The bell above the door jingles, a cheerful sound in the quiet shop.
CHARLENE BALDWIN is hunched over the till, punching in numbers with a sigh of weary concentration. The shop is a riot of colour and life, but her expression is muted.
CHARLENE BALDWIN
(Without looking up from the till)
Trevor, I've bought beers and wine for later. God, I hate Wednesdays. They are so slow. Like, kill me now.
TREVOR "SHIFTY" LAWSON enters. He wears oil-stained mechanic's overalls but has a bright, eager look on his face, a stark contrast to Charlene's mood.
SHIFTY LAWSON
(Brightening at being included in social plans)
My employer has given me the day off, and I could think of no better way than to help a lady in need.
He moves closer to the counter, trying to appear useful. His eyes scan the shop, taking in the organised chaos of petals and stems.
CHARLENE BALDWIN
(Gesturing to a large potted plant with a "RESERVED" tag)
An old lady, Mrs. Seymour has reserved this plant, and the base is too heavy for me to carry to her car. She's opened her boot.
SHIFTY LAWSON
(Rolling up his sleeves eagerly)
I do love handiwork. It's what I'm put on this earth to do.
He approaches the heavy ceramic pot, assesses its weight, and bends his knees. He attempts to lift the plant, struggling more than he expected but determined not to show it. His face flushes with effort.
CHARLENE BALDWIN
(With genuine gratitude)
Thanks, Trevor.
Shifty pauses mid-lift, the strain on his face momentarily replaced by surprise and pleasure.
SHIFTY LAWSON
(Pausing, genuinely touched)
Finally, someone actually said my name without the narky term "Shifty." Oh, that feels so good.
He takes a moment, savouring the simple respect, then carefully lifts the plant with a final grunt and heads toward the door.
CHARLENE BALDWIN
(Calling after him)
Careful with the leaves! Mrs. Seymour will have my head if there's even a scratch.
SHIFTY LAWSON
(Nodding seriously)
Trust me. This plant will arrive in better condition than it left.
SHIFTY exits with the plant. As the door closes behind him, BART MATTHEWS (mid-30s, well-dressed, confident) enters with a self-assured stride and a smile that suggests he's pleased with himself.
BART MATTHEWS
(Cheerfully)
Afternoon, Charlene. Do you have any primroses in?
CHARLENE BALDWIN
(Her demeanour subtly shifting, more attentive, a flicker of something guarded in her eyes)
Why primroses?
BART MATTHEWS
(Leaning casually against the counter)
For Isobel. She's been through a lot lately. She does become the laughing stock when Reggie wants to read aloud that she votes Conservative.
(He stands straighter, pride evident in his posture.)
I've bought a house, which is why I'm buying these.
CHARLENE BALDWIN
(With forced enthusiasm)
A house? Well, congratulations to you both.
She moves to a display of primroses, selecting a small arrangement, her movements a little too precise.
SHIFTY LAWSON re-enters, dusting off his hands, his face beaming.
SHIFTY LAWSON
Mission accomplished! The plant is safely delivered, and Mrs. Seymour says you're a dear.
He stops when he sees Bart. His cheerful energy deflates slightly in the face of Bart's polished confidence.
CHARLENE BALDWIN
(To Bart, ignoring Shifty for a moment)
I'm so happy you're getting on to the property ladder and leaving Reggie's, long time coming.
SHIFTY LAWSON
(Genuinely curious, inserting himself into the conversation)
When are you moving into the property?
BART MATTHEWS
(Checking his watch)
I'm going to move her in tomorrow—her birthday. She has no idea. I am planning on surprising her with the keys over dinner.
CHARLENE BALDWIN
(Placing the primroses on the counter, her smile not quite reaching her eyes)
Two shillings and six pence, please.
BART MATTHEWS
(Counting out exact change)
That's the correct change. See you later.
BART takes the flowers and exits with a confident stride. A silence hangs in the air.
SHIFTY LAWSON
(Watching BART leave)
That's a man on the move. He knows what he wants, and he gets it.
CHARLENE BALDWIN
(Staring at the door, her voice flat)
You know, the last time he came in here was my first customer back last year.
SHIFTY LAWSON
(Leaning against the counter)
Why do you remember that?
CHARLENE BALDWIN
(Sighing, arranging items behind the counter with sharp, jerky movements)
Because he was speed dating and he met Isobel. I thought me and him were meant to be, but he picked her, and I'm mixing with the local riffraff.
She glances at SHIFTY, then adds quickly.
No offence.
