Go Your Own Way

When it came to finding a man, Fran could do without her mother’s help!

MUM, stop it, or I won’t come and visit any more.” Fran looked away so she didn’t have to see the hurt in her stepmother’s eyes, but she’d had enough.

She had to make a stand or it would continue like this for the rest of her life.

“Don’t you like Benjamin?” Esther asked. “Is there something wrong with him?”

Fran looked out of the window at the perfectly nice guy wandering round the garden while her dad waxed lyrical about his veggie patch.

No, she thought, there’s nothing wrong with him. In fact, he was gorgeous, but that was beside the point.

He was doing a good job of pretending Dad’s compost heap was the most interesting thing on the planet, which couldn’t be easy.

“I invited him because he’s new around here and doesn’t know anyone.”

“Pull the other one, Mum,” Fran said, but she couldn’t help smiling.

The smile acted as a trigger.

“You do like him!” Esther cried and Fran groaned.

“He’s nice, but all the young men you invite round under one pretext or another are nice. I’m just not interested.”

“Just because you had one bad experience,” Esther muttered.

Fran was infuriated that Esther dismissed her failed marriage as “one bad experience”, as if it was little more than a brief, embarrassing hiccup.

“I’m going home, Mum,” Fran stated, the last traces of good humour vanishing as she reached for her coat.

“I’ll see you next week,” she continued, “but if the table is set for four I’ll walk straight out again.”

“Don’t go! What will I tell Benjamin?”

“Make something up,” Fran replied. “You’re good at that.”

Every week for the past month she’d arrived for Sunday lunch to find some bemused young man chatting to her father as if he wasn’t quite sure how he’d got there.

“Say goodbye to Dad for me.” Fran kissed her cheek, and dispensed with the usual hug, knowing she’d feel guilty about it all week.

****

Back home, Fran threw her coat over the back of a chair and tossed her car keys on the table.

It was just over two years since the divorce – time enough, Esther had decided, for Fran to get back “out there”.

Esther met a lot of people in her job at the estate agency, and she’d invited all sorts home.

Now it was Benjamin, who had just moved into town and was living in rented accommodation while he looked for somewhere to buy.

He was a junior doctor and sure to be going places.

One of these days Esther was going to invite a serial killer home, then she wouldn’t think she was so clever, Fran thought, and instantly felt angry with herself.

Esther was an excellent judge of character and had never fallen for a con in her life. She had also never had her heart broken.

She trusted herself implicitly, but Fran had a lifetime of mistakes behind her.

She wished she could be more like her stepmum, but she couldn’t. Not in a million years.

Sometimes she thought it would be easier if she had a sibling – someone to share her sense of failure.

Knowing her luck, any sibling would be like Esther and she’d have ended up with two people it would be impossible to live up to.

Esther had devoted her life to pushing Fran to be the best she could be, but it never felt good enough.

Failing at marriage had been the biggest let-down yet.

The next morning, Fran arrived at work to see a big Dutch lorry parked outside.

She quickened her pace. It was always exciting to get a new delivery of plants and flowers from the Netherlands, particularly when brought by her favourite driver.

All the drivers were nice, but Bram made Fran feel special.

She was realistic enough to know it was just his manner and he probably made all his customers feel like that.

“Here comes the cavalry,” Marsha, her boss, called out. “I’ll put the kettle on while you help Bram finish unloading.”

Fran’s heart skipped a beat.

If Esther were to invite Bram home for Sunday lunch, it might be a different story, but Fran knew Esther wouldn’t even consider a lorry driver as potential husband material.

She had her eye on a young professional for Fran, and one of the new executive homes by the river that she had on her books.

Bram looked round the back of the lorry and his face broke into a huge smile.

“Good morning, Fran,” he said, and something about the way he said her name made her stomach quiver. “Good morning, Bram.” He had such merry blue eyes. She’d never known him be anything but friendly and warm, even

when he’d had a rotten journey or a bad sea crossing.

