Everand Logo

Welcome to Everand!

  • Discover millions of ebooks, audiobooks, and so much more with a free trial

    Only $11.99/month after trial. Cancel anytime.

    The Flower Shop on Prinsengracht
    The Flower Shop on Prinsengracht
    The Flower Shop on Prinsengracht
    Ebook94 pages1 hour

    The Flower Shop on Prinsengracht

    By Rachel Bowdler

    4.5/5

    ()

    Switch to audiobook
    Read preview

    About this ebook

    Though it lies unassuming above the Prinsengracht canal in Amsterdam, a beloved flower shop soon becomes the center of everything for four young couples trying to find their way in the world as the end of summer approaches. In these contemporary romantic stories, plans change, and people with them, as they discover that sometimes all it takes to begin again is a bunch of flowers and a new face.
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherBryant Street Shorts
    Release dateJun 2, 2020
    ISBN9781094410869
    Author

    Rachel Bowdler

    Rachel Bowdler is a freelance writer, editor, and sometimes photographer from the UK. She spends most of her time away with the faeries. When she is not putting off writing by scrolling through Twitter and binge-watching sitcoms, you can find her walking her dog, painting, and passionately crying about her favourite fictional characters. You can find her on Twitter and Instagram @rach_bowdler.

    Read more from Rachel Bowdler

    Related to The Flower Shop on Prinsengracht

    Related ebooks

    Romantic Comedy For You

    View More
    View More

    Related podcast episodes

    Related articles

    • Article

      The BRACELET

      Jan 30, 2024

      The BRACELET
      6 min read

    • Article

      The BRACELET

      Jun 16, 2021

      The BRACELET
      6 min read

    • Article

      Coffee LOVERS

      Jan 31, 2023

      Coffee LOVERS
      6 min read

    • Article

      THE HOUSE with the BLUE DOOR

      May 7, 2020

      THE HOUSE with the BLUE DOOR
      6 min read

    • Article

      Jack of Knives

      Jun 3, 2021

      WINNER £100 Jennifer is the author of four middle grade children’s novels published by Maverick (writing as Jenny Moore). Her latest book, The Misadventures of Nicholas Nabb, is set during the same period as her winning story and also includes a scen

      6 min read

    • Article

      HEART Of The Community

      Aug 3, 2021

      HEART Of The Community
      12 min read

    • Article

      Advent ANGEL

      Nov 8, 2023

      Advent ANGEL
      6 min read

    • Article

      THE Well-wishers

      Nov 17, 2021

      THE Well-wishers
      3 min read

    • Article

      Echoes

      Jun 22, 2022

      Echoes
      9 min read

    • Article

      The Mr Darcy MYSTERY

      Nov 23, 2022

      The Mr Darcy MYSTERY
      6 min read

    • Article

      The Scarlet PEBBLE

      Feb 28, 2024

      The Scarlet PEBBLE
      9 min read

    • Article

      Out of THE BLUE

      Aug 22, 2023

      Out of THE BLUE
      11 min read

    • Article

      O Fortuna, Velut Luna

      Sep 15, 2018

      What is Miss Treece’s trouble, according to a popular notion? The man A has failed to show up. Arousing herself at the restaurant, she fixes her lipstick when her solo supper concludes and takes herself down the stairs situated behind the bar. There,

      3 min read

    • Article

      The Necklace

      Mar 8, 2021

      A fine silver chain, with a circlet of diamonds. More of a pendant, really. Lydia saw it in one of the glossy magazines left in the reception of the TV channel where they were waiting to pitch. She would never read one of those normally – never had t

      6 min read

    • Article

      Beauty Is In The Eye

      Jul 7, 2020

      Beauty Is In The Eye
      5 min read

    • Article

      A PRECIOUS Moment In Time

      Jun 17, 2019

      There’s something about Lambrook Hall that always draws me back and I’ve lost track of how many times I’ve been here. I don’t really care if it’s hundreds, to be honest. I can’t resist it. I’m in the dining room again now. Not the ballroom or the lib

