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“TRINNNNNNNNG, — TRINNNNNNNNG!”
Colin groaned, one bleary eye glanced at his watch. 8:15 blinked back at him. He pulled the pillow over his head and turned around on the couch, the duvet strangling him with the effort. It wasn’t the right time to wake up, especially because he was still on PST and drained. He was confident that either Eloise or Pen would be the one to get to the door. It was their home after all. He sunk back into a slumber.
A long, shrill ring announced a knock at the door. It was clear it was up to him to open the door and address whoever was trying to raise him. He had a vague recollection of Eloise and Pen saying their goodbyes when they left for their internship, it was their last year at uni. He was too travel worn to remember much else.
“Hold your horses, I’m coming—,” he growled at the person behind the offensive door. He slipped a t-shirt on, checked his boxers were not showing a tepee and stumbled into the hallway, just missing the suitcases he had so haphazardly left there yesterday evening when he had arrived. It was his usual place to crash after travelling, the couch at El’s and Pen’s place. Checking who had the gall to wake him at this indecent hour he glanced through the spy hole, only to be greeted by the biggest bouquet of yellow roses he had ever seen.
“TRINNNNNNNNNNNNNG!”
Colin yelped, the bell ringing close to his ears. Swinging the door open, he cautiously avoided the roses, but as he tried to greet the stranger, the bouquet was thrust in his face.
“Flowers for Miss Featherington.”
“She is not here,” Colin replied to the crispy foil holding the stems and its golden crowns, his voice gruff and sleep-deprived.
“Could you be a doll and accept them for her. I got more flowers to deliver, you see,” The flowers lowered and Colin finally saw the girl attached to the nasal voice, her eyes smudged with kohl, her blond hair tucked into the sloppiest ponytail he had ever seen. Her hands scratched from cutting flowers and bundling them into bouquets. She looked like she lacked sleep as well. “Thanks love,” the girl waved as she turned on her heels and walked away, leaving him with this delicate cargo.
Pen would not like it if the flowers wilted before she got home. He ensured the hall was empty, then shut the door, heading to the kitchen. He had spent so many days at El’s and Pen’s place, he knew there were vases under the kitchen sink. He found a vase large enough, filled it with water, testing its temperature—perfect for the roses. He brought the flowers to the living room and put them on the table, where they would catch the sunlight when the sun finally showed it’s face.
He yawned, checked his watch and snuggled into the duvet again, he would not mind sleeping at least another hour if he wanted to feel even remotely human. Looking at the flowers, his last thought was how nice it was someone remembered Pen’s birthday, before his eyes shut once again and he drifted off to sleep.
“TRINNNNNNNG!”
Colin jolted awake, his hair ruffled, heart pounding. This must be a nightmare or sorts. He untangled himself from the duvet and hurried towards the front door and yanked it open, before the blasted doorbell punctured his eardrums again. The cold tiles on his naked feet snaked it’s way up his spine and he shivered.
“Good morning sir,” a young miss grinned at him, her eyes roaming him from head to toe, “I have a chocolate telegram for Miss Featherington.”
Colin wisely avoided informing her of Penelope's absence. He tried a smile, but it would not reach his eyes and accepted the box with a soft, “Thanks. I’ll make sure she gets it.”
“I’m sure you will,” she smirked as she winked. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”
Before Colin could respond, she had left, leaving him gobsmacked in the open door. Valentine’s Day… He had totally forgotten it was Valentine’s Day. Not Pen’s birthday. If his hands weren’t holding a chocolate box, he would slap his face for thinking it was Pen’s birthday. Her birthday was in April, when the daffodils emerged to light up the green pastures, the yellow flowers that reminded him of her. Their yellow blooms with a touch of orange announcing a new spring with new beginnings, the start of a new season full of hope and wonder. Yet now it was still winter and the fresh gusts of wind when the downstairs banged shut tickled his legs. Colin shivered again and went back inside.
