‘Conor, lad!’ Charlie Dillon shouted, catching sight of the tall Irishman making his way into Passion Flowers. ‘How’re you doing?’
‘I’m doing just grand, thanks.’
‘Glad to hear it. Right, Conor, I’ve something to ask you. My son Billy could do with some help down at the ferry crossing, if you’re still looking for a job?’
‘Really? That’s such good timing, I was literally just going over to Crowsbridge to the Jobcentre.’
‘Ah, so we got to you in time then. Billy’s twin brother Daz, he’s being soft, says he’s ill so is not working today. Right, so nip down asap, Conor, and Billy will show you the ropes. Him and Joe will be so grateful, I’m sure.’
‘Thanks a million, Charlie.’ Not daring to confess he had suffered from seasickness in the past, Conor pushed open the glass door to Passion Flowers to be greeted by a smiling Kara, watering can in hand.
‘Everything OK?’ she asked.
‘Yeah, yeah, the flat is more than comfortable, thank you. And Charlie Dillon tells me your Billy could do with some help on the ferry.’
‘That’s right. Billy was going to call you about it today; we didn’t realise you were looking for work, sorry. Both Star and Frank have been on our case.’
‘There was you thinking I was on a happy Hartmouth holiday. Now that would be nice.’ He coughed. ‘By the way, how is the blonde bombshell? I popped in to see her at her place yesterday and she called through from the back saying she was busy. I hope I haven’t upset her.’
‘Family stuff, not you. Give her a couple of days.’
At that moment, Skye appeared from the back of the florist’s with a face like thunder carrying a large display of brightly coloured autumnal flowers. ‘I’m just taking these down to the hairdressers,’ she said curtly.
‘Perfect. And well done, they look fantastic,’ Kara praised her.
The young girl managed a smile as Conor held the door open for her.
‘Teenagers!’ Kara carried on topping up some of the metal buckets of flowers with water.
‘Yeah. I shall have one of those soon myself,’ Conor told her.
‘You have children? That’s nice.’
‘Just the one son, Niall. He’s back in Ireland. He’s almost twelve going on eighteen himself, so he is.’
‘Aw,’ Kara said, and when Conor just stood there looking awkwardly at her she asked, ‘Did you want anything else whilst you’re here?’
‘Yes, please. Can you tell me if there are any flowers that Star really likes? And um … I don’t want to pressure her, so maybe you could drop them in to her and just say that Conor says hi.’
‘Hi – is that it?’ Kara raised her eyebrows.
‘That’s pretty weak, isn’t it?’ Conor acknowledged.
Kara nodded. ‘How about “Let me know whenever you fancy that drink”? I mean, if I received flowers with that message, I’d find it hard to say no.’
‘Nothing to do with my Irish charm then?’ Conor teased. ‘Well, if only I’d known that all it would take to make a woman happy was a bouquet of flowers, I’d never have been single.’ Much more cheerfully, he scribbled some words on the back of the Passion Flowers gift card and made his way towards the door to leave.
‘Um, Conor,’ Kara called after him, sounding embarrassed. ‘I’d love to give them away, but …’
The big man turned around. ‘Jesus! What am I like, eh? So full of finding work, that’s me today.’ He reached for his wallet and pulled out a debit card. ‘It’s because I didn’t have them in my hand.’
Kara’s face remained expressionless as his debit card was refused. She felt relieved when he spoke first.
‘It’s been declined, has it?’ Conor felt himself reddening. ‘Shit, I haven’t got any cash on me either.’
‘It’s OK. Go and see Billy and get some work booked in. You can owe me for these.’
‘Are you sure? I can get them another day, when I have the cash, it’s fine. How embarrassing.’
‘I’m one hundred per cent sure. Catch up soon, Conor.’
As Kara watched the handsome stranger walk out of the door, she tried not to judge him. He was Big Frank’s nephew after all, another lovable rogue. And most people had hit on hard times in their lives before. He was just going through one of those. But why did she feel suddenly uneasy? Was Conor an example of ‘there’s no such thing as an ugly face, just an ugly person’? He certainly could talk the talk, but could he walk the walk? And it was her friend’s very fragile heart at stake here.
Wrapping the assorted coloured dahlias in some blue tissue paper, she tied a big white bow around them and, popping in his note, hoped for so many reasons that her gut feeling was wrong on this one.