      6 min read

    • Article

      Out Of The Blue

      Aug 24, 2021

      Out Of The Blue
      11 min read

    • Article

      Rediscover THIS DAY

      Apr 1, 2021

      Rediscover THIS DAY
      4 min read

    • Article

      Rediscover This Day

      Mar 22, 2022

      Rediscover This Day
      4 min read

    • Article

      Open Short Story Winner Tight Situation

      Apr 4, 2024

      When Carol first wakes up, she thinks it must have been a dream. The ringing phone had been distant, muffled as if the landline device had been buried in a bag of something soft like cotton wool - the packing material stuffed so tightly into its bag

      6 min read

    • Article

      Dressing with Care

      Jun 11, 2021

      Dressing with Care
      6 min read

    • Article

      The Glass Ceiling

      Aug 21, 2023

      ‘You’re late.” Evangeline glanced up from her workbench, neck already aching from the intricate creation before her: a hat decorated with no fewer than six hummingbirds, pinned to netting so fine it would look as though the creatures were, indeed, fl

      6 min read

    • Article

      The Doll

      Apr 14, 2022

      The Doll
      5 min read

    • Article

      Little CHARMS

      Oct 19, 2022

      Little CHARMS
      6 min read

    • Article

      Goodwill to All Men

      Jan 7, 2022

      Goodwill to All Men
      5 min read

    • Article

      Where TWO RIVERS MEET

      Apr 3, 2024

      Where TWO RIVERS MEET
      6 min read

    • Article

      Blue ICE

      Dec 12, 2023

      Blue ICE
      6 min read

    • Article

      Echoes

      Jun 29, 2022

      Echoes
      9 min read

    Related categories

    Reviews for The Flower Shop on Prinsengracht

    4.5/5

    14 ratings1 review

    What did you think?

    Tap to rate

    Review must be at least 10 words

    • 5/5
      This is such a sweet story! I’ll never look at sunflowers the same way again.

    Book preview

    The Flower Shop on Prinsengracht - Rachel Bowdler

    Part One: Sunflowers for Katrien

    The pile of unanswered postcards from Rowan grew taller every day. Today’s was from Bruges: a standard Wish you were here! in his messy penciled scrawl on the back. Nell had tried to reply to them a dozen times, but each time she pulled the pen from her apron when the flower shop quieted after lunch, her fingers froze and the English language seemed to drop out of her head like the browning petals that wilted from their stems and curled miserably on the discount shelf in the corner. She could not even bring herself to try this time, opening the bottom drawer behind the counter and throwing it in with the rest of them before she could talk herself out of it or let the guilt find her again.

    The sound of the bell above the door tinkling was a welcome respite, and she raised her head, unsurprised to find a red-haired girl stepping into the shop. A halo of sunlight tried to slip in behind her, but she shut it out quickly.

    Nell checked her wristwatch: thirty-four minutes past three. She was four minutes late. Like clockwork, the customer headed straight for the sunflowers on the back wall, plucking the brightest one from the bucket without humoring any of the other flowers around her. The girl was disheveled today, Nell noticed, as she turned around and approached the counter, her hair tufting and curling wherever it pleased and her black trousers stained with what Nell hoped was coffee. Nell had gathered from the countless times the girl had left her apron tied around her waist that she probably worked as a waitress, but where, she knew not — and hadn’t found it in herself to ask. It was the girl’s green eyes that always stopped her, with their quiet and intimidating intensity. They wouldn’t stop her today, though; Nell had planned her speech ahead of time, and as she punched the numbers into the cash register, she took her cue.

    Unwavering devotion.

    It had sounded better in her head… and in her head, there hadn’t been an awkward silence to follow.

    The girl had been rooting through her bag, but stopped now, coins rattling in her hand, to look up bemusedly. Excuse me?