Just the sight of him always lifted her spirits.

Fran looked in the back of the lorry and gasped.

“Have you already done your other deliveries?” she asked.

“This is my only one today,” he replied.

“You came all the way from Holland just for us?”

“You are my favourite customers. Marsha’s shop is a delight to supply.”

For the first time she saw sadness in his eyes as they began to move the pallets off the lorry.

“Fran, we may not be able to deliver weekly in future. Costs have risen and many of our customers are finding things difficult.

“We have agreed with most of them to do a monthly delivery. A few have cancelled and found new suppliers.”

“This is terrible news, Bram,” Marsha remarked as she came into the shop, having overheard their conversation.

“I will understand if you wish to make a regular order with another supplier, Marsha,” Bram said sadly.

“Absolutely not. We’ll have a monthly delivery if that’s what it takes, and I’ll top up with fresh-cut flowers elsewhere in between times.

“I’m so sorry, Bram. It must be a difficult time for you.”

“We will survive,” he replied with a shrug.

“Are you going straight back to Holland now?” Fran asked.

“The ferry doesn’t leave until tonight,” he replied. “I will be – how does the saying go? – kicking my ankles until it is time to go home.”

Fran laughed, but she didn’t correct him.

“There’s no need for you to kick your ankles.” Marsha smiled. “Fran here will show you round the town.”

“But –” Fran began. “Go on, I’ll manage here, and it’s ages since you had a day off,” Marsha interrupted. “Go and have fun for a change, Fran.”

Fran couldn’t imagine what fun there was to be had in their little town, but she couldn’t bear to think of poor Bram hanging around on his own in the cold, waiting for the night boat.

She took him to the railway museum and afterwards to the café next to the windmill.

“You are trying to make me feel at home.” Bram grinned.

“Sorry! A windmill isn’t a novelty to you, is it?” Fran blushed.

Esther would never make such a silly mistake.

“I love windmills, and I love coffee and cake,” he assured her. “Tell me, how is your dad’s garden?”

He knew Fran didn’t have a garden, but he often brought things over for her dad, from a new variety of bulbs to fancy rain daisies.

“It’s a bit bare at the moment,” she admitted. “But it’ll look a treat in spring.

“I bet you have a lovely garden.”

“I do,” he confirmed. She thought of her dad at home on his own. He’d had early retirement foisted upon him and was counting down the years till he could claim his pension.

He didn’t have to worry about money as Esther, with her persuasive, often pushy manner, was a very successful estate agent.

“Would you like to see my dad’s garden when we’ve finished here? I’m sure he’d be pleased to have company.”

“I would like that very much, Fran.”

His eyes were merry again as he looked at her.

The way her heart behaved around him was simply ridiculous.

She couldn’t possibly fall for someone who lived in a different country!

Anyway, he probably had some terrible flaw. She could never forget that she had been fooled by a handsome face and a charming manner before.

Besides, a man like Bram was bound to have a significant other.

Ray was out the front of his house tidying up the hedge when Fran pulled up outside.

He nearly dropped his clippers when he saw she was with a man.

“Don’t get excited, Dad.” She laughed. “Bram is a friend. I’ve told you about him.

“Bram, this is my dad, Ray.”

“It’s great to meet you at last,” Ray said, extending his hand and smiling warmly. “Thank you for all the freebies.

“Can you stay for lunch?” “I was hoping you’d say that, Dad.” Fran nodded.

“Come and see the garden first, Bram,” her dad suggested. “Or is that a bit of a busman’s holiday?”

Bram looked puzzled for a moment.

“I would love to see your garden.”

“I’ll make lunch while you do the garden tour,” Fran told them.

If she knew her dad, they’d be out there for ages.

She watched from the kitchen window as Ray took Bram round the garden.

He didn’t need to pretend to look interested – he really was – and the pair of them didn’t stop talking.