He placed the chocolate telegram next to the flowers on the table and settled himself back on the couch. Wrapping the duvet around his chilled form, he lay down again. The flowers and chocolate stared him down. They won, Colin drifted back to sleep.
“TRINNNNNNNNNNNG!”
Colin sighed. At least he had slept for a few more hours, before the next intruder awoke him. He had been staring at the Valentine gifts ever since waking up, wondering what they meant. He untangled himself from the duvet, hurried to the door and opened.
“Good morning, sir.” A mailman greeted him, holding a card of epic proportions. “Sorry, to disturb you, sir, but this size is not compliant with postal service regulations, so I had to hand deliver it myself, since it won’t fit the box. As you can probably see,” he guffawed. He placed the card beside the door. “I’ll only need your signature, sir, then I’m out of your hair.” His eyes followed Colin’s hand as it raked through his already ruffled hairdo. “You don’t seem happy with all the attention, if I might say so—,“ the mailman started.
“The letter is not for me. And also, not from me—,“ Colin sighed, before he signed the release form and took hold of the card.
“I’m sorry to hear that, sir. Good luck—,” the mailman murmured, before he turned on his heels and fled the scene.
Colin fiddled with the card; he entered the door sideways.
He placed the large card, resembling an unhung painting, in the living room then examined Penelope’s Valentine gifts. He was fully awake now.
Who’s sending Pen these gifts? What happened when he was abroad? He had seen her at both Christmas and New Year’s. That was what, only 6 weeks ago. Why did she not tell him she had met someone? These three gifts clearly indicated that someone was getting closer to Pen. He swallowed, his gut clenching. He had a hard time breathing. He had no right to feel this way. They were best friends, and he should be happy for Pen because someone cared for her. So, why did he feel like the pit dropped out of his stomach?
He looked at the gifts, his curiosity getting the better of him. He wanted to know who had sent these items, because he needed to make sure they were worthy of Pen. That was what friends were for, right? To make sure they did not make a mistake and fall for the wrong guy. He had been her best friend since forever, so he figured, yes, he had a right to protect Pen.
Walking over to the roses, who had responded to the tepid water by opening up and filling the room with a flowery aroma, he spotted a little envelope attached to the bouquet. He took the envelope, but hesitated. If he opened this little missive, it would be a great breach of trust. Would she ever forgive him if he interfered in her love life? But this was Pen, who deserved the world. Not some douche who would not value her— who would not love her, like he did. Colin froze.
It wasn’t possible. Or maybe it was. It wasn’t that he feared love, or didn’t believe in it. He just hadn’t … expected it. He had always thought Cupid would pierce his heart with an arrow when the right woman came along and he’d know instantly that his life would be changed forever. He had thought Cupid had missed him because he had surely done his job with his siblings. First Daphne with Simon, then Anthony had fallen for Kate. Even Benedict had been hit and wallowed away, until he had told him to just marry Sophie and forget about the rules of propriety. Love was love. And now it felt like he had missed his chance with Pen. Oh, Cupid could be cruel indeed.
Or maybe it was not too late. He could pretend the flowers came from him. He could eat the chocolate and Pen would be none the wiser, but his clenching stomach protested. This was indeed serious.
Nodding to himself just once, to confirm that he was indeed going to cross this boundary and see who had sent flowers to Pen, he opened the envelope.
“Forever yours ❤️”
Colin gasped. This was how he felt about Pen. She was like home, a beacon to guide him. If he was honest with himself, she was the only reason he came home once in a while, because he missed her. He needed her company, her wit, her clever digs at the people making fools of themselves in society, like he needed air. And now there was no air, if she had indeed found someone else to adore her.
The card was not signed, of course not. This was Valentine's Day, a day to send flowers and cards anonymously. Turning the card around, he saw the logo “Crane Creations”, that overpriced boutique flower shop in Bloomsbury. He placed the card on the table, pondering his options.
