THE FINEST BOUQUET
Jack strode briskly through the quiet evening streets, humming a tune under his breath. Tonight, he had a date lined up with a rather charming young lady. Jack himself was the embodiment of romantic free-spiritedness: no job, no money, and not a single plan for the future. His only wealth was an endless vocabulary, which he poured into the ears of unsuspecting women.
But even a layabout and cynic like Jack knew it was foolish to show up empty-handed; it was about as wise as buying a dodgy kebab at the train stationyour odds of a good outcome were fifty-fifty at best.
Casting his dreamy, love-struck gaze around, he finally spotted something that could save the day. Beneath one of the windows of a block of flats, some kind soul had created a genuine garden.
The buds were stunning, even in their sleep, and filled him with awe. The little garden was a work of art. Everything harmonised: the flower varieties, homemade fences, and plastic and stone decorations shaped like gnomes and giant snails.
Trust pensioners to be good for something, Jack whistled with delight, and without a second thought, stepped over the fence and began to break off a few stems in the most barbaric fashion.
These ones and those he muttered, hopping from bush to bush. In a couple of minutes, he had a decent bunch of the prettiest flowers, though they clashed terribly in a single bouquet.
On his way out, Jack accidentally knocked over one of the gnomes, and stepping on it, pressed its face into the soil.
Sorry, mate! Hope your pals help you out, but Ive got to leg it, Jack called over his shoulder, climbing back over the fence.
Hed nearly reached the end of the building when the intercom buzzed and a voice called out, Stop right there!
Quickening his pace, Jack darted around the corner. He knocked the dirt off his boots and brushed his jeans, glancing at his watch. He still had twenty minutes and about three hundred yards to go before the date. The street was quiet and empty, only cats darted silently along the walls, and the occasional city dweller disappeared into taxis.
Back on his route, Jack passed a couple more buildings before he felt someones eyes boring into the back of his head. Suddenly, a shadow began to grow on the pavement in front of him.
Turning behind another building, Jack walked parallel to his original path. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed someone keeping pace nearby.
Turning his head, he saw a large male figure. A chill ran down his spine. Zigzagging between buildings, Jack thought hed lost his pursuer. After another turn, he found himself on a long, narrow path squeezed between a nursery and a school. Footsteps sounded behind him. Without looking back, Jack broke into a half-run; he was nearly at the end of the path when a menacing figure appeared ahead. A huge bald head rising straight from broad shoulders caught the glow of a white streetlamp.
Jack started to back away, but the stranger closed the gap in a few strides and grabbed his t-shirt so hard the seams strained.
Look, Ive got nothing, not a penny. Take my phone if you want, just dont hit me, Jack pleaded, eyes squeezed shut.
Oh, not a penny, eh? rumbled the heavy, raspy voice. Jack felt hot breath on his face. So whered you get those lovely flowers if youve got no money, hmm?
I I picked them, in the yard Take them if you want! Jack offered the bouquet.
Ah. So you stole them, did you? The mans grip tightened.
I didnt steal! Im telling you, I just picked them! They grow outside, so theyre nobodys, right?
Jack opened his eyes. His imagination hadnt failed him: the man was truly intimidatingthe textbook image from a police sketch marked especially dangerous.
Nobodys, you say? They just grew themselves, looked after themselves, put up their own fence, did they? the man sneered.
Shifting his grip so Jack could walk, the brute dragged him back the way theyd come.
Well, not themselves, someone planted them Where are you taking me? Ill shout! Jack struggled, but after a light punch to the stomach, he coughed and thought better of calling for help.
Five minutes later, they stood before the very flowerbed Jack had shamelessly raided.
Look what youve done, the man pointed at the ugly bald patches in the once-beautiful bushes and the marks left on the lawn beside the stone path.
Theyre just flowers! I didnt kill or hurt anyone.
Really? What about him? The man picked up the garden gnome, its face smeared with earth. Ever heard the phrase an eye for an eye?
Its just a toy Jack was nearly in tears, his usual bravado gone.
Whyd you do it? the man asked sternly.
I wanted to give them to a girl! I told you, Ive got no money, thought Id at least pick some flowers, Jack wailed, dropping to his knees.