SHIFTY LAWSON
(Opening his mouth to respond)
Well, I—
Before he can finish, MRS. HAYES (70s, impeccably dressed, dignified despite her obvious sadness) approaches the counter quietly. Her presence commands attention despite her small stature.
MRS. HAYES
(Softly, voice slightly trembling)
Excuse me, young man. I'm looking for flowers for my friend's son. He... he passed away suddenly, and she's so devastated.
Shifty's demeanour transforms completely—gentle, respectful, attentive. The nervous energy is gone, replaced by a quiet empathy.
SHIFTY LAWSON
(Speaking with unexpected tenderness)
Let me help you find something special for her.
He guides her to a section of white flowers, moving with a surprising grace.
SHIFTY LAWSON (CONT'D)
Now, these white lilies symbolize purity and peace. They might bring her some comfort during this difficult time. Or sometimes, something simple like a white rose. It's for remembrance, but also love. It says everything without being too much.
MRS. HAYES
(Touching the petals gently)
The roses. I think the roses. Thank you.
SHIFTY LAWSON
(Carefully selecting the best blooms and arranging them)
Charlene will take your payment while I wrap these.
He moves to the wrapping station, handling the flowers with surprising care and expertise, folding the paper with neat, practiced motions.
CHARLENE BALDWIN
(Watching SHIFTY with surprise before turning to MRS. HAYES)
That will be cash, Mrs. Hayes?
MRS. HAYES
(Opening her purse)
As always. He's a very thoughtful young man. You've trained him well.
SHIFTY LAWSON
(Returning with the elegantly wrapped bouquet)
I've added a sprig of rosemary. It's for remembrance. Don't tell Charlene, it's on the house.
He gives Mrs. Hayes a small, conspiratorial wink.
MRS. HAYES
(Taking the bouquet, visibly moved)
Thank you ever so much. That's our little secret.
MRS. HAYES pays and exits with the flowers, her posture slightly less burdened. Charlene stares at Shifty, her earlier cynicism momentarily forgotten.
CHARLENE BALDWIN
Who could think an ex-criminal could be so inviting? I've got to hand it to you. You seem to have a way with people.
SHIFTY LAWSON
(Returning to his usual spot by the counter, but with more confidence)
I want people to see I'm changed. It's hard enough to get back into society without being judged. And we're friends. You're the only one who cares about me.
CHARLENE BALDWIN
(Organizing receipts, not making eye contact)
Because I love your wit and dedication. Mrs. Hayes is from a very big family and a very loyal customer. She gets flowers for all occasions, and normally, she's a bit of a run around, but you dealt with her perfectly.
SHIFTY LAWSON
(Looking out the window at the street)
I only wish that Masefield Avenue and the world saw me through your eyes. Without your friendship, I'd be out of this godforsaken hell hole.
A beat of silence. Charlene stops her work, finally looking directly at him.
CHARLENE BALDWIN
Wait a minute. Shouldn't you be... somewhere else today?
SHIFTY LAWSON
(Confused)
What do you mean? I told you, Reggie gave me the day off.
CHARLENE BALDWIN
Right. But… Jay Shakespeare's funeral. Reggie told me half the garage was going to pay their respects. Jay worked there for, what, twenty years?
Shifty looks down at his oily boots, suddenly looking uncomfortable.
SHIFTY LAWSON
Yeah. They all went. Left about an hour ago.
CHARLENE BALDWIN
So why aren't you there? You knew him, didn't you?
SHIFTY LAWSON
(Muttering)
Knew him enough. Good bloke. Always had a spare smoke if you were short.
CHARLENE BALDWIN
Trevor. Why are you here, helping me with a slow Wednesday, instead of at your friend's funeral?
He looks up, and his gaze is direct, all nervousness gone again.
SHIFTY LAWSON
Because you called me last night. You sounded... down. You said you were dreading today. And I know what it's like to dread a day. And I figured... well, Jay's got half the town there to say goodbye. He's not alone. I thought maybe you could use someone here. So you weren't.
Charlene is speechless. She stares at him, really seeing him, perhaps for the first time. The man who just showed a grieving woman such tenderness, who skipped a funeral just to keep her company.
CHARLENE BALDWIN
(Softly)
You skipped a funeral... for me? To help me with pot plants and listen to me moan about Bart Matthews?
SHIFTY LAWSON
(Shrugging, a bit embarrassed now)
Well, when you put it like that it sounds a bit daft. But, yeah. Seemed like the right thing to do. My priorities are in order, Char. For once.
The phone on the counter rings, shrill and demanding, shattering the moment. Charlene jumps, then answers it, her eyes still on Shifty.
