hair and grin back at him, wishing I looked more alluring.
‘Is this for real or are you dressing up?’
It’s Bernice’s brother from Saturday, AKA the best man from the week before. In my shop for the third week in a row. And yet again I’m looking far from at my best. He’s already seen me with the most disgusting hangover, but hot, pink and sweaty in my skanky old trainers isn’t really much better.
‘Why? Does it look fake or something? I thought you girls loved a man in uniform…’ He pretends to look miffed.
I gape. ‘You mean you really are?’
‘Yep. Alex.’ He holds out a hand.
I take it, liking the feel of it holding mine. ‘Frankie…But I expect you know that, don’t you, if you’re really a policeman. You know, with access to all sorts of secret information…’
He looks mildly amused. ‘I didn’t, actually.’
‘ Anyway, you’re lucky you caught me – I’ve just come back from my run.’ I drop it in casually, just in case he thinks I always go around looking like this.
‘ Cool. How far d’you go?’
‘Not far. I’ve only just started. I’m planning to run a marathon.’ And though it’s only a half marathon, he doesn’t need to know that.
‘Wow.’ He looks impressed. ‘I did one once. It was tougher than I thought, but yeah, it was good. Good discipline. Not sure I could do it again, though…’
This man is getting more and more interesting, but much as I’d like it to be, I’m guessing this isn’t a social call.
‘I hope I haven’t committed an offence, officer?’ I flirtatiously bat my eyelashes at him. ‘Or is there a reason for this visit?’
He nods. ‘ Actually, can I come inside? Only it’s about those flowers of yours - the ones that were murdered.’
As w e go in, he points to this assembly of deadness at the back by the sink, still immersed in its herbicide.
‘Is that one of the vases?’
I nod.
‘Can I take it with me? I’ll bring it back , obviously…’
Now, I quite like the sound of that , especially if he gives me sufficient warning, so that for once I can make sure I’m looking presentable. Then he rummages in his pocket and brings out a folded up photo.
‘Is this the bloke you think did it?’
My eyes nearly pop out of my head at the sight of that mean, weasley face that’s caused me such trouble. ‘That’s him! Wow! How did you find out?’
‘His name is Tim Smith-Whitbread. He’s a stuck-up little arse, off the record. Likes his own way. Used to go out with Bernie and was none too pleased when she dropped him for James, who I might add, is twice the man he’ll ever be…’
Ohhh… A light’s pinged on in my brain. I’m starting to get the picture.
‘ …And he didn’t like the idea of her getting married to someone else, so he decided to sabotage the flowers...’
‘Oh , he did more than that,’ says Alex. ‘He cancelled the wedding cars and called the venue and told them the wedding was off. They were about to book it out to someone else, only by chance, he was discovered. So this is valuable evidence. Thanks.’
‘Oh… That’s fine.’ But my brain is all over the place because it isn’t fine at all. ‘D’you know, he’s cost me a load of money. Hundreds, actually.’
‘Hopefully you’ll get it back. Actually , unofficially again, I’m sure you will – I think my mother’s coming to see you about it. She’s awfully embarrassed about the whole thing.’
‘ But it’s hardly her fault. I shouldn’t have been so … trusting. It’s just, it’s not every day you find a vengeful ex in a flower shop. How was the wedding, by the way?’
‘ Oh – it was a good one, really good. My little sister looked gorgeous – as did the flowers. She was very pleased with them. The sun shone and nobody behaved too dreadfully, so all in all, a success. I’m sure my mother will give you the
‘Is this for real or are you dressing up?’
It’s Bernice’s brother from Saturday, AKA the best man from the week before. In my shop for the third week in a row. And yet again I’m looking far from at my best. He’s already seen me with the most disgusting hangover, but hot, pink and sweaty in my skanky old trainers isn’t really much better.
‘Why? Does it look fake or something? I thought you girls loved a man in uniform…’ He pretends to look miffed.
I gape. ‘You mean you really are?’
‘Yep. Alex.’ He holds out a hand.
I take it, liking the feel of it holding mine. ‘Frankie…But I expect you know that, don’t you, if you’re really a policeman. You know, with access to all sorts of secret information…’
He looks mildly amused. ‘I didn’t, actually.’
‘ Anyway, you’re lucky you caught me – I’ve just come back from my run.’ I drop it in casually, just in case he thinks I always go around looking like this.
‘ Cool. How far d’you go?’
‘Not far. I’ve only just started. I’m planning to run a marathon.’ And though it’s only a half marathon, he doesn’t need to know that.
‘Wow.’ He looks impressed. ‘I did one once. It was tougher than I thought, but yeah, it was good. Good discipline. Not sure I could do it again, though…’
This man is getting more and more interesting, but much as I’d like it to be, I’m guessing this isn’t a social call.
‘I hope I haven’t committed an offence, officer?’ I flirtatiously bat my eyelashes at him. ‘Or is there a reason for this visit?’
He nods. ‘ Actually, can I come inside? Only it’s about those flowers of yours - the ones that were murdered.’
As w e go in, he points to this assembly of deadness at the back by the sink, still immersed in its herbicide.
‘Is that one of the vases?’
I nod.
‘Can I take it with me? I’ll bring it back , obviously…’
Now, I quite like the sound of that , especially if he gives me sufficient warning, so that for once I can make sure I’m looking presentable. Then he rummages in his pocket and brings out a folded up photo.
‘Is this the bloke you think did it?’
My eyes nearly pop out of my head at the sight of that mean, weasley face that’s caused me such trouble. ‘That’s him! Wow! How did you find out?’
‘His name is Tim Smith-Whitbread. He’s a stuck-up little arse, off the record. Likes his own way. Used to go out with Bernie and was none too pleased when she dropped him for James, who I might add, is twice the man he’ll ever be…’
Ohhh… A light’s pinged on in my brain. I’m starting to get the picture.
‘ …And he didn’t like the idea of her getting married to someone else, so he decided to sabotage the flowers...’
‘Oh , he did more than that,’ says Alex. ‘He cancelled the wedding cars and called the venue and told them the wedding was off. They were about to book it out to someone else, only by chance, he was discovered. So this is valuable evidence. Thanks.’
‘Oh… That’s fine.’ But my brain is all over the place because it isn’t fine at all. ‘D’you know, he’s cost me a load of money. Hundreds, actually.’
‘Hopefully you’ll get it back. Actually , unofficially again, I’m sure you will – I think my mother’s coming to see you about it. She’s awfully embarrassed about the whole thing.’
‘ But it’s hardly her fault. I shouldn’t have been so … trusting. It’s just, it’s not every day you find a vengeful ex in a flower shop. How was the wedding, by the way?’
‘ Oh – it was a good one, really good. My little sister looked gorgeous – as did the flowers. She was very pleased with them. The sun shone and nobody behaved too dreadfully, so all in all, a success. I’m sure my mother will give you the
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