Did Pen secure a seduction of suitors or were these gifts from the same person? It would be nice to know the competition. He weighed the chocolate box in his hand. There was at least a pound of chocolate in it. Wait? Didn’t the girl say that it was a telegram? There was a message, maybe even a sender. Or a hint from the sender.
Colin checked the clock, Pen would not be home for hours. Nor Eloise. If he remembered correctly, El would have a romantic diner with Phillip, because it was Valentine’s Day. El had changed her tune since she had met this man. Never one to consider a relationship or love, Cupid had other ideas and struck her with precision and ever since she had met him, it was, “Phillip this and Phillip that—“. And now it appeared Pen might have found love as well, to share those romantic feelings with.
Turning the box, he spotted the seal that held the secret message. His curiosity was burning, but the seal was unmoved. He tried lifting the seal with his fingers, but the seal did not budge. They must use some sort of superglue to make sure no one could steal these chocolates. If he broke the seal, it was another boundary crossed. The envelope with the flowers was open, he could just put the card back and Pen would be in the dark of his curiosity. But this… this was beyond repair if he broke the seal. If all else failed, he would have to eat the evidence. His stomach twisted as he cut the seal. He took a deep breath, nodded to fool himself that this was perfectly okay and lifted the lid.
“❤️You will always be my forever and ever❤️”
A message in white, milk and dark chocolate with pink chocolate hearts stared at him from a light coloured box. Colin could no longer breathe. He sunk down on the couch, the box of chocolates following and ending in his lap. This almost sounded like a proposal. Who? Who had stolen her heart and was ready to take the jump? Not knowing was agony. Again, there was no name attached to the telegram, but it came with a card “Chocaholics” with a web address, no shop info.
Hmmm, he had seen an enormous billboard from the cab on his way from the airport to Pen’s place. He would have to google their location. Or maybe they only did business online. For now he was none the wiser if he had one competitor or several. Only the card remained. The bigger than life size card.
He was in over his head. There was no way he could not open this card. He needed to know who—. But what would he do if he knew? Would he do a quick internet search to check his credentials? Would he still tell Pen how he felt about her, how blind he had been all this time… with the risk of losing her as a friend.
He could no longer think. It must be jet lag. Or this churning feeling in his stomach and the thought of Pen walking to the altar towards someone else. If only he could see the face, but it was blank. He needed more information.
Placing the chocolate box back on the table, he stared at the card. With his luck today, it would be anonymous, like the rest. Or maybe the stamp told him something. Or the message inside. He walked over to the wall where the card stood. He turned it around, twisting it on one corner. He couldn’t read the stamp; it was smudged and spotted, obscuring the post office and date. He turned it to the back. The Valentine had sealed the envelope. Damn his luck. He had hoped he could have read the message without a trace of his curiosity, like the flowers.
There was nothing else for it. He had crossed many boundaries today, this was only dipping his toe over the line. He could explain. Could he?
A cloud of pink and red glitter and hearts erupted as he tore open the envelope, covering him. It stuck to his hands, his shirt and his hair. Or maybe not?
Pulling the card from its container without spreading any more glitter, he saw the hugging heart bears on the front, pink and red hearts adorning the bears. Colin wondered whether he should be angry about such a cliché choice or worried. Maybe the message on the inside would tip the scales on that front.
”I still remember the day we met, it was the best day of my life.”
In calligraphy.
Now he was worried. This turned out to be the worst day of his life. Coming back to the only person who made him feel seen in ways he had never felt seen before, only to realise she had moved on and was soon outside his grasp. But not all was lost. He could still figure out who had stolen the one person who was most dear to him. He had two business cards to start his research. One of those shops might be able to tell him who he was up against…
Thirty minutes later, Colin had dressed and was on his way to Crane Creations, the florist who had disturbed him first this morning. He had brought the card and some pictures of the bouquet, in case she needed a refresher.
When he turned the corner to where the florist was on the square in Bloomsbury, he noticed a line of men snaking towards the entrance of the florist. He started for the door, but someone rudely tapped him on the shoulder.