A girl, eh? So youre a romantic, the brute clicked his tongue. Well then, Romeo, lets go for a ride.
The man pulled a key fob from his pocket, and a black car parked nearby flashed its headlights.
Where are you taking me?! Im not going anywhere! Jack shouted, but after a ringing flick to the forehead, he fell silent. The man shoved him into the back seat, got behind the wheel, and locked the doors.
They left the estate, turned onto the bypass, and ten minutes later were bumping along a dirt road leading to a field.
Listen, Im sorry! Ill fix everything, replant every flower, tidy up the lawn, buy new gnomes! Just let me go, Jack begged all the way, but the man didnt reply.
Soon, the city lights faded behind them. The car plunged into the night, jolting over potholes. Must be some local caretaker. What a mess Ive landed myself in! Jack cursed his habit of living on the cheap.
Out, the man commanded coldly, pulling the handbrake.
W-what do you want? Jack trembled as the driver pulled something from his pocket that looked like a blade.
You need this. You said you wanted flowers for your girl, so go onpick them, free and without harm. Ill light the way with the headlights, the man said, handing Jack a small pair of secateurs in a much calmer voice.
Youre joking, right? Jack wanted to ask, but thought better of it and nodded, stepping out to gather a bouquet.
Well drive a bit further. I know where tansy and wild marjoram growthosell make any arrangement pop, the man said, noticing Jacks handful of daisies and bluebells.
Are you a florist? Jack asked, his voice less shaky now.
No. Not a florist. Used to pick flowers with my daughter in the fields. Thats all. Get in.
They drove to the middle of the field and together finished gathering the bouquet. Sneaking a look at his phone, Jack realised hed never make it to his date on time. But what bothered him more was that the lady hadnt called once. Only a single message blinked in his messenger: Should I wait for you or not?
Youre picking anything and everything, the man scolded, eyeing Jacks scraggly bunch. Plucking out the weeds and adding a few of his own, the man crafted a rather handsome, full bouquet. There, thats better. Like it?
Yeah, Jack nodded sheepishly.
See? And you didnt spend a penny, the man reminded him, taking back the secateurs and inviting Jack to the front passenger seat. Ill drive you to your sweetheart, so you dont think Im some kind of maniac.
Reaching back, the man grabbed a half-empty water bottle and cut off the top.
Keep them in water, or theyll wilt, he said, handing Jack the makeshift vase.
Arent you worried Ill go to the police?
Not worried. The man opened the glove box and pulled out an old police ID. I havent served in years, but Ive still got plenty of mates. And you, by the way, caused material damage.
Sorry. I just didnt think
Thats the problem, lad, you didnt think. Today, you picked flowers to save money, tomorrow, you might nick a flat. And then, who knows, maybe worse Jack noticed the mans voice tremble.
No need to go to extremes, Jack muttered, offended.
Im serious. It all starts small. You didnt think about who you hurt. You destroyed something beautiful, all for yourself. Whats to stop you going a bit further next time?
The field ended, the car turned onto tarmac and picked up speed.
Im not a bad person, Jack finally said after some thought.
Lets hope so.
So, is that your garden?
My daughters. I made it for her.
Jack glanced at his captor and, in the flickering streetlights, saw a lonely streak of moisture on the mans face.
Whatll you do with the first bouquet? Jack persisted.
Dont worry, Ive got someone to give it to, the driver snorted. Was heading to the cemetery tomorrow afternoon anyway.
Reflecting on the conversation, the hints about burglary and victims, Jack came to a rather sad conclusion.
Sorry
God forgives. Where to?
North Street, number forty.
Jack gave his address. Realising he wasnt really expected at his date, he decided to head straight home.
***
The next day, Jack woke up and, seeing the wildflower bouquet in the plastic bottle, decided to deliver it to its intended recipientit was too beautiful to throw away.
After washing, shaving, and dressing in clean clothes, Jack set off along the same route as yesterday. Passing the now-familiar yard where hed been driven off to the field, he spotted his captor from the day before, busy among the flowers.
Good morning, Jack greeted.
