‘You’re really going to do it, aren’t you?’ Jenna Cassidy-Pearce’s best friend, Faith, hissed to her in an altogether too loud whisper, as they added the finishing touches to the balloons in the shop window display. Something Fragrant was written in fancy italics across the window, the paint barely dry.

Jenna grinned, stilling the rumblings of excited panic low in her gut. After weeks of extra-long days, planning, working her backside off and little sleep, in time minus ten minutes, the shop would be opening for the first time. It was happening! Finally happening!

Holy moly. She was a business woman. An entrepreneur. The owner of a not insubstantial bank loan.

In essence, she was a grown-up.

Bloody hell.

About time, really, given she’d been married and a mother for long enough.

Jenna turned and surveyed the fruits of her hard work; pristine white shelving housed flowers of every colour and variety, glass vases for sale, some midrange-priced pretty necklaces and a rack of notecards for all occasions. Ribbons. Price cards neatly written. An OPEN sign. Her heart began a crazy little dance. This was hers. All hers. There was a giddy rush in her gut. ‘I’m finally going to do what, Faith? Open a flower shop on Portobello Road? Yes. Fulfil a lifelong dream? Hell, yes.’

‘You know damn well I’m not talking about that.’ Faith looked round at the overflowing vases and inhaled deeply. ‘Although I have to admit it is gorgeous. And perfectly you. But are you sure you really want to—’

‘Embark on another diet? Sure. Big tick there. Run the nursery 5k fun run? Absolutely. Once I’ve mastered walking my first kilometre, it’ll be easy. No sweat. Note I said kilometre there, because that’s not as far as a mile. I couldn’t walk a whole one of them.’ Okay, so she was dodging the issue here. Jenna knew exactly what Faith was talking about, but she didn’t want the words to be said out loud, given that her sister was due any time and might overhear.

‘Running? Now you’re just being silly, Jen. Honestly. That’s just too far-fetched, even for you.’ Faith glared at Jenna in an I know you know what I mean way. ‘I’m talking about…’ Pulling the invitation out of her bag, she thrust it at Jenna while, thankfully, lowering her voice. ‘Marrying your sister off? In four weeks’ time? Four weeks, are you insane?’

‘Put it away before she sees it! You make it sound as if she’s a desperate Jane Austen spinster and I’ve sold her to secure the family inheritance.’ Truth be told, Jenna wasn’t exactly sure she was doing the right thing. Organising a wedding for someone who didn’t want to get married? Yeah. But someone had to do it, given the bride was being very reluctant about being… a bride. ‘But… hmmm. Yes.’

‘Even though she thinks stepping foot on an aisle is very bad luck? Even though she’s perfectly happy being un-married to Vaughn?’ Faith shook her head; she had a tease and just a smidgen of irritation in those cool blue eyes of hers.

Jenna checked and double-checked that Chloe wasn’t about to walk into the shop, or was somehow miraculously standing right behind them, scowling in disbelief.

She wasn’t.

Coast clear. But it wouldn’t be for long; she was due for the florist’s shop official opening any minute. In fact, she was late, which was unlike her usually punctual sister. ‘You know, I think she does want to be married. It’s the getting married that’s the problem. She’s frightened Vaughn will ditch her at the last moment just like Jason did. So, I’m going to save her the worry and organise it all myself and not even tell her—or him—until the very last moment. That way, neither of them will have a chance to jilt. Is that even a word?’

Over in the corner, three tall white vases needed repositioning. She went over and rearranged them, fluffing the long-stemmed calla lilies and white gladioli, stood back and admired her handiwork all over again.

Pinch me. This is real.

Faith, bless her, had taken the afternoon off work from the pub next door and was rearranging the notecards in the stand. ‘It’s a big risk, Jenna. Doesn’t every bride want to organise their own wedding?’

‘Not Chloe. Once bitten, and all that….’

