Chapter Nine

I spent the next two days in a trance of indecision, thrown by Mrs Finch's offer of a job at her agency. She told me to take some time to think about it, and I had been doing little else.

I was still thinking about it in the back room at work when Grandfather's head popped round the door.

As much as I loved the shop, this room and the garden on to which it backed was where my heart lived. I might have convinced everyone, including myself, that adding our own small garden was to the advantage of the business – it even had the benefit of being true – but had it not made us a penny I would have pushed for it anyway.

Selfishly, I had carved out this tiny green space for myself. A place I could have my fingers in the dirt. A place where I loved to tip my face towards the sunshine, basking in it as much as any flower, and where even the grey London rain became something vital and life-giving.

"Are those the early rose cuttings?" Grandfather asked, interested. I stood at the potting table, carefully labelling the tiny cuttings I had planted, ready to be placed in the greenhouse. At my back, the doors to the garden stood open, spilling the pale light of spring across the stone floor. A gentle breeze ruffled my hair, lifting the heavy curls away from my neck. I wiped my hands on the apron I wore over my dress.

"Yes, I have high hopes for these beauties," I said. "But next week we can begin the cross-pollination on the new hybrids." I felt a tingle at this. Twenty years earlier, a gardener called Henry Bennett had found a way to create new breeds of roses by meticulously transferring pollen from one flower to another, producing seeds that combined aspects of both blooms.

It was only possible thanks to the constant warmth of the greenhouse, and it was an exciting undertaking – an experiment with unpredictable results: whether the seeds would thrive in the first instance, and then which features would be taken from each of the flowers involved. I found it fascinating.

"Well," Grandfather said, "as I've said to you before, Mari, don't run away with yourself, investing too much time or effort into it. I'll admit it's interesting work – but we'll never be able to grow on the scale of the nurserymen, so there is not much point in distracting ourselves from the running of the shop."

His words were like being doused in cold water.

"I won't disturb you," he continued. "I just wanted to let you know that I had a strange visit from Geoffrey Earnshaw this morning."

I stilled. "Mr Earnshaw?" I murmured. "What did he want?"

"He wanted to assure me that the change in circumstances between you and that good-for-nothing son of his…" Here Grandfather sniffed. He had been less than impressed by Simon breaking off the engagement, and I had only barely managed to talk him out of challenging Simon to fisticuffs. As a young man, Grandfather had apparently trained with Gentleman Jackson himself, although he became hazy if pushed for details on his illustrious fighting career.

"That disgraceful young turnip," Grandfather continued with a growl.

"What exactly did Mr Earnshaw say?" I prompted gently, my heart hammering.

"Oh, yes." The anger cleared from Grandfather's face, replaced with a puzzled frown. "He said that he didn't want us to be worrying about the rent. That as a gesture of goodwill he was even going to reduce it."

"Reduce it?" I managed, stunned.

"Least he can do in the circumstances. I have to admit I didn't think old Geoffrey Earnshaw had that sort of decency in him. And that's not all…"

"No?" I said weakly.

"He's offered us a twenty-year lease with the rate set, all legal-like. Now what do you make of that?" Grandfather tucked his fingers into his waistcoat pockets and rocked back on his heels.

"Twenty years!" I exclaimed. "But that's … wonderful. An incredible offer. Even better than we'd have got if—"

"Better than if you'd married the turnip," Grandfather finished succinctly. "And I tell you, Mari, I'll be thanking my lucky stars you avoided that fate for the rest of my days, I truly will."

"Well," I said mechanically, still trying to digest the news. "He didn't…" I hesitated. "Mr Earnshaw didn't make any kind of demands?"

"Not a thing," Grandfather said. "Man was pale as a ghost, begging my forgiveness, practically crawling. Don't know what came over him."

I did. I felt a shiver tingle up and down my spine, a wide smile growing across my face. The Aviary had triumphed.

Part of me (quite a big part, I had to admit) had doubted it. As much as I wanted to believe what Izzy and Mrs Finch had told me, the whole thing had just seemed so … far-fetched. And yet here we were; the Aviary had clearly found something Mr Earnshaw didn't want found and applied pressure to fix my problem. It had worked – exactly as they had told me it would.

I felt dizzy. The relief, as it finally seeped in, was enormous.

"Mari?" Suzy appeared in the doorway. "Can you come out here? There's a delivery for you."

"That's fine, Suzy – you can sign for it," I said.

"That's just it. Someone gave it to Scout to deliver to you. They said it had to go to you directly." Suzy's voice was uncertain.

"They gave it to Scout?" I asked. I had been pleased when the girl had turned up promptly the morning after our encounter with Scullen and accepted the job at Bloom's. So far she had proved a hard worker, and it was a relief to see more colour in her cheeks and that haunted, hungry look easing from her eyes. "What is it?"

"Well, it's curious..." Suzy gave a bewildered chuckle. "It's flowers."

"Flowers?" I blinked.

"Why would someone send you flowers?" asked Grandfather.

"I suppose we'll find out." I quickly untied the back of my apron, slipping it off and hanging it up before following them out to the front of the shop. It was quiet, with no customers currently browsing – only Scout, standing in the middle of the shop, clutching an enormous bouquet of flowers.

"What on earth…?" I moved closer, reaching out with my fingers to touch the petals of a tiny starry white flower.

"Edelweiss?" Grandfather bent closer. "Where has someone got hold of that in March?"

"It's a very … unusual bouquet," Suzy said diplomatically.

She was not wrong. It was a curious thing, full of greenery and flowers that didn't quite go together. Not unless you spoke their language anyway. I lingered for a moment, cataloguing the contents in my mind:

Laurel. Laurus. Meaning: victory, success.

Edelweiss. Leontopodium. Meaning: courage and daring.

Clematis. Clematis. Meaning: ingenuity and cleverness.

Fern. Adiantum. Meaning: secrecy.

And finally: Dahlia. Dahlia. Meaning: commitment.

A laugh escaped my lips at the message. The Aviary were celebrating a job well done, and now they wanted to know if I had considered their job offer.

"Weighs a bloomin' ton," Scout huffed, and I rushed forward to take it from her, but she pulled back out of my reach. "No, no." She shook her head. "She said first I have to ask if you'll take it with your right hand or your left."

Grandfather frowned. "Who said so, Scout?"

Scout's eyes darted to mine. "Lady from the other night. She gave me a shilling to bring these to you, but she said I have to go back and tell her if you took it with your left hand or your right." She rolled her eyes at this and muttered something under her breath about toffs and their strange ways.

"What lady is this, Mari?" Grandfather looked increasingly baffled.

"Just a friend," I replied. "It's a little joke of ours."

But it wasn't really. It was a proposal and, in the language of flowers, taking the flower in your right hand meant yes, and your left hand meant no. I appreciated the attention to detail.

I also appreciated what the Aviary had done for me and my family. I thought about that overwhelming rush of relief I had felt only minutes ago. I could help someone else feel that way.

Beyond that, something else stirred too. The same feeling I'd had in the garden, a feeling of space to grow and truly be. It was adventure, the promise of more.

"Thank you, Scout," I said, finally taking the bouquet from her. I felt the smile spreading across my face. "You can tell the lady I took it with my right hand."