Oh, Romeo, its you, the man chuckled, noticing the familiar bouquet in Jacks hands.
In daylight, the man seemed less frightening. Despite his huge shoulders, powerful chest, bald head that could be a weapon in itself, and strong jaw, he was just an ordinary man approaching retirement, dressed in trackies, a shirt, and a green apron.
Need a hand? Jack asked.
No, Im fine. My daughter brought new flowers, Im planting them to replace the broken ones.
Your daughter? Jack was surprised, having assumed shed died.
Yeah. She arrived today. Just turned eighteen. Her mum never let her visit before. My ex-wife and I had loads of court battles, and in the end, she managed to take my daughter to another city without my consent. Never marry a lawyer, the man joked.
Thanks for the tip, Jack smiled.
Despite the fresh unpleasant memories, Jack felt a weight lift from his heart, hearing the daughter was well. The two men didnt notice the door open behind them, and someone had been watching for a minute.
Hello! What a lovely bouquet, came a bright, girlish voice. Dad, will you introduce us?
Alice, youve had breakfast already? the man asked, putting down his tools. This is he gestured to Jack, then realised he didnt know his name.
Jack. Im helping your dad with the garden, Jack replied quickly, stepping up to Alice and handing her the wildflower bouquet. These are for you, we picked them together yesterday for your arrival.
Thank you, Alice blushed, accepting the flowers. Im off to the shop, do you need anything?
Bring some lemonade, the gardener called.
And you, Jack? Alice smiled, coyly hiding behind the bouquet.
Just some sparkling water, please.
Alright.
Alice left, and Jack barely managed not to stare after her.
Listen, Jack, or whatever your name is, dont get any ideas. You know we could end up in that field again? the man warned, gripping his hoe tightly.
I promise to behave and not make any moves without your permission, Jack vowed.
Really? That quick to reform? Fast learner. Well, well see. What are you standing there for? Come on, lets pull some weeds.Jack grinned, rolling up his sleeves. Alright, Im game. Just dont make me regret it.
The man handed him a pair of battered gardening gloves. Youll want these. The nettles are murder.
Jack slipped them on, feeling the rough fabric scratch his wrists. He knelt beside the flowerbed, tugging at stubborn weeds while the man worked methodically, his movements sure and practiced. The silence between them was companionable, broken only by the occasional clink of tools and the distant hum of a lawnmower.
After a while, Jack glanced up. So, Aliceshes your only child?
The man nodded, his face softening. Yeah. Shes everything to me. Smart as a whip, too. Wants to study art in London.
Jack smiled, picturing Alice with her bouquet, sunlight catching her hair. She seems lovely.
She is. Just hope she doesnt fall for any layabouts, the man said, shooting Jack a pointed look.
Jack chuckled, not taking offence. Im working on it. Maybe Ill get a proper job, buy my own flowers next time.
The man snorted. See that you do.
They worked until the sun climbed higher, sweat beading on their foreheads. Alice returned, carrying a bag of groceries and two bottleslemonade and sparkling water. She handed them out with a smile, then knelt beside Jack, her skirt brushing the grass.
Dad, Jacks actually quite good at this, she said, inspecting the cleared patch.
Beginners luck, Jack replied, grinning.
They finished the last of the weeds together, and the man stood, stretching his back. Right, thats enough for today. Alice, you want to help me plant these new flowers?
She nodded eagerly, and Jack watched as father and daughter worked side by side, laughter and gentle teasing passing between them. He felt a pang of envy, but also something warmera sense of belonging, however fleeting.
When they were done, the man clapped Jack on the shoulder. You did alright, lad. Maybe youre not such a hopeless case.
Jack smiled, feeling lighter than he had in ages. Thanks. Ill try to keep it up.
Alice handed him a small posy shed made from the leftover blooms. For you, Jack. A thank you for helping.
He took it, surprised by the gesture. Cheers, Alice. Means a lot.
As the afternoon waned, Jack said his goodbyes and headed home, the posy tucked safely in his jacket. He walked with a spring in his step, thinking about the day, about Alice, and about the possibility of change.
Maybe, just maybe, hed start making better choices. And maybe, one day, hed bring a bouquet that was truly his own.