They came in to wash their hands, rosy-cheeked and full of smiles.

If she could only meet someone like Bram, she thought, life would be perfect.

“Bram was telling me how business isn’t so good at the moment,” Ray said as Fran put their lunch on the table.

“Your dad thinks he may be able to put some business our way,” Bram commented. “Isn’t that great?”

“You, Dad? How?” Fran asked, confused.

Ray flushed.

“Look, your mum doesn’t know about this, but I get bored stuck at home all day,” he confessed. “I’ve taken a little job.”

“A little job?”

Ray was silent for a while, eating the omelette Fran had made.

“I do a bit of gardening for people,” he said at last.

“It gets me out of the house. I do the occasional shift at the garden centre behind the scenes, too.

“Anyway, they’re looking to expand and need a reliable supplier,” Ray continued.

“Maybe we could drive out there after lunch and speak to them.”

Fran was still reeling. What on earth would

Esther would never make such a silly mistake

Esther think if she knew about Ray’s secret life?

Things had been a bit shaky between her parents since her dad retired. They seemed to be drifting apart and this would only make things worse.

“Dad, you must tell Esther. She’ll go mad when she finds out, and she will.

“This is a small town – someone is bound to tell her. She knows everyone,” Fran added.

“I’ll tell her when the time is right,” Ray said evasively.

“Tell me what when the time is right?” Esther said from the doorway.

They’d been so deep in conversation that they hadn’t heard her come in.

“What’s going on?” she added.

“What are you doing here?” Ray went pale.

“I live here!” She looked around the kitchen. “Is someone going to tell me what’s going on?” Bram stood up.

“You must be Esther,” he said politely. “I’m so pleased to meet you at last. Fran has told me so much about you.”

“She has? All good, I hope.”

What was happening? Esther looked as if she was going to melt on the spot.

All the indignation had gone from her face.

“Absolutely.” Bram smiled.

“Mum, this is Bram,” Fran

explained quickly.

“The Dutch lorry driver?” Esther asked. “You’re nothing like I imagined. Fran didn’t tell us you were . . .

“I mean, she didn’t say . . .” For the first time in her life, Esther was lost for words.

She’d assumed that Bram was a jolly old Dutchman and certainly not boyfriend material.

“The fact is, I’ve been doing some gardening work for people,” Ray burst out, seizing on his chance while Esther was struck dumb.

“I know you won’t like it, but I have to be busy and I love gardening,” he went on, “so that’s what I’m doing.”

Esther digested this for a moment.

“You’re a self-employed landscape gardener? Why on earth didn’t you say?

“I could recommend your services to clients that need help with a new garden!”

Ray was about to protest, but Fran could see he was going to take what she offered.

If she wanted to think he did more than mow lawns and trim hedges, then that was fine.

“Ray is very kindly going to introduce me to the people at the garden centre,” Bram put in.

“With a view to finding a new market for my company.”

Esther got that look on her face that Fran knew well.

“That’s very nice.” Esther nodded. “But realistically, they aren’t going to talk to a lorry driver about business, are they?”

“We shall see,” Bram replied, not looking in the slightest bit offended.

“I don’t think I am so lowly that people wouldn’t want to speak with me.”

“Oh, I didn’t mean it to sound like that!” Esther cried, clapping her hand over her mouth.

“I just don’t want you wasting your time.”

“Time spent among plants is never wasted,” Bram said.

“I’ll come, too,” Esther declared. “I haven’t been to the garden centre in ages and I don’t have to be back in the office until later.

Ray drove and Bram sat in the front where there was more room for his long legs.

They spent the whole trip talking about plants.

“I’m sorry about Sunday,” Esther said softly. “Your dad and I had words after you left. He was really angry with me.

“I don’t want to drive you away, Fran. I just want you to be happy. I’ll back off and I won’t invite anyone else round.”

“I know you mean well, Mum,” Fran replied, feeling relieved.