‘Well then, you’ll need to be careful of the flowers. You know what she’s like with bouquets. Make sure you don’t put anything prickly or hard in there that could be used as a lethal weapon.’

Remembering Chloe’s first attempt at getting married, and the last-minute jilting by the fiancé, Jenna shuddered. ‘Hitting the best man with her wedding posy was a one-off. I don’t think she’ll do it again.’

‘Still a risk as far as I’m concerned. Won’t she have her own ideas of the perfect unique thing just for the two of them?’

‘She organises weddings for a living. There isn’t anything unique any more, trust me.’

‘And don’t you have to give notice at the registry office? How can you even do that if you’re not them?’

So many questions to spoil her lovely day. ‘I’ve done it.’ Jenna had felt like a proper spy when she’d trundled along with Chloe and Vaughn’s paperwork and signed the forms. Luckily the office lady had been distracted by a rogue bumble bee buzzing around threatening an allergic reaction, so she hadn’t paid much attention to who Jenna was. ‘I borrowed their passports for an hour, just after they moved in together and everything in the flat was in chaos. They didn’t even notice. Easy-peasy. Chloe will be happy with—oh.’ There she was. Standing in front of them, beaming but frowning at the same time, as only Chloe could. Damn it and blast that doorbell needed fixing. Jenna added that to her to-do list. ‘Hi, Chlo.’

Chloe put her huge overflowing tote down on the counter. ‘I’ll be happy with what?’

Jenna did some quick thinking. ‘Oh, er, with the office space you’ve got out the back. Something Borrowed finally has its own premises! Exciting!’

‘Yes. Very. With Vaughn moving in until the renovations are finished on our new flat, we don’t have room to run two businesses. Plus, he gets me all flustered and I can’t concentrate on work when he’s around.’ The frown fell away at the mention of her boyfriend, and Jenna gave Faith a knowing smile. Chloe was as besotted with Vaughn as he was with her. Things were moving quickly; they’d already bought a place together and were—despite her mother’s misgivings—living together. Surely a mortgage said ’til death do us part as much as a wedding ceremony ever did?

Giving them a push in the right direction was the right thing to do. Jenna would just make sure she stayed well clear of the bouquet.

‘You look lovely, Jen.’ Chloe gave Jenna’s hand a squeeze and then ran her hand over the short sleeve of the cream and floral tea dress their mum had made for her for this auspicious occasion. And if she did say so herself, Jenna thought she looked okay. Well, acceptable anyway. Plus, she’d put a bit of make-up on and shoved her usually unmanageable red hair into a messy topknot. Chloe gave the topknot a little straighten.

Jen smiled at her sister and downplayed her nerves. ‘Thank you. I’ll take that as an apology for being late.’

‘Ah, yes. Sorry. Vaughn will be along in a minute with the food. We got… er… held up.’ The glint in Chloe’s eyes suggested the delay had been conjugal rather than cooking-related.

So much happiness in her sister these days. It was so lovely to see. Jenna wouldn’t describe herself as jealous, not at all, but she did miss that glow you got when you loved someone and they loved you back. But being happy for her sister didn’t mean she needed to hear all about her sex life. ‘Ugh. I don’t want to know.’

‘No? Okay, well, spotlight back on you then. Dressed-up for anyone in particular?’

‘No. And stop changing the subject.’ Jenna’s heart did a little dive. Because, as she was pinning her hair up earlier, she’d thought first of Oliver and how proud he’d have been of her and the shop and little Evie, if he hadn’t gone and died on them. Then she’d thought of Nick Welsh who’d just demobbed from the army and made her heart jitter a little—but who she couldn’t possibly have a… thing with. Because of Oliver. Because of Evie. Because she was a mum and had to look after her child’s interests now as well as her own. Because, when it came down to it, Jenna didn’t want to have her heart smashed all over again. ‘Obviously, I want to look my best for the official opening. I’ve invited that reporter… Marnie Fitzpatrick to do a piece on us.’

