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

There was a loud bang from the kitchen.

Apparently not.

Saffy might only be nineteen, but she was way beyond her years in terms of life experience. Her dad had walked out when she was ten years old and her mum had bounced from one relationship to another looking for the happy ever after, never quite finding it. Determined not to follow in her mother’s footsteps, Saffy was currently holding down three part-time jobs. Her goal was to attend university and ensure financial self-sufficiency. No way was she going to rely on a man to support her. Evie felt tolerating Saffy’s moody persona was the least she could do. And besides, underneath the surly sarcasm was a complex, vulnerable girl. Others might be wary of her angsty exterior, but Evie wasn’t. The goth clothing, long black hair and dramatic eye make-up was a mask, a way of keeping people at arm’s length. Evie understood this more than most.

Saffy appeared from the kitchen, her tattooed hands clasping a Minnie the Minx coffee mug. She leant against the wall, one booted foot crossed over the other, a scowl set firmly in place.

‘Sorry it’s so cold. The boiler’s playing up again.’ Evie rubbed her hands together, trying to restore blood flow. ‘I’ll get someone in as soon as possible.’

Saffy shrugged. ‘No drama. I’d rather be here than at home watching Mum swoon over Barry the Banker.’

Suffice to say, Saffy wasn’t the biggest fan of her mum’s latest beau.

‘How are the wedding plans coming along?’ Evie asked.

A scowl darkened Saffy’s brow. ‘Don’t know. Don’t care.’ She sipped her coffee. ‘It’s not like it’ll last. Did I tell you he’s twelve years younger than she is?’

Evie nodded. ‘Sometimes an age gap can be a good thing. You never know, maybe this time it’ll work.’

Saffy snorted. ‘Don’t hold your breath.’

When the doorbell chimed, Evie looked up to see a nervous-looking young man enter the shop. He hesitated before coming inside. First-timer. You could always tell. Evie gave him a reassuring smile. ‘Can I help you?’

He shoved his hands inside his pockets. ‘I wanna get my girlfriend flowers.’

Evie smiled. Who said romance was dead? ‘Do you know what she likes?’

His face creased into a frown. ‘Er … No.’

Evie headed over. ‘Roses are always well received.’ She gestured to the array of blooms covering the floor space. ‘As you can see, we have a variety of colours. The mauve Admiral Rodneys are my favourites, but they’re all delightful.’

He glanced around before nodding at one of the buckets. ‘Those red ones?’

Evie smiled. ‘Gorgeous, aren’t they? They’re called Deep Secret.’

Saffy tutted and muttered ‘Typical’ under her breath.

Evie shot her a glare.

He pointed to the pink floribunda instead, glancing at Saffy to gauge her approval. Her non-committal shrug seemed to appease him.

‘Sexy Rexy.’ Evie picked up the bucket. ‘Excellent choice. I’m sure your girlfriend will love them. Would you like them wrapped?’

His face coloured, matching the intensity of the rose petals. ‘No … thanks.’ He dug out a crumple of notes from his pocket. ‘How much?’

‘Twelve pounds for six stems. Twenty-two pounds for two bunches.’

He shoved fifteen quid at her as though they’d just partaken in an illegal drug transaction and grabbed the flowers. ‘Keep the change.’

‘I hope your girlfriend likes them,’ Evie called after him as he exited the shop.

Saffy sniffed. ‘Cliché, or what?’

Evie turned to her assistant. ‘May I remind you, I’m trying to run a business? Could you be a little more …’

Saffy raised an eyebrow. ‘What? Insincere?’

‘Encouraging. It takes a lot of nerve to buy flowers.’

Saffy looked perplexed. ‘Why? They’re only flowers.’

‘Maybe, but they carry meaning. That shouldn’t be taken lightly.’

‘Men are only after one thing. Once they’ve got it, they’re gone. Flowers or no flowers.’

Evie sighed and handed Saffy a bucket of golden Belle Epoque. ‘Cut the stems, please, they need a drink.’

Saffy took the bucket over to the sink. ‘I know the feeling.’

Evie tried to remember how it felt to be nineteen. She was only twenty-eight herself, but being a teenager felt like a lifetime ago. Unlike Saffy, she’d been a ‘believer’ at that age, unaware of the pitfalls of love. Her parents might have divorced when she was young, but Evie had entered adulthood relatively unscathed. Poor Saffy had experienced nothing but disappointment her entire life. Her views on relationships were based on watching her mum rely on shady men with empty bank accounts. But maybe Saffy was the lucky one. If Evie had been a little more streetwise she might have seen the signs earlier and not allowed the one serious relationship she’d had to deteriorate to such an extent that she’d lost all confidence and self-esteem.

The sound of the bell tinkling dragged her thoughts back to the present.

Standing in the doorway was another young guy, this one with the looks and confidence of someone who knew they’d won the lottery in terms of genetics, but had the good grace not to be arrogant.

Saffy dumped the half-cut flowers in the sink and went over to serve him.

‘Cool hat,’ he said, pointing to her knitted black beret.

Saffy shrugged, but the compliment seemed to thaw her a little. ‘How can I help you?’ She glanced over at Evie as if to say, ‘See? I can do polite.’ But her smile instantly faded when the bell chimed again and Josh from the local funeral firm came in to collect a pre-ordered wreath. Her sharp blue eyes stared at him with a mixture of venom and warning.

The poor guy had done nothing obviously wrong, as far as Evie knew, other than to show an interest in Saffy – something Saffy hadn’t taken kindly to.

‘Hey there, Saffy.’ As always, Josh remained completely unperturbed by her frosty demeanour. ‘Nice hat.’

‘That’s what I said,’ remarked Saffy’s customer.

Saffy looked between the two young men, her expression conflicted. She clearly wanted to be rude, as discussions about her appearance were never welcome, but she fought the urge and turned her attentions to her customer. ‘So, Dream Lover or Dusky Maiden?’ She gestured towards the buckets of red floribunda on the floor.

‘Which do you prefer?’ He examined both. ‘They’re for a special occasion. Big date. You’re a girl, which do you like?’

Evie caught Saffy’s eye, sending her a note of warning: Keep your opinions on love to yourself.

Saffy took a deep breath, seeming to steel herself. ‘Either would be perfect, in my opinion. Red roses are, after all, the symbol of love.’ Even though she managed to say this without any note of sarcasm, it didn’t stop Josh from laughing.

Ignoring Saffy’s glare, he headed out back with Evie to collect the large spray of white lilies ordered for a funeral later that day.

‘One day she’ll succumb to my charms,’ Josh said, handing Evie a purchase order.