The Forget-Me-Not Flower Shop: The feel-good romantic comedy to read in 2018

Scott tried for a response, but his brain refused to process the information.

‘Uncle Scott? It’s great news, right?’ Ben’s expression remained elated as he searched Scott’s face, looking for affirmation of his big announcement.

But Scott was far from thrilled. This wasn’t good news. This was a catastrophe. He looked at Billie, hoping his mum shared his reaction. She gave nothing away. Her face was its usual relaxed state, even though there appeared to be tears in her eyes. Good tears or bad, he couldn’t tell.

Ben tried again to force a response from his mute uncle. ‘You’re pleased, aren’t you?’

Scott wasn’t sure what he was, but he was pretty certain ‘pleased’ didn’t describe it. His instinct was to grab the kid and shout that it was a ridiculous idea, but he knew reacting in such a way would only strengthen the kid’s defences. He opted for a more muted response. ‘Surprise would better describe it. I had no idea this was on the cards.’

‘I’ve wanted to marry Amy from the moment we met.’ Ben’s face glowed with adoration.

‘You met at primary school.’ Scott tried not to sound patronising.

Ben bristled. ‘That’s when I knew. It was love at first sight. She’s the only girl for me. The person I want to spend the rest of my life with. She feels the same way.’

Scott chose his next words carefully. ‘I’m sure she does, but how you feel now might not be how you feel in five or ten years’ time.’

Ben looked disappointed. ‘I thought you of all people would understand.’

Nice dig. ‘Why, because I got engaged at a young age?’

Ben didn’t respond.

Scott tried again. ‘That only serves to prove my point. I was smitten, just as you are, sure of what I wanted. But look how things turned out.’ He tried not to look at his mum. He suspected she knew why Nicole had ended things, but he hoped not. Maybe it was wishful thinking on his part, but he didn’t want to lay more guilt onto everything else she had to deal with.

Ben looked defiant. ‘That won’t happen to us.’

Just what he’d said when his mates had commented on his decision to get engaged at twenty-five. ‘How can you be so sure?’

‘Because I’m an optimist. I believe in love. I believe in Amy. We’re good together. We have the same ideals, the same outlook. This is the real deal.’

Christ, the kid was even more of a hopeless romantic than he’d been. ‘I’m not for a moment saying it’s not. But if this is true love, then what’s the rush? Why not wait until you’re a few years older, just to be certain?’

Ben moved away. ‘Because we don’t want to. We have everything planned out.’ He settled next to Billie, allying himself with someone less averse to his announcement. Or at least someone less able to challenge his decision.

Scott’s mind raced for something to say, an objection that would hit home. Even though he’d taken over Ben’s care responsibilities, he’d never felt equipped to fulfil the fatherly role. He was only eleven years older than Ben, so their relationship was more along the lines of brotherly love. ‘What about film school? I thought you were set on becoming a director?’

Ben shrugged. ‘This doesn’t change that. We’re both going to take a gap year so we can travel and then go to uni next year.’

The kid had an answer for everything. It shouldn’t be Scott dealing with this, it should be Lisa, or Billie. Anyone but him. He wasn’t up to it. But thanks to bad fortune, neither was Billie, her communication skills reduced to one-word slurs. He glanced at her, hoping to see the same concern in her eyes as he had, but she was smiling, patting Ben’s hand with her good arm. Thanks, Mum. Really helpful.

Scott only had one card left to play. ‘Have you spoken to your mum about this?’

Ben’s expression hardened. ‘No, I haven’t spoken to Lisa and I don’t intend to. This has nothing to do with her.’

His nephew’s response wasn’t a shock, even if it was disappointing. ‘She’s your mum. Of course this affects her.’

Ben laughed. ‘Yeah, right. I haven’t seen the woman for two years. Our relationship has reduced to Christmas and birthday cards. We can stop pretending Lisa cares about me, because she doesn’t.’ He held onto his nan’s hand. ‘She doesn’t care about anyone other than herself.’

Scott wanted to dispute that fact, but how could he? When it came to applied and interdisciplinary mathematics, his sister cared deeply. Her whole existence was devoted to developing a highly successful career. But when it came to parenting her ‘mistake’, as she referred to it, she was as lacking in as many skills as Scott was in completing benefit forms.

Trouble was, it wasn’t entirely Lisa’s fault. At sixteen she hadn’t been equipped to care for a baby. Scott’s mum had taken over the main responsibilities and sent Lisa off to school, encouraging her studies, not wanting her daughter to be held back by having a kid so young.

Consequently, as Ben and Billie’s bond grew stronger, Lisa was pushed to the sidelines. When Ben cried it was Billie who comforted him. When he fell over it was his nan he wanted to nurse him better. Unintentionally, Lisa was relegated to the position of spectator in her son’s life. By the time Ben reached eleven the wedge between them was cemented. A job opportunity abroad offered Lisa the career she’d always wanted and an escape from the constant disappointment of not being the most important person in her son’s life.

Scott tried again. ‘I’m not going to defend your mum’s decision not to visit more. I agree it’s lousy. But there’s no question she loves you.’

