BR - Beth's Home Part 3

Breakfast helps. Beth goes from drooping flower to perked up and almost glowing. It just takes a huge plate of food and by your count, six cups of hot tea with milk and sugar. You’ve never seen her eat like this, but then again, you don’t think you’ve ever seen her this hungover. Maybe she missed this food; this is her home, after all.

Without holding hands, you leave the pub and head back to the house, where find someone else approaching the door. She’s about your mom’s age and wearing a green dress that’s old-fashioned, but you think it’s very cute because she’s got an apron on over it. Her black hair is wild and curly. It’s all over the place, but she’s wearing a headscarf to keep it under control. She carries a tote loaded with flowers and another small bag.

It's clear, even before you read her apron, that she is a florist. You love her big, hoop earrings and vaguely gypsy-like look.

“Hello,” she says warmly. Her voice is low and musical. She’s pale and bony under that dress. You like her witchy, hippie vibes. When you were growing up, it was the women like this one in Gurlberg that were always the coolest. “Beth. Welcome home.”

“Morning. Have we met?” Beth asks guardedly, stopping you from going any closer.

“No. But your mum gets all this from my shop,” she says, gesturing at the flower boxes. “And she’s always going on about her famous daughter.”

“Sorry,” Beth says, blanching. “I’m not famous. I’m sorry about her.”

“Heavens, why? You’re mum’s a delight.” The woman smiles and holds out the small bag. “Would you be willing to give that to her?”

Beth hesitates. “All right, then.” She takes it. “Sorry. I drank too much last night.”

“I can see that,” the woman says, doing her best not to laugh. “Edna.”

They shake hands.

“This is Riley. She’s a footballer. She’s the famous one,” Beth says, pushing you forward.

Blushing, you shake hands with Edna.

“Not really,” you say.

“Maybe a bit,” Edna says.

“No, not really.”

“But I’ve seen you. On a bus,” she says.

“On a bus?”

“Mm. In Essex,” Edna says, her green eyes sparkling.

“Really?” you say, startled. You look at Beth. “Do you really have the big, red buses with two floors? Like in the movies?”

Beth gives you a look. “Course we do.”

“Well,” Edna goes on. “It was really just your bum.”

That gives you pause. “Huh?”

“Dunno if it was meant to be like that,” Edna says, looking thoughtful and touching her fingertip to her chin. “But that’s what it was. You were wearing pink shorts.”

“That’s Riley all right,” Beth says, looking up at you. “Perfect. Can’t be in the bloody EU, but we’ve got your arse on a bus.”