“It’s a good thing your dad and I never had children,” Esther went on. “I’m a terrible mum.” Fran stared at her. “What?”

“It’s just been one mistake after another. I’m so sorry, Fran.”

She looked as if she was going to cry.

“What mistakes? You’ve never made a mistake in your life. You’re a great mum!”

“I should never have let you wear your new shoes without socks that time.

“You had terrible blisters,” Esther began, starting to count on her fingers.

“I should have built up your confidence so you’d go to university.”

“As I remember, I refused to wear my socks and you were too much of a softie to make me!

“And why would you persuade me to go to university when I didn’t want to go?

“I’m so happy in my work and that’s what’s important, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” Esther allowed. “I love my job. I can’t imagine doing anything else.”

“All parents wish they’d done some things differently. No-one is perfect – except you.” “Me?” Esther frowned. “You are a successful and popular businesswoman,” Fran explained. “Beautiful and clever. Confident and outgoing.”

Esther snorted with laughter.

“I wish!” she exclaimed.

“Before I met your dad I had a string of failed relationships and I’d never found a job I was any good at.

“Then my life changed. I found love and got a job in an estate agent’s and finally my world tilted into place.”

Neither of them noticed that Ray and Bram had stopped talking.

“I just want you to be as happy as me and your dad,” Esther admitted.

“Was it Dad’s job that made you happy?” Fran asked. “Was it the lovely house?

“Would you have fallen in love with him if he’d worked in a shop like me and lived in a flat?”

“I didn’t know anything about him when I fell in love with him,” Esther admitted.

“He used to come in the café where I worked as a waitress for a mug of tea and a sandwich.

“Sometimes he brought his cute little girl in with him. So, yes, Fran, I would.”

Fran grasped her stepmother’s hands. She didn’t remember the café at all. She must have been very young.

In fact, she couldn’t remember a time when Esther wasn’t there for her.

“My happiness isn’t your responsibility. You support me when I need it and I know your door is always open.

“You were there for me when my marriage broke up, even though you must have been disappointed.”

“Disappointed?” Esther repeated. “I was relieved! I could see you weren’t happy and I’d never liked James.

“I was so angry with myself for letting you marry him in the first place.”

“You didn’t like him?” Fran was shocked.

“I pretended to for your sake,” Esther replied. “I should have been honest and told you how I felt.”

“Oh, it wouldn’t have made the slightest difference,” Fran assured Esther.

“I thought I was in love, and if we’d fallen out over my marriage then I might not have been able to talk to you when it all went wrong.”

Ray pulled into the garden centre and parked.

Once out of the car they stood for a moment in the car park, looking awkwardly at each other. Esther looked at Ray. “Lead on, Macduff,” she said, then linked her arm through his.

Fran sighed.

“I love them so much,” she said to Bram.

It was such a relief to see them close again.

They’d been drifting apart, but during that car journey something had changed.

“Parents, eh?” Bram replied. “It drives mine mad that I work for a nursery.

“They’re both lawyers, but I like getting my hands dirty and watching magnificent things grow from a tiny seed.”

“Come on, you two!” Esther called back, and Fran linked her arm through Bram’s as they followed.

It felt such a natural thing to do.

“I used to do the occasional local delivery, but one day we were short of drivers so I came over here,” Bram explained.

“And I met a girl who stole my heart,” he continued, “so I asked if I could come to the UK more often.”

Fran pulled her arm out of his and took a step away.

She hadn’t realised. What an idiot she was!

He took her hand and tucked it back through his arm.

“It was you, Fran,” he said. “Do you believe in love at first sight? I didn’t until I met you.”

All that heart-fluttering and skipping beats was nothing compared to the way it was thumping in her chest now.

“Yes, I do,” she replied. “I feel the same.”

And then, right there in the middle of the garden centre car park, he kissed her.

At last her world had tilted into place. ■