The Secrets of Flowers by Sally Page

 The smallest treasures can hold the biggest mysteries…

One year after her husband’s death Emma has become a wallflower, hiding among the brighter blooms in the florist where she works.

But when a colleague invites her to a talk on the Titanic, she begins a quest to uncover who arranged the flowers on board.

As Emma discovers the lost story of the girl and the great ship, she realises that flowers may unlock long buried secrets in her own life…

Will she be able to unlock the mystery of the Titanic and heal her heart too?

Escape into the world of Sally Page with the perfect summer read for a weekend away or cosying up in your favourite armchair! From the author of phenomenal bestsellers The Keeper of Stories and The Book of Beginnings comes another novel that will warm your heart.

Book Review

✰✰✰✰✰

The Secrets of Flowers” feels like sitting down with someone who’s genuinely interested in people—their hurts, their hesitations, and all the small moments that make a life. Sally Page has this gentle way of writing that doesn’t rush you; it’s almost as if she’s inviting you to stroll through the story the same way you’d wander through a garden, stopping to notice things you might normally miss.

What struck me most was how the book makes flowers more than decoration. They’re clues, metaphors, emotional shorthand. The characters use them to say the things they can’t quite articulate, and you start reading the blooms almost the way you’d read someone’s face. It adds this quiet layer of meaning to scenes that would otherwise feel straightforward.

The relationships are the heart of the novel—tender, sometimes awkward, often healing. Page has a knack for creating characters who feel real without forcing them to be quirky or tragic for the sake of it. They’re simply people who’ve lived long enough to have regrets, which makes their small acts of courage feel earned.

It’s not a plot-heavy book, so if you’re looking for big twists, you won’t find them here. Instead, it gives you that warm, steady feeling of watching someone slowly reopen a window they’d kept shut for years. By the end, you’re left with a sense of quiet hope, the kind that comes from realizing that starting over doesn’t have to be dramatic—it can be gentle, almost imperceptible, like a bud opening.

Overall, it’s the kind of read you reach for when you want comfort with depth, a story that feels soft but still says something.