But what caught my attention, naturally, was Maid Marian’s Garlands. The entire stall was covered with greenery, ivy twisting around the legs and up a stunning arched canopy. There were garlands, as advertised, but mostly bouquets, buttonholes, hair accessories and centrepieces. I assumed the gaggle of women browsing were planning a wedding.
I couldn’t resist running my fingers over the soft leaf of a lilac bush, one of several miniature trees and shrubs arranged artfully around the stall.
‘Can I help you?’ one of the two stallholders asked, probably noticing the wistful look on my face. The growing queue of customers prevented me from replying with any one of several questions springing unbidden from my memories.
‘No, sorry, I’m not looking to buy anything today. I’m just blown away by your designs. I trained as a bridal florist a few years ago, and I’ve never seen anything like these.’
‘Oh, thanks.’ The woman flushed. She looked about forty and was wearing a ‘Maid Marian’s Garlands’ apron embroidered with hundreds of flowers, corduroy trousers and a fleece, her dark-brown hair tied in a loose plait. ‘We only started the stall a few months ago, but it’s really picking up. As you can see.’
She stopped to quickly take a paper slip from a new customer, exchanging it for a box that she opened to confirm it was the correct hairpiece.
‘The instructions for keeping it fresh are all in the box. I hope it goes amazingly tomorrow! Send us some pics, won’t you?’ She waved off a very happy bride-to-be.
‘That’s a great idea,’ I said to Agnes. ‘Selling fresh flower hair accessories that they can pick up the day before.’
‘Too great!’ the stallholder replied. ‘We can’t keep up with demand. A couple of venues have started using us to dress gazebos for their Sherwood Forest themed weddings, and it’s more work than we can handle.’
‘Well,’ Agnes said, a smile hiding in the wrinkles around her mouth. ‘If you’re looking for another pair of hands…’ She tilted her head in my direction.
I froze, unable to speak.
The woman helped pin a wreath to someone’s head, showing how it looked in a mirror, then turned back to me. ‘Are you serious? We’ve had an advert out for a couple of weeks but no one with any relevant training has contacted us.’
‘I never actually completed my apprenticeship…’ I stammered, not quite sure why I didn’t simply explain that I now ran a successful business, and move on.
‘Can I ask why not?’
‘My parents died suddenly… I had to…’
‘Oh, my goodness, I’m so sorry.’ The stallholder, to my shock, instead of looking uncomfortable or changing the subject, grabbed both my hands in hers. ‘I lost my mine at eighteen. A house fire.’
‘That’s terrible.’
‘Yes. Thank goodness for grandparents.’ She nodded and smiled at Agnes.
‘Oh, no. Agnes is a friend… I didn’t have any grandparents.’
The woman’s face dropped.
‘It’s fine, honestly. It was a good while ago now.’
‘Irrelevant. You never stop missing your mum and dad.’ She clutched my hands tighter, pressing them against her apron. She smelled of rosemary and fresh lavender, and I could have breathed that scent in for hours.
‘Listen, if you’re interested in some work, let me know. I’ll have to speak to Karen, but, like I said, we’ve been looking for extra help and it would be far easier to have someone who knows their way around a rosebush.’
I swallowed hard. I did know my way around a rosebush.
‘Thanks. I actually have quite a lot on over the next few weeks, but after that… I’ll let you know.’
She handed me a card, gave my fingers one last squeeze and went to help someone asking about centrepieces.
‘That was a little bit pushy, Agnes,’ I chided as we strolled back to where I’d parked Gideon’s car.
Agnes tilted her chin in the air. ‘I thought you might be looking for a change. One that meanslesschange all the time. And less wallowing in people’s tragic pasts.’
I wanted to explain that working with flowers would inevitably mean wallowing in my own tragic past. But I’d stood at that stall, roses lined up in the buckets and bouquets in front of me, and I’d almost been able to appreciate how beautiful they were.
Would I want a job working with roses again?