“Back of the line, mate.” A broad shouldered, crew cut blond man puffed up his shoulders as he protected his place in the cue.
“I’m not here to buy flowers, I only need some information.” Colin aimed for the door again.
“I don’t care, we all wait in line to be served. So, back of the line, sir.” His glance focused on the glitter on Colin’s face, as he pointed towards the back with a stubby thumb.
Others behind him nodded, glancing at their watches, hopping from foot to foot in the biting cold. Colin groaned; waiting was wasting most of his time, and he wondered how he’d ever learn his opponent’s identity. Or perhaps, he could use the time to find the nearest shop of the Chocaholics. He had already lost so much time, at least in his mind. Ambling towards the end of the cue, he took out his phone and started searching for the nearest chocolatier.
The card did not have an address, it just pointed to the webpage. But according to the website, the chocolatier had several shops and one was very close to this florist. Colin thought he could assume this nearby shop had received the chocolate order. It would be the logical way to do all your shopping in the same area. But did that also mean that his opponent lived in this area? Colin looked around, every man he saw could be his opponent, the competition.
How about that guy in the baggy trousers? He looked like an archeology student with his scraggly beard. Or the sleek guy in the cheap suit, he was an accountant or something. Too boring and not suitable for Penelope. He was sure of that. Rejecting every man he noticed made the time move faster and before he knew it, the door opened and he was next in line.
When the counter cleared, he stepped forward, pulling out the card and his phone with the picture of the bouquet. “Hello miss, I wonder if you could help me. One of your couriers delivered a bouquet this morning with this card,” he showed the message to the pink cheeked girl and gave her his best smile. “I would like to know who sent this bouquet, please.” He smiled again, the muscles in his cheeks straining with effort.
“Sir, if you’re not here to buy anything, then please go. It is our busiest day of the year and I do not have time to check orders. Most of the bouquets are anonymous, it’s Valentine.” She puffed at the loose strands covering her brow.
“But, you must have some register with the names and the orders,” Colin muttered.
“We do, but we match the orders after the event, because there just isn’t time to do it now. Like I said, it’s the busiest day of the year,” the girl pointed behind Colin and a long line of men were still waiting to be served. “Is there anything else I can do for you, sir? A lovely bouquet, anything?”
“I noticed you don’t have any yellow roses—,“ Colin started, when he looked around the shop. He saw a lot of red flowers, but no yellow.
“Yellow roses? No, sorry sir, they have to be ordered in advance. I could get you some tomorrow, if you would want to—.“
“Eh, no, thanks.” He looked around the buckets of flowers and felt lost. How did one convey the confounding feelings that were surging through his body? “I want to buy flowers that say I love you with a passion, you are my true love, you bring me joy. Is that even possible? I must admit, I do not speak ‘romance and flowers’ very well.” Colin cast his eyes down, it was the first time he had dared to utter the word love out loud. A soft pink crept up his cheeks and a warm glow filled his belly at the thought of Penelope.
“That’s quite all right, sir. Few do. I could make you a bouquet with red carnations for passionate love, red tulips would symbolise a true love and some chrysanthemums, maybe in white, to declare joy, but also enduring love? You might need another flower, if you’re committed.”
“That would be lovely, what do you suggest?”
“Well, sir, if you are committed I would add some lavender. It symbolises a committed relationship and it also calms the nerves,” she smiled as she watched his fingers, tapping on the counter.
“Yes, yes, that is an excellent combination,” Colin chuckled, forcing himself to still the nerves.
“So, you want to convey more than friendship?” the girl asked, while she picked flowers from the buckets and assembled a bouquet.
“I’m sorry?” Colin said, clearing his throat.
“You were asking about yellow roses, they symbolise friendship.”
“Do they now—,” Colin glowed, “That is helpful, thank you.” Maybe this time was not as wasted as he thought. If the yellow flowers truly celebrated a friendship—nothing more—hope might still exist. His heart took a tentative leap of faith, hope flared, that most dangerous of emotions.
