie muttered. ‘I felt I owed it to them. That Warner-Basset owed it to them.’
‘They’re going to be far better off with the resources the new company has,’ Cordelia replied. ‘You didn’t owe them anything.’
Lizzie let a sigh escape her lips. ‘Well, thanks for hammering it home, Mum. Was there anything else you’d like to have a go at me for while I’m lying here unable to escape?’
Cordelia’s face softened a fraction, as far as the Botox would allow. ‘I was going to suggest that you came home with me, as soon as you’re discharged. Under the circumstances, and with Paul moving out, it might be easier for you if you had someone to keep an eye on you.’
Lizzie’s heart sank. She hadn’t lived with her parents for fifteen years, and the last thing she wanted to do was move back in with them now, however temporarily. The thought of being under their roof filled her with a kind of anxious despair.
‘Thanks for the offer, but I’m sure I’ll be fine,’ Lizzie replied. ‘I mean, I’ll have to learn to cope sometime, won’t I?’
‘And in the meantime?’ Cordelia said, and for a moment Lizzie saw genuine concern in her eyes. It knocked her off balance a bit, especially in her medicated state.
‘I’ll be fine, Mum, honestly,’ Lizzie said softly. ‘I live in London, remember? I don’t have to drive anywhere if I don’t want to.’
‘Thank goodness for that,’ Cordelia said. ‘After all, it was driving that got you into this mess in the first place!’
Lizzie suddenly felt like the twenty-year-old who couldn’t pass her driving test, even after six attempts and hundreds of hours of lessons. That sense of failure still stung, especially because Georgina had, naturally, passed first time. ‘Perfect’ Georgina, who’d made such a success of everything. Lizzie winced as she gritted her teeth, and tried hard to relax again.
