Page 18 of Flowers Go Flying in Crumbleton
Jo’s eyes lit up. ‘Thanks, Milly!’
‘And not a word to anyone about cursed bouquets, or unconscious best men… or poisoned horses!’ she said with a frown. ‘Got it?’
‘Fine!’ said Jo, letting out a long sigh. ‘It’d be great publicity, though.’
‘Not the kind I’m looking for!’ said Milly, shaking her head. ‘It’s bad enough Caroline’s going to cover the whole thing in the paper.’
‘She is?!’ said Jo. ‘Do you think she’ll mention my name?’
‘Why would she?’ said Milly.
‘I did do the flowers,’ said Jo.
‘You tied a couple of buttonholes!’ chuckled Milly, deciding not to mention the fact that she’d had to re-do both of them because they’d come undone. Jo still had a lot to learn.
‘I delivered them, though,’ said Jo. ‘I should at least get an honourable mention!’
‘Coffee – pronto!’ laughed Milly, ushering Jo towards the door.
Milly let out a sigh of relief as Jo shot her a broad smile and then disappeared. She didn’t really want a coffee, but it was worth it just to buy herself a couple of minutes’ peace and quiet.
She’d love nothing more than to forget all about the wedding and get on with her week - but first, she needed to check that Hercules was definitely going to be okay after his run-in with the bouquet. If only she could do the same thing when it came to Murray!
Milly frowned. Maybe she could visit him in hospital? There was just one problem with that – she didn’t know which ward he was on. Would they even let her see him, anyway? Besides, he might already be home for all she knew.
Urgh – this was going to drive her insane!
‘Caroline!’ breathed Milly. She’d call Caroline. If anyone knew what was going on, it’d be her friend. If she was careful, she could make it sound like she was just calling about the newspaper article…
CHAPTER 8
MURRAY
It ended up being a bit of a tricky trip back home across the salt marshes, and Murray didn’t think he’d ever been so grateful to reach the old trawler.
The flooding from the heavy rains they’d endured for weeks on end had finally started to recede, and the water levels had dropped significantly since Saturday. It meant he’d had to stick to the deeper channels, steering the boat carefully to prevent himself from getting stuck.
If he was being honest, it would probably have been easier to walk home – taking to the narrow, hidden pathways that criss-crossed the wetland. You had to know the marshes like the back of your hand to be able to follow them without taking a wrong turn and ending up knee-deep in the brackish, muddy water. As Marsh Ranger, he knew the paths better than anyone - but frankly, he didn’t have the energy for a long walk. Rowing home had been hard enough.
The minute he climbed on board, leaving the boat tied up below, Murray started to unbutton his shirt. He couldn’t wait to jump in the shower.
Letting himself inside, Murray blew out a long sigh of relief. He couldn’t wait to wash the lingering scent of the hospital out of his hair. Then he’d climb back into his usual uniform of tatty shorts and a soft, slouchy tee shirt. He’d had enough suit-wearing to last him a lifetime.
Peering around his home, Murray felt the tension start to drain from his shoulders, and his headache eased off a couple of notches. The place always had this effect on him – it was why he loved living out here so much. The trawler might look a bit rough from the outside, but inside it was a cosy oasis - complimented by all the mod cons. The waterfall shower he’d installed was at the top of his list of favourites right now – closely followed by the coffee machine.
By this point, he’d stripped right down to his boxers. He was so intent on heading straight for the bathroom for the longest soak of his life that he’d dropped a trail of clothing behind him – he’d pick it up later! He was just about to grab a towel from the cupboard when his Sat Phone caught his eye.
‘Damn!’ he muttered, glowering at the flashing red light that signalled a bunch of new messages.
For a second, Murray contemplated ignoring them until he’d had the chance to shower. After all, no one knew he was home – so it wasn’t like there was any rush.
But… what if they were important?
It wasn’t in his nature to ignore a job once he knew it needed his attention. The thought of that little red light demanding his attention the minute he finished would just ruin his longed-for shower.
Murray strode over to the desk and punched the button – keen to get it over with.
‘Murray mate, it’s Philip!’ The bridegroom’s voice boomed around the cabin.