And yes, the longer he thought about it, the more he knew it in his heart. His feelings for Penelope were not a thunderbolt from the sky. Or a cleverly aimed arrow by a slender winged youth with his bow. He had known her for a very long time and only today did he realise he had always felt something for her. It took the possibility of losing her to finally acknowledge that gnawing feeling that he wanted more than just friends. But now that he had accepted those feelings, he had no way of controlling them. It was all consuming. And not knowing if he had lost her already was a worse fate than —. He did not know what could be worse. He knew that Penelope was the love of his life. She was home. He only had to tell her that.
Content with the bouquet in reds, violet and white he left the florist with a spring in his step. Only to be confronted with another line around the corner. Colin knew better than to skip the cue and enter. He waited in line, sighing with every aching minute. This line moved faster and within a few minutes he was inside and ready to ask his questions.
“Yes, hello miss, I received a chocolate telegram today and I would like to know who sent it. Can you tell me?” Colin added his smile again.
“Oh, lucky you. Those chocolate telegrams can be pricey. She must love you a lot.” The girl behind the counter beamed back at him.
Colin flinched, yet put up a brave face. “Indeed, she must. But can you tell me who sent it?” His emerald green eyes pleaded with her for a scrap of information.
“I’m sorry love, chocolate telegrams are ordered online through the main store. We don’t want to make any mistakes doing those. I can’t help you with that. I’m sorry.”
“I— understand,” Colin muttered, wondering how he was going to find answers to these burning questions. “Thank you for your time. I guess I will have to find another way to find her.”
“Not to worry, sir. I think she will reveal herself, you’re quite a catch, especially with all the glitter,” she winked, leaving Colin flustered with the compliment. She was already addressing the customer behind him, not waiting for his response.
His heart was teetering between hope and despair. If the gifts were to celebrate friendship, he had a chance with Penelope. If they were more than friendship, he had lost. And he did not know who had sent these items and if they had arranged for a romantic diner with Penelope.
He went back to Pen’s place, to face the music. If indeed Pen was coming home. On the way he bought a bottle of wine and ordered a pizza to be delivered at 19 o’clock. Though if he was honest, he was not sure if he could eat. His stomach was in knots after realising his feelings for Penelope and the possibility of losing her.
“Oh my god, what happened here?” Penelope exclaimed as she stepped inside the apartment.
“I can explain,” Colin hurried towards the door, where he wanted to wrap his arms around Penelope, but he could not. She did not know how he felt about her. The thought that she would withdraw from his embrace was enough to make him sigh.
Penelope gave him an odd look. “What’s with all the glitter, did you crash a birthday party?”
“You better sit down,” Colin placed his hand in the small of her back and guided her towards the living room, where his colourful bouquet had found a place next to the yellow flowers.
“Glass of wine?” Colin offered.
“Do I need one?” Penelope sighed, looking at the glitter on Colin’s face, hair and hands. And the living room floor. “Why don’t you just explain to me what happened—. What is the meaning of all this?“ as she gestured from the flowers to the envelope tucked against the wall.
“Eh, you got some yellow roses delivered this morning,” Colin started, handing her the envelope from the bouquet. “I read the message,” Colin continued, shuffling his feet.
“You did what?” Penelope uttered, taking Colin’s glass of wine and taking a large gulp. She opened the envelope, read the message and smiled. She bent forward and sniffed the roses. “These are lovely.”
Colin decided not to repeat himself but to continue confessing his other atrocities. “Then, you got chocolate,” he offered her the box of chocolate, the broken seal visible.
Penelope’s glance went from the seal to Colin’s eyes, her mouth agape. “I don’t believe this—.“
She opened the lid and read the telegram, took one of the pink hearts and popped it into her mouth. “Hmmm, this is delicious. But I still don’t understand why. Why would you open this when it was not addressed to you? And you did not even take one yourself—.” She looked him up and down, “You’re not ill, are you?”
