Simon bought the loveliest bouquet of flowers and set off for his date. In high spirits, he waited by the fountain, flowers in hand. But Jessica was nowhere to be seen. He looked around and dialled her number. No answer. She might just be running late, he thought, and rang once more. This time, Jessica picked up. Im here, where are you? Simon asked straight away. Its over between us! she suddenly replied. What? Why? Simon was completely stunned. Its because of your bouquet! Jessica shot back, taking him by surprise. Whats wrong with it? Simon was bewildered, not understanding.
He really had spent ages wandering around the florists. Burgundy roses, yellow tulips, white lilies, pots and vases filled with all sorts, bouquets beautifully crafted and arranged for every taste. Yet, Simon just stood there indecisively.
He vaguely remembered a chat with Jessica about flowers, but couldnt for the life of him recall the details.
Shed definitely said there were some she didnt like at all, and others she absolutely adored and could look at all day.
But shed talked so much back on that first meetingSimon had been swept up by the excitement of getting to know someone new, the bubbles of his glass of prosecco, and Jessica herself.
Normally, Simon was chatty, but that evening hed just nodded along, mesmerised by Jessicas elegant hair, the graceful curve of her neck, and those dimples on her creamy cheeks. Was this what love felt like?
But honestlydid it really matter which flowers shed talked about? The evening had been wonderful!
Now though, try as he might, Simon just couldnt remember Jessicas preferences.
Look at these gerberas! the shop assistant said. You wont find a better bunch. Out of season, special variety.
He was beginning to panic: he needed to make a choice.
As if on cue, just as he was about to make his mind up, his phone rangit was his mum, whod been calling rather too often lately.
Well, Simon? Have you decided? Its Fridayyou could come for the weekend?
No, Mum, Ive got things on
Your gran is waiting for you, watching the door, asking when youll come.
Sorry, Mum, really, Im up to my eyes right now
He quickly said goodbye.
His mum wanted him to go back home to the village, where she lived with his grandmother.
Shed called several times already and Simons patience was wearing thin.
What about Gran? Shed been ill a long time Poor old soul. Still, he couldnt just drop everything and move in, could he? He had his own life!
And there were important thingsaffairs of the heart!
What if the date went well today? Maybe tomorrow hed ask Jessica to join him for a day out in the country.
Simon already had somewhere in minda charming little spot just outside Oxford, at the old estate-turned-holiday park.
And besides, his mum had been gently hinting she wanted Simon to get on with settling downso this was his chance.
If only he could just remember which flowers Jessica liked! What a hopeless memory!
But truth be told, Simon didnt really want to keep track of all these little female things. Did it matter that much?
The shop assistant had given up suggesting things and now just watched his dithering quietly.
Im sure Jessica mentioned something about rose thorns Better not go for roses! Simon decided in the end.
So he bought a bouquet of large pink and white gerberas. After all, a bouquets just a gesture. He had to get back to worklunch was nearly over.
Theyd agreed to meet by the new city fountain. Simon was running latethe boss had called an unexpected meeting. There were murmurs of a possible promotion.
He called Jessica to say hed be late and then switched his phone to silent. While in the meeting, his mum rang again, but Simon really couldnt answer.
Afterwards, he raced across town to the date, parking near the fountain, almost running, flowers in hand.
Jessica was nowhere in sight. Simon looked up and down the square, tried her numberno answer.
He sat on a bench. Maybe she was also running late.
He realised he still hadnt called his mum back, but hesitatedwhat if Jessica phoned just then? But the call didnt come. After ten more minutes, he rang her again himself.
This time, Jessica answered.
Jessica, where are you? Ive been waiting for you.
I know. Im in the café opposite, second floor, Ive been watching you for ages.
Really? Simon squinted up at the buildings windows, but couldnt spot her. I cant see you. Will you come down? Or shall I?
Youre late, she cut him off.
Yes, Jessica, sorry about that. I did ring youthe boss kept me late, nothing I could do.
And the flowers!
What about the flowers? Simon genuinely didnt understand.
You dont even remember which flowers I love!
Jessica, honestly, the shop just didnt have them!
Roses? You forgot that I love roses? They have them everywhere! Ive told you so many times, roses are my favourite But you
Ill make it up to you Ill come up, find you now.
Simon entered the café and found Jessica at the back, sitting by the window with her back to the room.
He approached quietly, not daring to hand over the bouquet now, so he set it gently on the table. Jessica didnt even look up.
Simon had always been able to talk his way out of trouble, so with all the charm he could muster, he tried to make amends.
It seemed to work. Jessica started to smile again.
They had coffee, then left togetherJessica still didnt look at the bouquet.
Youve left your flowers behind, called a cheerful young waitress, hurrying after them.
Theyre for you! Simon replied with a grin.
Oh thank you, the girl looked surprised, but clearly pleased.
Jessicas face clouded over once more.
Jessica, let me buy you the biggest bunch of roses in London!
Thank you, she replied through clenched teeth, but thats quite enough flowers for today!
They walked down the stairs, Simon trailing after his wounded girlfriend. And there it was againhis mum calling.
Sorrytimings awful again?
Jessica didnt hear.
No, Mum, perfect timing actually. Ill come. Tomorrow, I promise.
That evening, Simon and Jessica parted with little ceremony. He felt sure it was the last time; it was clear there wouldnt be another chance.
The next morning found him driving across fields hed known since boyhood.
All around, wildflowers stretched to the horizonalive and vibrant, dancing in the English breeze.
Simon stopped the car and waded into that sea of colour, picking flowers with the attentive care of a florist.
This time, he knew: the people he was bringing them to would be delighted. He wouldnt get it wrong here.
He split the bouquet in two upon reaching the house.
His mother beamed, showering him with kisses. As for Gran, she was helped to sit up, her hands trembling as she took the flowers, feeling over them with soft fingersher sight wasnt what it once was.
No one had brought her flowers in ages!
She buried her face in the bouquet, breathing in the wild scents of youthmemories long buried, suddenly blooming again and filling her heart.
Not just recollections, but living feelingsthe promise of new joys, so present and real.
Life was good. Life would go on, through her grandson.
Simon sat beside Gran, resting his head on her knee, while she gently stroked his hair, mindful not to squash the flowers she clutched so tenderly.
As he lay there, Simon thought to himself: one day, Ill meet my girlone as wonderful as these two women. Well love each other, the way my grandparents did, the way my parents love. You just have to spot it in time.
Gran wouldnt let the flowers go for ages.
Wait get some water first draw it from the well take that wide vase be careful put them here so I can look at them
Her grandson had brought her flowers.
Wildflowers you can find everywherebut these these were special. These were from her grandson.