Chloe’s frown returned, her lovely warm brown eyes turning darker. ‘I think she’s done enough already. Two bits in the local paper in the last few months, both covering my love life, are enough for me, thanks.’

‘Well, I like her. She has spirit and a good sense of humour. Plus, I need all the help I can to get this business off the ground, and I’m not afraid to sell myself to the lowest bidder—only bidder, actually.’

‘And there was me thinking you’d gone all glam for Nick.’

Jenna’s treacherous heart did a flip at the actual out-loud mention of his name. She’d helped him move into his flat and had the strangest of feelings when she was there. Weird things, like how looking into his eyes made her tummy tumble. How looking at his body made her suddenly hot and bothered. And she’d realised all that was making her jittery, so she’d backed off right away. ‘I didn’t invite him.’

‘I thought you said he was nice.’ This was Faith butting in now. Honestly, did they have nothing else to talk about other than her singular, but perfectly satisfactory, relationship status? ‘What did you do? What did you say, Jen?’

‘Nothing. Much.’ That was the issue. Ever since Chloe had set Jenna and Nick up on a date a few weeks ago, Jenna had been a bit rude to put him off, and it seemed to be working, because he hadn’t texted her for a while.

Which was putting a duller shine on the shop opening, to be honest. She wanted him here, but she didn’t want him here. How did that even work?

Aargh… men.

Chloe gave Jenna’s shoulder a squeeze. ‘You know, you could ask him out for a coffee or something.’

‘No. I couldn’t—’ The door opened again and in ran Evie, swiftly followed by Jenna’s mum, Bridget, looking slightly frazzled but bearing up. She was almost smiling, which was a revelation all of its own. Saved by the non-working bell. ‘Hey there, sweetie. Have fun at the play park?’

Evie put her little chubby fist to her abdomen and pouted. ‘Sore tummy.’

‘Oh, ouchy. Poor you, sweetie.’ Jenna looked from her daughter to her mother for further information.

Bridget shrugged. ‘I think she ate too much. I was after buying her an ice cream. She ate half of it, then dropped the cone on the ground. She caused such a commotion, you’d think I’d thrown it on the ground. In the end, I bought her another, which she gobbled up in between sobs. I think she swallowed a lot of air too.’

Great. Time minus five minutes and the last thing she needed was a vomiting emergency. Luckily, Evie was easily distracted, even when she was pale and clammy. ‘I’m sure it’ll get better, honey. Two ice creams, eh? Well wow, Nana really spoiled you today.’ Jenna bent down and picked her daughter up, rubbing the little one’s tummy as she did so. ‘How about we go into Aunty Chloe’s office and you can sit quietly for a while?’ She heaved Evie through to the back room and sat her on the new swivel chair at the desk. Then she ran and tugged a long piece of white paper from the huge roll at the counter and draped it over the laptop and office furniture.

Chloe watched from the door. ‘What are you doing? You’ve got to be out here. I’m popping the corks on the champagne soon. You have to be here for that.’

‘I’m making sure every where’s puke proof. Evie’s got a sore tummy, so I just want her to sit quietly.’

Chloe made a sympathetic face. ‘Yikes. Poor Evie. But please, please do not be poorly over my brand-new desk, lovely Evie.’

‘I won’t, Aunty Ccooee.’

‘Or the new shop, honey.’ Jenna did a quick eye sweep of the eco-friendly bamboo floorboards. ‘This floor cost a fortune.’

‘No, Mamma.’ She did look a bit pale. Jenna felt her daughter’s forehead. No temperature. Surely it was just the ice cream. Sitting quietly should settle her down. Tummy things. Ugh. So not what Jenna had envisioned what being a grown-up was all about. Back in the day, she’d imagined herself having a popular online lifestyle blog, being a YouTube sensation with thousands of followers. Millions. Having her clothes sponsored by top designers and a seven-figure book deal. Not worrying about the insides of a three-year-old making their way outside of said three-year-old. ‘How about you draw Mamma some pictures?’