“Oh no, no, I’m not. But please let me continue,” Colin pleaded.
“This better be good,” Penelope said before she popped another chocolate into her mouth.
“I, eh—,” Colin started, raking a hand through his ruffled hair, spreading pink glitter. “It took me a while to realise they were Valentine gifts. And I wondered who was sending you these gifts.”
“And you could no longer contain your curiosity and you opened them?” Penelope continued. “I still don’t get why?”
“Because—, because I realised I was jealous,” Colin said.
“Because I got Valentine gifts and you didn’t?”
“That’s not what I am saying, at all.” Colin sounded desperate.
“Then what are you saying? You’re not making sense.”
“I realised you had someone who cared for you, who sent you gifts on this romantic day. And I was jealous of that person—. I want to be the one to send you gifts, I want to be the one to come home to you, the one to take you out for dinner. I want you—,“ Colin came closer, “Because I love you.”
“Don’t say things you do not mean,” Penelope gasped.
“But I do mean it. I spent all day trying to figure out who sent you those gifts. I haven’t been able to eat at all, my stomach in knots for fear of losing you.” His stomach churned as a reminder that this was important and he should continue.
“I needed to know if they were worthy of you. But I failed. So, if you tell me there is someone in your life, someone who makes your heart soar, then please forget I said anything.”
“But I don’t want to forget it—. This is everything I have ever wanted you to say to me, because I have loved you since the moment we met, a silly infatuation that grew into something more with every year.” Penelope closed the distance between them, throwing herself into his embrace.
She rubbed some glitter from his cheek, only to realise it was rather stuck. “Hmm, this might be a problem.”
“I don’t care—,” Colin started, “But I do care about those gifts. Who is your secret Valentine?” He leaned back, searching her eyes.
“They are from Eloise,” Penelope grinned.
“Yellow roses signify friendship,” Colin whispered. He should have thought of his sister as the good friend. He had met Penelope first, but she and Eloise had soon after bonded over their love for books.
“They do? So what does the other bouquet symbolise? They are from you, are they not?” Penelope asked.
“Indeed they are. All the reds are some form of love, from passionate to true love. The white chrysanthemum is a symbol for joy and enduring love.”
“And the lavender?”
“A committed relationship, but also to calm my nerves,” Colin chuckled. “I was afraid I had already lost you after reading your Valentine messages. Especially that telegram got me worried.”
“It’s what El used to say to me after a night out and she had realised not all men are gents. She often mentioned how we should just forget about men and grow old together. I guess now that her relationship with Phillip is blossoming, she wants me to know our friendship is forever.”
Penelope grinned. “I also may have mentioned to Eloise last week I had never received a gift for Valentine’s Day. She could not believe it and I guess she wanted me to feel included.”
“Hmmm, I guess I have her to thank for opening my eyes.” Colin grabbed Pen’s hand, placed the other in the small of her back and started dancing in the living room. “I am sorry for not acknowledging my feelings for you sooner.”
“There is no need. There is nothing in the world that makes me happier than being with you,” Penelope murmured against his chest.
“TRINNNNNNNNG!”
Colin checked the clock, “Ah, right on time.”
“What is it?” Penelope looked from Colin to the front door.
“I have opened that door three times today, so now it is your turn.” He grinned and Penelope did as she was told, Colin hot on her heels.
“Pepperoni pizza for Penelope,” the pizza courier handed her the box.
“That box is rather big,” Penelope said as she accepted it.
“I just told you I haven’t eaten all day, let’s get it inside,” Colin’s stomach took that moment to growl.
They sat on the couch, the pizza box on the little table in front of them. Colin poured Penelope a glass of wine and topped up his own glass. “Go ahead, open it.”
Penelope tipped the lid back and started laughing; the pepperoni was arranged to spell “BE MINE?”.
“You truly know the way to my heart—,“ she said as she tore off a piece and handed it over.
“And you. But is that a yes?”
“Yes, yes, it is.”