Never Can Say Goodbye by Christina Jones

She’d rarely had flowers from anyone. And these were stunning.
     And Dexter had made a special effort to get them for her – even though merely hours before he’d been out with Lilly, and presumably
     previous to that, with the pretty blonde in the camel coat. ‘Honestly – thank you.’
    ‘You’re welcome. You deserve them. And I brought this too. I didn’t know if you’d arranged any sort of refreshments.’
    Frankie blinked at the magnum of Krug. ‘Blimey – no. I thought food was a bit of a no-no in case it got on the frocks, so
     I only got some cheap fizz and orange juice, nothing as fabulous as this. It’s very generous of you.’
    Dexter grinned. ‘No problem. You can give the fizz to thebrowsers and the real stuff to the buyers. Or, better still, keep it for friends when today’s over. I’ll put it in the fridge,
     shall I? Oh, and have you got a vase in the kitchen? I thought the flowers’d look nice on the counter. Yet another splash
     of colour.’ He gazed round the shop. ‘This is truly incredible. Amazing. You’ve worked so hard.’
    ‘Thanks.’ Frankie tried not to stare too obviously at Dexter to see if he showed any traces of being out clubbing until the
     small hours. He looked, she thought, stunningly sexy, annoyingly bright-eyed and wide awake, and definitely not debauched
     in any way. ‘And yes, Rita had some vases under the sink. I think they’re still there.’
    He took the flowers and champagne and disappeared into the kitchen.
    Frankie watched him go, and sighed. He was lovely. But then, Joseph had been too, hadn’t he? At least until the awful ending.
     And after Joseph she’d sworn there’d never be anyone else. And anyway, she’d already decided Dexter was clearly the worse
     kind of heartbreaking womaniser, wasn’t he? Dexter was, she decided, best avoided in any sort of
silly
way at all.
    Eight twenty. Still no sign of Lilly or the others. Maybe she should throw caution to the winds – or rather the icy clammy
     fog – and fasten the door back to welcome in the hordes of eager shoppers.
    No, maybe that would rocket the heating bills sky-high and bankrupt her before she’d even started trading. She’d just have
     to hope that people would notice the windows and the lights and have seen the posters and the flyers and be curious enough
     to push the door open and step inside.
    Once inside, Frankie was sure, no one would be able to resist.
    ‘There you go.’ Dexter plonked the huge vase of flowers on the edge of the counter. ‘They look really nice there, don’t they?
     Mind you –’ he stroked the petals ‘– I haven’t got a clue what they are. Obviously haven’t got that far in my
I-Spy Flowers
book. I’m quite good on holly and mistletoe now though, and I know what a winter begonia is too.’
    ‘Congratulations.’ Frankie laughed. ‘It sounds like you’ve made a good start. Um, and did you have a good time last night?’
     She groaned. She honestly hadn’t meant to say anything.
    ‘Last night? With my home deliveries?’
    ‘No, well, yes – I meant after that really.’
    ‘Oh, you mean at that Rinky-Dink place? Yeah, great thanks. It was a bit of an eye-opener. I didn’t realise it was a drag
     venue until we got there. I spent most of the night trying to work out who was who.’
    The pungent hothouse perfume from the flowers was happily mingling with the sweet meadow scent from the diffusers. Michael
     Bublé was poignantly telling everyone he wanted to go home.
    ‘Lilly often goes there.’ Frankie wiped away imaginary dust from the counter and didn’t look at Dexter. ‘She loves it.’
    ‘So she said. She’s a funny girl – great company.’ Dexter nodded. ‘It was good to get out of the lonely bedsit and see a bit
     of local nightlife, to be honest.’
    ‘Mmm.’ Frankie looked for even more grime on the spotless counter. ‘It must have been. Did you meet YaYa Bordello? She’s a
     good friend of ours and the Rinky-Dink is one of