    It’s what they mean. Nell nodded to the sunflower as the girl dropped the money into her outstretched palm. She no longer needed to ask if she wanted it wrapped in paper: the answer was always no. To give somebody a sunflower means to love them as the sunflowers love the sun — you know, because they follow the sun’s path.

    Oh. I see. The girl tilted her head with a frown as she put away her purse. She was Dutch, her accent lilting — Nell didn’t know why she was surprised at that, what with them being in the center of Amsterdam. Even after a gap year spent traveling, she still expected those she met to reply with the same British accent as hers. It had been months since she had heard anything close. It makes sense.

    Nell nodded, heat rising to her cheeks as she realized how silly she must have sounded.

    The girl picked up the sunflower, giving Nell a small nod. Thank you.

    No problem. Nell pasted a polite smile on her face. Enjoy the rest of your day.

    She was already halfway out the door when Nell said it, but still, she turned, offering a ghost of a smile before she left and let the painted yellow door fall shut behind her.

    As she did every afternoon at a few minutes past three thirty, Nell watched the girl place the sunflower in her bike basket and hop onto the seat, blinding sunlight gleaming across the canal behind her.

    Section Break

    She was early the next day.

    Nell had been slouching on the counter, a headache forming behind her eyes. After weeks of working in the shop, she still found the sweet scent of the flowers to be overwhelming.

    She straightened as the girl entered, retrieved her sunflower, and came over to pay. She wasn’t in work uniform today, her hair falling in frizzy tendrils across her freckled face and a ripped denim jacket thrown over a floral summer dress, replacing her usual white shirt and black trousers. Her mood seemed the better for it: she was already smiling as she placed the sunflower on the counter.

    Two euros, please, Nell said, if only for something to say.

    The coins were warm as they fell into Nell’s hand. I told my grandmother what you said… about the sunflowers, I mean.

    Nell’s eyebrows arched in surprise as she dispensed the money into the cash register. Yeah? What did she say?

    She said that she knew already. She chuckled, shuffling on her feet as the sunlight dripped through the window and onto her, lining her with its glow. She’s a know-it-all, my grandmother, even now.

    Is that whom the flowers are for? Nell cursed herself as soon as the words left her lips: too personal, too nosy.

    The girl nodded, though, glad to volunteer the information. Yes. You must have thought I was a crazy person, coming in here for just one sunflower every day.

    I did wonder. Nell laughed. She must really love them, to be given so many.

    The girl hesitated, twisting the stem between her fingers. There is a story behind them for her.

    The sharp edge of the counter dug into Nell’s hip as she leaned forward, resting her hands in the pocket of her green apron. Really?

    The girl hummed a yes, knitting her eyebrows together. Every day that they were in season, my grandfather, when he was alive, would go for a walk along the Prinsengracht in the morning and come back with a sunflower for my grandmother; every day until he could no longer walk.

    That’s.… She was at a loss, mouth opening and closing in a silent plea for words. That’s lovely. I’m sorry for your loss.

    The girl nodded, making no move to leave as she usually did.

    And now you’ve taken his place? You take a sunflower for her every day?

    Yes, she answered softly, and every time I walk through the red door across the canal, her face lights up just the same as when he lived. If I turn up with tulips in the spring, or roses in winter, she looks at me as though I were a stranger.

    I’m sorry, Nell said, and meant it. It’s a shame that sunflowers aren’t in season all year round.

    The girl shrugged. I don’t think they would be so special to her, then.

    The weight of those green eyes fell to Nell, squinting in the sun and yet still too much, too bright, to look at. Anyway, I am babbling and she is waiting for me. Thank you.

    Of course. Enjoy the rest of your day. Nell smiled, chest aching as the girl turned her back and disappeared. She checked her watch: forty-one minutes past three.

    She was already wishing for three thirty tomorrow.

    Section Break

    The sunflower lay untouched on the counter, already drooping in the oppressive July heat as Sofie — Nell had learned her name only yesterday — told Nell another story about her grandmother. It had become routine, now:

    Enjoying the preview?
    Page 1 of 1