‘Of the naughty ice cream?’

‘Yes, honey. Draw me a picture of the ice cream and the park and Nana.’ Ruffling Evie’s hair, her heart did a little squeeze. Yes, it was hard work, yes it meant she’d had to adjust her dreams a lot, but she wouldn’t change her daughter for anything. Evie was, pure and simple, her world.

There was a rush of air as the front door opened and Vaughn’s voice floated to them. ‘High tea for the flower girls! Where are you all? Hiding out back?’

‘In here!’ As Chloe turned towards Vaughn, her face flushed and her eyes sparkled with affection and unadulterated lust. With a little ache in her heart, Jenna remembered what that felt like, that first flush of love. She also remembered how it felt walking up an aisle and saying those precious promises to the one person who held her heart so tightly—and how it felt to watch his casket lower into the earth. Death us do part wasn’t supposed to happen after three bloody years.

No. Never again. Love was wonderful and marvellous and everything, but not when it was ripped away. No chance. Not again. So there was diddlysquat point having the little bumps of yearning. Never gonna happen.

Leaving them to make gooey eyes at each other, she wandered through to the shop and started opening the stacked boxes of cupcakes Vaughn had left on the counter. The first box contained tiny cakes with intricate iced pink flowers. The second box had lavender ones. The third, red roses. Boxes and boxes of cakes, slices, patisseries. The man was a walking, baking miracle. She arranged them on the tiers of five beautiful, flowery cake stands she’d found in second-hand shops around Portobello and Notting Hill. ‘Wow. These are amazing.’

‘Like him.’ Chloe swung past in a blur, grabbing a cake as she went by. ‘Stop pretending to gag, Jenna. I can’t help it if I’m happy. Come on! It’s nearly three o’clock! There’s that reporter outside with a camera. Let’s get the ribbon ready, and the scissors? Where are the scissors?’

Jenna looked at the grinning faces of those she knew she could rely on; her mum, her sister, Faith, Vaughn and Evie. But there was no one else here. No passers-by pulled in by the gargantuan sign in the window announcing the grand opening. No one from the neighbouring shops. No Nick, which wasn’t surprising, seeing as she hadn’t sent him an invitation, but still… ‘Not much of a turn out. There’s no one here.’

Chloe put both hands on Jenna’s shoulders and leaned close to her ear. ‘Darling, look closely. There are heaps of people outside. It’s market day. There’ll be loads of interest, especially if we cause a ruckus out there.’ She tugged her closer, whispering, ‘By no one you actually mean Nick, right?’

‘No.’ Jenna ignored the annoying bump of yearning at his name, pretending it was first-day nerves. ‘I just want to sell everything on my first day. At least, sell something.’

‘You will. Right. Let’s go full-on official. Grab that bunch of sunflowers; we can give them to people passing by and then invite them in for tea and cake.’

‘Oh, okay. Good idea. Come on, Evie,’ Jenna called through to the office. ‘Mum, Faith. Let’s get this shop opened.’ On a deep inhale, she took Chloe’s outstretched hand and went outside. This was actually happening. Grown-up-dom. Right here on Portobello Road.

She looked up the road, towards the antique shops and Notting Hill Gate. The scurry of tourists click-click-clicking with their phones. Then she looked the other way, towards the hippie shops, the cinema, the groovy hairdressers and the street stalls, at the pub regulars spilling onto the streets, the buskers. She loved this place, the feel of community in a vibrant corner of the best city in the world. She’d always felt she belonged here; now she owned a little bit of its history too. Her own shop.

Chloe secured the length of shiny, silver ribbon across the threshold of the door. ‘Okay. I’ll give a speech.’

‘Ugh,’ Bridget groaned. ‘Do you have to?’

