Spring on the Little Cornish Isles: The Flower Farm. Phillipa AshleyЧитать онлайн книгу.
had obviously been ordered online from John Lewis and was actually a rather nice one. She tried not to smile too much while he shrugged it back over his broad shoulders.
‘Don’t forget this.’ She offered the flower.
‘Thanks.’ He took the buttonhole from her, pulled a pin from his lapel and started trying to fasten it.
‘Hold on. You’re making holes in your new suit.’
She took the bloom from him, stuck the pin between her teeth and in seconds had fastened the narcissus neatly onto his lapel. With a gentle tweak to make sure it was at exactly the right angle, she stood back to admire her handiwork.
And him.
Wow. This was quite worrying. The way her hands weren’t quite steady when she’d finished fixing the flower. The way her stomach did a routine to rival an Olympic tumbler at the feel of his suit under her hands. The hungry way that he was looking at her despite her tea cosy hat and her dungarees with the strange flask-shaped bulge in the pocket like she was nursing a baby kangaroo.
He lowered his chin and peered down at the buttonhole. ‘I’m impressed.’
‘Practice. I’ve fixed them lots of times for friends during exams,’ she said. When he looked surprised, she added, ‘They liked to wear a different colour carnation for every day of Finals. It lightens the mood a little as you’re going to the gallows,’ she explained as his brow creased in puzzlement.
‘That’s how I feel.’
She laughed at his gloomy expression. ‘Then again, this is a wedding, not root canal work.’
‘Hmm … look, thanks again, and if there are any problems, you can reach me or Jess on our mobiles. It might take a while for us to get here, but if it’s an emergency, you must call.’
‘Relax. Enjoy. Everything will be fine,’ she said breezily. If only she meant it.
‘I’m sure it will. And, Gaby …’
‘Yes?’
‘Are you absolutely sure you’ll be OK?’
He looked at her and lifted his hand as if he was going to touch her but then dropped it again. He can’t possibly know what today is, Gaby told herself. No one outside the family knew. She wasn’t sure he even knew about Stevie at all. She had mentioned the circumstances briefly to Jess not long after she’d joined the farm, but asked her not to tell anyone else. She didn’t want anyone’s pity, least of all Will’s, but she did crave his respect … Oh, who was she kidding? She fancied him like crazy, and the sight of him in a suit and wellies was fuelling a load of very unusual fantasies.
‘I’ll be fine,’ she said, then cleared her husky throat. ‘Just go to the wedding, Will. Please.’
Yet he made no move to leave her, and they held each other’s gaze too long for boss and employee. For a few seconds, she genuinely wondered if he might jump on her in his wedding suit in the middle of a muddy field.
‘Will! What on earth are you doing? You’ll ruin that suit!’
At the shout from behind him, Will turned sharply, but Gaby could already see Anna making her way into the field. Like her son, Anna was also wearing wellies, but any resemblance ended there. She was holding up the skirt of a purple shift dress while hobbling between the flower rows. She wore a fitted teal jacket over the dress and her immaculate blow-dry was topped by a fascinator of extravagant blue and purple feathers. She reminded Gaby of a very angry peacock.
She reached them, darted an accusing glance at Gaby and then rounded on Will, while keeping her tight dress above the level of her wellies.
‘I’ve been looking for you for the past twenty minutes. What are you doing out here?’
‘Sorting out some cover for the new crew. Mum, be careful or you’ll get your dress dirty.’
‘If I do it’ll be thanks to you. We need to leave!’
‘I’m ready now. Gaby’s going to supervise the new crew while Len’s out of action.’
Anna’s eyebrows rose. ‘Her?’
‘Yes, Mum. Everything’s fine.’
‘Well, if you think Gaby’s up to it. No disrespect to you, of course,’ Anna said to Gaby, when she was clearly thinking something very cutting indeed. ‘But you are new and it is a huge responsibility.’
Gaby opened her mouth to try and get a shot into this game of Godrevy ping-pong, but Will batted his response back too fast.
‘Mum. It’s only for a day and Gaby knows exactly what she has to do. She’s been here six months and if there’s a crisis, I’ll have to bring the boat back, won’t I?’
Anna pursed her lips. ‘And wouldn’t you just love an excuse to do that?’
‘It’s fine. I promise you there won’t be a crisis.’ Gaby finally jumped into the rally. ‘So, you can all go and have a lovely time at the wedding. Don’t worry about anything. Enjoy your day,’ she said emphasising the word ‘day’, so Will knew he had to stay away.
‘Thanks a lot,’ said Will, his eyes gleaming with a mix of gratitude and exasperation.
Gaby grinned. ‘You’re welcome.’
‘Well, as there’s no one else, I suppose we’ve no choice,’ Anna muttered. ‘Now let’s get on our way before you change your mind. I know how much you’d love to find another reason to get out of this. Your aunt fully expects you to find some way of wriggling out of it as it is, so we’re going to show them, they’re wrong.’
Anna stumbled. Will caught her arm and stopped her from slipping into the mud.
‘Be careful, Mum. Now, come on or we’ll be late for this damn wedding.’
‘I’ve been telling you that for the past hour!’ Anna shrugged off his arm and squelched off, holding up her hem and muttering about where Jess had got to now and hoping she’d have a lovely day as she deserved some fun after what that bloody postman had done to her.
Will turned to Gaby and mouthed ‘thanks’.
Gaby watched him trudge after his mum.
She was pleased to be given the chance to show she could look after everyone despite the moths stirring in her stomach. All she had to do was show the rookie team how to harvest the crop and get it done by the time Will got back. That would show Len and Anna. Most of all, it would give her something to focus on, on a day that held such bittersweet memories.
Gaby was glad the four new pickers couldn’t see her churning stomach as they gathered outside the packing shed. They’d only arrived the previous day and most bore the same expression that she must have had on her first day: a rabbit in the headlights. They shuffled around, dressed in a jumble sale mix of hats, jumpers and gloves.
There was a slight look of the chain gang about them, Gaby thought, stifling a giggle. By now, they would have realised that, until tomorrow at least, there was no way off the island even if they’d wanted to leg it. Pickers were often native Scillonians but today there was only one local who was new to picking. The other two were from the mainland UK and one was Polish. Natalia was about Gaby’s age and from a small town outside Krakow. She’d worked in various market gardens in East Anglia over the past couple of years and looked slightly less terrified than the others. She also knew Cambridge a little, which had broken the ice between them when they had been briefly introduced the previous evening.
Gaby straightened herself up to her full five feet one and a half and threw them all a confident smile.
‘OK. You’ve