Ben shook his head. ‘Love is not buggering off to Bangalore and leaving behind your eleven-year-old kid.’ He stood up. ‘Apart from Amy, the only people’s opinions I care about are in this room. You’re my family, you and Nanny. As long as you’re behind me then I don’t care about what anyone else thinks.’ He walked over to Scott. ‘I can tell Nan’s okay with it. That just leaves you. Are you going to support me, Uncle Scott? Or abandon me like Lisa did?’

Scott flinched. It was a low blow, an unfair ultimatum, but Scott knew if he didn’t side with Ben it would be irreversible. ‘Abandoning you is something I would never do. And if you don’t know that by now then I’m sorry for not making it clearer.’

Ben’s challenging gaze softened.

Scott knew he was losing ground. ‘Would I prefer it if you waited until you were older? Yes. Would I be happier if you finished uni and fulfilled your dream to be a director before taking on the challenges of a family? Definitely. But if you’re determined to do this, then of course I’ll support you. We both will.’ He looked at his mum. She nodded her consent.

Ben threw himself at Scott. ‘Thank you.’

Scott kept eye contact with his mum, trying to read her expression. She nodded slowly, as if to say, ‘You’re doing the right thing.’ He wasn’t so sure.

Ben’s joyful exuberance was quickly restored. Within minutes he’d downloaded Slumdog Millionaire onto the TV and was curled up next to Billie, making her laugh with his off-key rendition of ‘Jai Ho’.

Leaving them to it, Scott went into the kitchen. He was no longer in the mood for tackling the PIP form, not after Ben’s bombshell. He finished his beer and went into his bedroom to phone Lisa. It felt like a betrayal, but Ben’s mother needed to know her son was planning to marry.

The estrangement between mother and son might not totally be down to his sister, but Lisa compounded the problem by not coming home more often. Countless times, Scott had pointed out that their relationship couldn’t improve with her living so far away, but his sister was convinced Ben was better off without her ‘interference’, as she called it. Whatever her reasoning, it didn’t justify her refusal to permanently settle in the UK after their mum’s stroke. That had been pure selfishness. Lisa had been offered a promotion, head of the new maths programme at the university, and she’d felt she couldn’t pass it up.

So here they were, another family drama, another request for his sister to step up and be a parent. How would she react this time? Would she be pleased? Angry? Indifferent? Would she offer to pay for the wedding? Suggest contacting Amy’s parents to discuss arrangements? Judging by Amy’s complaints about her father being too overbearing and strict, Scott couldn’t imagine news of his little girl’s upcoming nuptials would go down too well.

Scott needed an ally, someone to play bad cop to his good. And Lisa was the perfect bad cop. He wasn’t sure what the time was in India, but her voicemail kicked in. He was forced to leave a message asking her to call him back urgently.

There was no way he was dealing with this alone.

CHAPTER ELEVEN (#ulink_01435328-6cf3-5d2a-a5ed-a0ccdff63ce2)

Thursday, 6 March (#ulink_01435328-6cf3-5d2a-a5ed-a0ccdff63ce2)

Evie was slightly regretting her choice of footwear. Three-inch mules designed to look like an exotic cocktail might be a fun way to evoke cheerfulness, but when it came to walking any distance they were proving lethal. The plastic heels were shaped to look like ice-cubes, whilst the polka-dot enclosed front was decorated with a pineapple slice and topped with a bright red cherry. It was like trying to balance on stilts. But as it was all part of her master plan to re-engage with her playful side, she ignored the perils of a potentially broken ankle and continued to unload flowers onto the driveway of Sunning Lodge.

The home of the Bitars was a grand dwelling in the pricey part of town. Being booked to arrange flowers for their family party was a big coup. Spending over five hundred quid for half a day’s work was a drop in the ocean for the Bitars, but for Evie this was an account that could make all the difference. She was going all out, even if she was a little daunted by her surroundings.

As she’d pulled up in the van, she was greeted by manned security gates, uniformed guards with walkie-talkies, more CCTV cameras than Heathrow and Gatwick put together, and four very large Dobermans. Thankfully the dogs were on harnesses. They sniffed around the van, their owners viewing Evie with heightened suspicion as she carried a tray of oriental lilies up to the ornate entrance. Overriding her instinct to cower away from the dogs’ snarling growls, she lifted her chin. She was not going to be intimidated.

The front door was opened by an attractive woman wearing a turquoise satin tunic and trousers, combining traditional Indian style with western designer chic. Like the opulent house and vast expanse of landscape surrounding her, Mrs Bitar reeked of money and class. Evie questioned her choice of footwear even more.

She was greeted with a warm smile. ‘Welcome to our home. Please do come in.’ Rose-gold jewellery sparkled from the woman’s wrists as she ushered Evie inside. ‘Are you the lady I spoke to on the telephone?’

‘I am, yes.’ Evie tried to free up a hand, but the tray was too heavy. ‘Evie Armstrong. I’m the manager of The Forget-Me-Not Flower Shop. It’s very nice to meet you.’

Mrs Bitar beamed. ‘The pleasure is all mine. My name is Farah.’