was likely to get a telling off for going into town by myself, but I needed the time outside and some alone time in general. I just wanted to take a stroll . . . or as much of a stroll as I could take while walking with the aid of crutches.
I had been cooped up in the hospital for so long that two days inside of a flat was killing me inside. I was desperate to develop a somewhat normal routine where I wasn’t staring at walls every hour of the day. I was very conscious of not overdoing it, but a little fatigue was worth it in order to feel like I was living again. I had always been quite independent, and after the last couple of months of being helpless I wanted to prove to myself that I could be alone and still be okay.
Once I knew I could tackle a stroll, I wouldn’t feel as worried when I eventually told Elliot about my little adventure. He worried over me constantly, so showing him – and myself – that I was truly on my way to being physically healthy again was important to me. As much as I loved his help and attention, I didn’t want to become a burden to him or a responsibility. I simply wanted to be his partner and his equal – and once I was better, he could step down from the twenty-four-seven Noah care service he was currently offering.
I dressed with ease, pulling on a sky-blue sundress that fell to my mid-thigh to reflect the warm May day. After I put my sock and shoe on to my good foot, I put my hair into two French plaits, and popped on some mascara and lip balm. I didn’t look like anything special, but I felt like a million quid. With my boot securely fastened, I made sure I had the key Elliot had given me to the flat, as well as some money and my new phone. Then I hooked the strap of my bag over my head and left the flat, locking the door behind me before making my way outside and to the bus stop.
I was going to All in Bloom, the flower shop I’d worked at in Tulse Hill. It was only a ten-minute walk from my and Elliot’s flat, but that ten-minute walk could easily turn into an hour with how slow I was moving these days, and how many breaks I knew I’d need to take. The bus made the journey less than a couple of minutes long, and the shop was within sight of the bus stop at the other end.
With a smile on my face, I took my time as I walked down the street. Not much had changed on this particular road since I remembered it last, and I was pleased about that. But as I got on the bus and gazed out the window, the entire neighbourhood looked different. It was astonishing to see how much even little changes could alter my impression of a place. I noticed so many new things that it was both astounding and somewhat disturbing. When change happens gradually, people tend not to notice it. But when you’re disconnected from a place during the time of that change, you notice the differences right away. Or at least I did.
And that was how I felt when I entered All in Bloom, my old place of work. I noticed everything that was different. The floor space was bigger, and I recalled that the owner, Helen, had briefly talked about expanding the shop once she got planning permission for an extension from the council.
There were thick, dark wooden ceiling beams and the walls were a bright, crisp white with colourful decor. The shop itself had a whole new layout that took customers on a little path as they browsed. It was beautiful . . . It was also my idea.
I had drawn up a plan of what I wanted my own flower shop to look like in the future. I had never kept it a secret that one day I wanted to run my own place, make my own rules and bring to life a vision I saw in my head. I felt my heart pinch knowing that Helen had obviously taken a liking to my plan and put it to use herself. I didn’t feel angry though, just disappointed. And that disappointment quickly changed to motivation. The plan I’d