Chloe’s eyes rolled. ‘Someone has to, and it’s either you or me, Mam. This is a big deal for Jenna. What do you think? You want to have a go?’

Their mother’s eyes widened. Her nerves had been better recently, but anything could send her reeling. ‘No, you go, our Chloe. You’ve got the gift of the gab, good and proper. But keep it short.’ Then she mumbled something, which sounded a lot like, if you know how.

Ignoring the barb, Chloe cleared her throat. ‘Okay, well, gather round, don’t be shy. Come over! Yes, take a flower. They’re free. Free sunflowers! Free cake and bubbles coming right up after my little… er, speech. Okay. This has been Jenna’s—’

‘Hang on! Stop! Wait for me!’ There was a shuffle as four people clutching sunflowers were pushed apart, and Mrs Singh appeared between them. Over her scarlet bejewelled sari, she was still wearing the checked work apron she always wore at the Singh Sari Store. ‘Don’t ever open a shop, Jenna. People actually want to buy things and it’s very inconvenient. What did I miss?’

Jenna smiled. Where would they be without Portobello’s High Mistress of Intrigue and Gossip? ‘Don’t worry, we’re just starting, Anjini. And we all know you love it. If you didn’t have customers, you wouldn’t get the gossip.’

‘I love Tuesdays.’ Anjini nodded, turning to a man next to her with a small dog that was sniffing the leg of the lady next to him. ‘My day off.’

‘Right.’ Chloe cleared her throat. ‘Are we all ready? Great. So, this has always been Jenna’s dream. Her own business. Her own shop, which we know is going to be a massive success because she’s lovely, and so are her flowers. She can do any arrangement to order; weddings, funerals, general I love you flowers. Or forgive me, or thank you, whatever you want to say. Whatever you need. Please, tell your friends and neighbours, work colleagues, random strangers in the street—’

‘People you meet on Timber.’ Bridget’s eyes twinkled with mirth. Poor Chloe, one foray into app dating and her mother would never let her live it down. Okay, well two forays, two very unsuccessful forays.

‘Thanks, Mum. Not.’ Chloe stared daggers at Bridget then found a smile for the tiny crowd. ‘Just tell everyone you know about Something Fragrant, which we now declare…’ Chloe thrust the scissors towards Jenna.

This was it! The beginning of the next chapter. A new start. Jenna called over to her daughter, who was currently tangled up in Faith’s legs, ‘Evie. Come here, help Mamma to open our shop.’

‘Our sop. Flower sop.’ Still pale, Evie nodded seriously and toddled out of Faith’s grip.

Jenna’s heart swelled as she put her hands over her daughter’s to hold the scissor handles. Things were starting to get better for them. They’d moved on. There was a future, right here, in her arms and in these four walls. Even though he never knew he had a daughter, never met her, Oliver would be so damned proud. Hell, she was proud. She’d survived the death of the only man she would ever truly love, and she’d singlehandedly wrestled her daughter into a lovely, happy, curious girl. And now, now she was creating a stable future for them both. She dropped a kiss on Evie’s still clammy head and made sure to smile towards Marnie Fitzpatrick, from the Portobello Local newspaper, who had a camera lens glued to her eye. ‘Okay, ready?’

They took aim at the ribbon and snipped. Um. Okay. Snipped being another word for hacked… sawed…. ‘Wait a minute. It just won’t…. Hang on, Evie…. Let Mamma…. Put your hands on top of mine so I don’t hurt you.’ With her daughter’s fingers over the back of her hands, Jenna pressed down hard, jamming the fabric into the jaws of the scissors… and… voila! ‘Officially Open!’

Finally. Thank God Nick hadn’t been here to witness her fumbling around. He’d think she was utterly incompetent.

Her stomach jolted. Nick. Nick. Nick. Everything seemed to revolve around his name today, which was bloody inconvenient.

Because, even though her shop was now officially open, her heart certainly wasn’t.