CHARLENE BALDWIN
(Into phone)
Charlene's Flowers... Yes, Mrs. Seymour... The soil was too wet? You tipped it over and the soil was too wet? I see... Yes, of course, we can exchange it... No, I'm sure it's no trouble at all... Tomorrow morning would be perfect. Thank you.
She hangs up the phone with a long, drawn-out sigh, pressing her fingers to her temples.
CHARLENE BALDWIN (CONT'D)
Mrs. Seymour is going to be the absolute death of me. That woman has returned three plants this month. Now the soil is "sub-par."
SHIFTY LAWSON
(Leaning against the counter with a grin, the mood shifting back to easy banter)
Maybe she just wants an excuse to see your charming face again. God knows I would.
CHARLENE BALDWIN
(Rolling her eyes but smiling, a real smile this time)
Or maybe she knows I'll send my handsome, strong delivery boy to do all the heavy lifting, and she enjoys the view. A young man like yourself is a sex symbol to the over 65s.
SHIFTY LAWSON
(Flexing one arm playfully)
These muscles aren't just for show, you know. Three years at Frederick Lloyd's Garage, it builds character... and other things.
He wipes his hands on a rag from his pocket, inadvertently leaving a small grease smudge on his cheek.
CHARLENE BALDWIN
(Her smile softening)
You've got a little something... right there. On your cheek.
She gestures to her own cheek. Shifty rubs his face, completely missing the spot and smearing it slightly.
CHARLENE BALDWIN
(With exasperated fondness)
Oh, for heaven's sake. Hold still. You're like a child.
She grabs a tissue from the box behind the counter, takes a step closer into his personal space, and gently dabs the grease from his cheek. The air thickens. He stands perfectly still, his gaze locked on hers. His usual nervous energy is gone, replaced by a quiet intensity.
SHIFTY LAWSON
(Voice slightly softer)
Thanks, Char.
CHARLENE BALDWIN
(Stepping back quickly, suddenly flustered by their proximity)
Can't have you scaring away the customers. What few we have.
She turns away, busying herself with a nearby vase of daisies. Shifty watches her, a small, confident smile playing on his lips.
SHIFTY LAWSON
About those drinks later... I was thinking. Maybe we skip the beer at yours and go somewhere proper? There's that new Italian place on Westfield Street. My treat.
Charlene pauses, her back still to him.
CHARLENE BALDWIN
You mean... like a date?
SHIFTY LAWSON
(His confidence not wavering)
Yeah. Exactly like a date. You, me, and a big bowl of pasta that neither of us has to cook or clean up.
Charlene slowly turns around. She looks at him—at his kind eyes, his grease-smudged overalls, the man who knew what she needed before she did.
CHARLENE BALDWIN
(A genuine, warm smile spreading across her face)
A date sounds nice, Trevor.
Shifty breaks into a broad, triumphant grin. He takes a step back in his excitement and bumps into a small display of cacti, sending one tumbling. He catches it deftly before it hits the floor, wincing as a few spines prick his hand.
SHIFTY LAWSON
Smooth. Still got it.
Charlene laughs, a real, unburdened laugh that fills the quiet shop.
CHARLENE BALDWIN
Go home and get cleaned up. And put a plaster on that. I'll close up early. Seems Wednesdays aren't so bad after all.
SHIFTY LAWSON
(Beaming)
I'll be back in an hour. Looking proper dashing, I promise. No motor oil.
He heads for the door, walking with a new lightness.
CHARLENE BALDWIN
(Calling after him)
Hey, Trevor?
He turns at the door, his hand on the handle.
SHIFTY LAWSON
Yeah?
CHARLENE BALDWIN
I'm glad you weren't at the funeral.
His smile widens. It's a look of pure, unadulterated happiness.
SHIFTY LAWSON
Me too, Char. Me too.
CHARLENE BALDWIN watches the door swing shut behind Shifty, a genuine, warm smile lingering on her lips. She picks up a stray petal from the counter, her movements light and unburdened. Humming softly to herself, she walks to the front door and flips the "OPEN" sign to "CLOSED" with a satisfying click. She feels a sense of hopeful possibility she hasn't felt in a long time.
Just as she turns back to the shop, the door is pushed open forcefully, the bell jangling in protest.
TOM BRADSHAW (late 30s, a tradesman in a clean, branded polo shirt, carrying himself with the swagger of someone who thinks they're a local success) strides in, ignoring the "CLOSED" sign completely.
TOM BRADSHAW
Charlene. Just the woman. I saw you were closing up early, thought I'd catch you.
