“I really can’t remember the last time Mrs Bream missed church, can you, Mrs Hobbs?” asked a tall, thin elderly lady.
A short, plump elderly lady answered her. “No, Mrs Dawkins, I cannot. It would be awful if something has happened. The service just wasn’t the same without her.”
“I know, Mrs Hobbs. It was marvellous,” and they both giggled.
“I’d be so upset, I’d have to drown my sorrows in champagne,” she chuckled. “And she did the flowers so beautifully this week.” They both looked at the large display on a wooden pedestal, to the right of the altar. “Dahlias, roses and lilies, straight from her garden.”
Mrs Dawkins tutted. “Mind you, I thought everyone knew that yellow roses are unlucky.”
“My mother always said, ‘A lily and a yellow rose, out the window good luck goes’. You would ha