CHARLENE BALDWIN
(Her good mood instantly evaporating, replaced by a polite but firm tone)
Sorry, Tom, I am closed. Bit of a long day.
TOM BRADSHAW
(Waving a dismissive hand)
Won't take a minute. I just saw Shifty Lawson leaving here looking like the cat that got the cream. Had to come and check you still had your till.
He lets out a short, barking laugh. Charlene's expression hardens.
CHARLENE BALDWIN
Trevor was helping me out. He's a friend.
TOM BRADSHAW
(Leaning against the counter, making himself at home)
A friend? Come on, Char. You're smarter than that. I've known that bloke since we were in short trousers. Shifty by name, shifty by nature. Always has been, always will be.
CHARLENE BALDWIN
People can change, Tom. He's been nothing but good to me.
TOM BRADSHAW
(Scoffing)
Oh, I bet he has. He's good to everyone until he gets what he wants. You know he still owes me two hundred quid from three years ago? Borrowed it for a 'sure thing' on a horse. The horse is probably glue by now and I've not seen a penny.
He picks a rose from a bucket, inspecting it critically before dropping it back in, bruising the petals.
CHARLENE BALDWIN
That's between you and him. It's got nothing to do with me.
TOM BRADSHAW
It has everything to do with you! Look at you. You're a gorgeous girl. You've got this place, you're making a go of it. You're a proper catch. And you're letting him hang around? A bloke who's spent more time on probation than he has in a proper job?
CHARLENE BALDWIN
He has a proper job. At the garage. Reggie trusts him.
TOM BRADSHAW
(Leaning closer, lowering his voice into a conspiratorial, patronising tone)
Reggie gives him cash-in-hand work because he feels sorry for him. Everyone knows that. This is what Shifty does, Char. He finds someone decent, someone with a bit of heart, like you, and he latches on. He's a leech. He'll suck you dry of your good nature and then when the going gets tough, he'll disappear. He'll drag you right down into the muck with him.
CHARLENE BALDWIN
(Her voice tight with anger)
That's not the man I know. The man I know skipped his friend's funeral today just to keep me company because he knew I was having a bad day. Does that sound like a leech to you?
Tom is momentarily thrown by this information but recovers quickly.
TOM BRADSHAW
See! That's exactly what I'm talking about. It's all an act. Who does that? Who skips a mate's funeral? Someone with no loyalty, that's who. Someone who'll do some grand, dramatic gesture to get in a girl's good books. It's not real. It's calculated. He's playing you, Charlene.
CHARLENE BALDWIN
(Stepping back from the counter, creating distance)
Why do you care so much, Tom? What is it to you who I spend my time with?
TOM BRADSHAW
Because I hate seeing good people make stupid mistakes! You deserve a decent bloke. Someone with a bit of ambition. Someone who owns his own van, not someone who's borrowing tools. Someone who can take you to a nice dinner without checking if his card will get declined.
He puffs his chest out slightly, the implication hanging thick in the air. He sees himself as that "decent bloke."
CHARLENE BALDWIN
He is taking me to dinner. Tonight. And I'm looking forward to it.
TOM BRADSHAW
(His face twists into a sneer of disbelief and pity)
You can't be serious. You're going to put on a nice dress and go out with… Trevor Lawson? The bloke who hot-wired my dad's Cortina when we were seventeen? The bloke who got done for nicking lead off the church roof? That's who you think is good enough for you?
CHARLENE BALDWIN
(Her voice dangerously quiet)
Get out.
TOM BRADSHAW
I'm just trying to look out for you.
CHARLENE BALDWIN
No, you're not. You're trying to make yourself feel big by making someone else feel small. Trevor has been kinder to me in the past few months than people I've known my whole life. He sees me. He doesn't see a "gorgeous girl" or a "proper catch" to be won. He sees me. Now, I told you I was closed. So get out of my shop.
She points a trembling but determined finger towards the door. Tom stares at her, his cocksure attitude finally cracking. He sees he's lost.
TOM BRADSHAW
Fine. Don't come crying to me when he's pawned your stock for gambling money. Just remember I warned you.
He turns and stalks out of the shop, letting the door slam behind him. The bell jangles violently, then falls silent.
Charlene stands alone in the quiet shop. Her defiant anger slowly drains away, replaced by a creeping unease. She walks to the door and locks it, resting her forehead against the cool glass. Tom's vicious words echo in the space where hope and happiness had been just minutes before. Her shoulders slump. The date she was so excited about now feels fragile, tainted by doubt.