The Little Shop on Silver Linings Street: An absolutely unforgettable Christmas romance

by Emma Davies

  Daisy frowned as the shop doorbell tinkled, admitting another customer; not for the first time that afternoon, she willed Mr Bennett to hurry up and make up his mind. He would buy the necklace, he always bought whatever she recommended, but the process could not be rushed, and there was a certain reverence to his visits which occurred three times a year, and had done for as long as Daisy had worked at Buchanans. Each May, for his wife’s birthday, every September for their anniversary and at Christmastime, Mr Bennett would visit the shop and select a gift of jewellery and, while he was a very good customer, Daisy already knew all about him and his wife. The young couple, however, were still a closed book as far as their love story was concerned, its pages to be plundered.

  She handed the necklace to Mr Bennett so that he could scrutinise it one more time and smiled at him expectantly. His eye returned to the midnight-blue velvet pillow that lay on the counter in front of him, where several other almost identical necklaces lay. He would pick them all up again, put them down and then repeat the process a couple more times, and all the while she would wait patiently, knowing that the young couple could slip away from her at any minute.

  She glanced across at the man who had just entered the shop. He was wandering the counters, peering down at their contents with a bewildered expression on his face. He was not used to being in a jewellery shop at all, that was easy to see. Distinctly uncomfortable… Perhaps she could excuse herself from Mr Bennett for just one moment and offer her help. She took a step to one side and was about to say something in greeting when Kit looked up in surprise as if suddenly realising where he was and beat her to it.

  ‘I’ll take this one,’ said Mr Bennett.

  Daisy nodded, looking back to see that he had indeed chosen the very necklace she had suggested, but she smiled and told him that he had made an excellent choice, just as she always did. She took the pendant from him and withdrew its presentation box from under the counter, carefully nestling the gem inside before holding it up for inspection one last time. Then she closed the lid decisively.

  ‘Do come over to the desk,’ she said, trying to listen to what was being said to Kit. She ushered Mr Bennett to a seat and took the one opposite, pulling the sales pad towards her. Buchanans had never operated a till in the shop. Bea said that was far too common, so sales were handwritten and the customer provided with a proper written receipt. Then again, Mr Bennett was just about to hand over one and a half thousand pounds, so perhaps he did deserve a little more than a torn-off slip of paper.

  Kit was shaking his head. ‘A flower, did you say? Um…’ He looked vaguely around the shop. ‘I don’t think we have anything like that really. What sort of flower?’

  Daisy rolled her eyes as she wrote. Kit was lovely, but he had no imagination, that was the problem. The shop was full of precious stones, set into rings, bracelets, necklaces, earrings, any one of them could be described as being flower-like… almost… if you knew how to tailor your description of a piece to match the customer’s expectation. She signed the receipt with a flourish and passed it across the desk, holding out her hand for Mr Bennett’s credit card. Just a couple more minutes and then she would be free to attend to the gentleman herself – if he was still around, that was.

  The shop door tinkled again as she got to her feet – the couple had gone – and she glanced at the clock on the wall. It was half past four and dark outside now; she doubted very much that they would see many more customers that afternoon. But short of dragging them in off the street there wasn’t much that Daisy could do.

  ‘Oh, I see… No, sorry, nothing like that…’

  Daisy looked up as Kit spoke again, smiling at his customer who was still looking very unsure. He held her look for a moment and then turned away.

  ‘Well, thanks anyway. It was just a thought.’

  The man nodded at Kit and his bright red boots had almost carried him to the door when he turned back for a moment, his face suddenly transformed by a brilliant smile as he beamed at Daisy.

  ‘Merry Christmas,’ he said. And then he was gone.

  Daisy stared down at the credit-card reader in her hand, momentarily blown off course by the intensity of the stranger’s gaze. They hadn’t even spoken and yet Daisy felt as if she knew him, or, rather curiously, had known him, for a very long time.

  She shook her head, concentrating on the task in hand, and seconds later she was standing by the door, her own face wreathed in smiles.

  ‘And you have a wonderful Christmas too, Mr Bennett, and Mrs Bennett of course. It’s been lovely seeing you as always.’ She held the shop door open for her customer, feeling a blast of frozen air from outside as she did so. She watched him leave, staring after him lost in thought as he disappeared almost immediately into the throng of shoppers.

  With a shiver she closed the door and returned to where Kit had sat back down again, an open book in his hand. She went and stood in front of him.

  ‘Um…?’ she said.

  He looked up, a wary expression crossing his face. It often did whenever she spoke to him directly.

  ‘I think we’re supposed to be asking everyone who comes in if we can help them,’ she said. ‘Like that couple… I think they might have been looking for wedding rings.’

  ‘Were they?’ he gulped. ‘I just thought they wanted to be left alone to browse.’

  Daisy sighed. ‘Well they spent most of their time by that counter,’ she added, pointing. ‘The one where the rings are… You could have asked them.’

  He regarded her for a moment with his pale green eyes, light-brown hair flopping over his face. ‘Well, yes, I suppose I could have done. But I decided that between the two of them, one at least would have asked for help if they needed it.’

  ‘Yes, but sometimes people don’t know what they want, and they need a little encouragement.’

  He dipped his head slightly, in acknowledgement, but not necessarily in agreement, she noticed.

  ‘And what about the other man – the one you did speak to? What did he want? Only if it’s something we don’t have I always like to let Bea know.’ She fidgeted nervously.

  This time it was Kit’s turn to sigh. ‘He didn’t know what he wanted actually… something floral possibly, or botanical, something light…’ He paused for a moment, thinking. ‘Something ethereal was what he actually said.’

  ‘Ethereal?’ Daisy frowned. ‘In a jeweller’s shop?’ She looked around her, grudgingly acknowledging Kit’s difficulty.

  ‘He wondered whether we might be able to make him something,’ added Kit. ‘Although he realised that might be difficult seeing as he had no way of describing what he wanted, only that he would know it when he saw it.’

  Daisy nodded, but by now was no longer listening. If only she hadn’t been busy with Mr Bennett, she might have been able to help the man with the beaming smile. He was after something special, that much was obvious, and she would have loved to find out more. She turned away, a wistful expression on her face. Maybe one day she might be able to help him with a design of her own...

  She could feel Kit’s eyes on her back as she crossed the room to put away the necklaces she had left out. He probably thought her soppy, and she had a sudden cheeky impulse to turn around and stick her tongue out at him to see if she could make him laugh. But she daren’t; he was Bea’s son, after all. A glance at the clock confirmed that the afternoon was coming to a close and she automatically collected the glass polish from under the counter so that she could clear away the greasy smudges from the display cabinets in readiness for the following day.

  Daisy was just about to start on the second cabinet when the doorbell’s jolly tinkle announced another customer. Except it wasn’t a customer, it was Bertie. Twice in as many days was unheard of.

  ‘Is Bea here yet?’ he asked without even so much as a hello. The slightly forced lightness in his tone made Daisy’s ears prick up.

  ‘No, should she be?’

  Bertie checked his watch. ‘She’s popping in appar
ently.’ He shivered. ‘God, it’s raw out there today. I don’t suppose it’s anything other than a rallying the troops speech, and her annual inspection of the Christmas decorations, which look superb as usual, Daisy.’

  Kit wasn’t fooled either. ‘And the fact that she chooses to do it the day after you provided her with sales figures is a coincidence, is it?’ His eyes narrowed. ‘What’s going on, Bertie?’

  He shrugged. ‘Nothing that I’m aware of. Sales are down, but you know that, it’s not a secret. I think it’s more a case of Mother wanting us all to pull together on this one. Not something we’re especially good at, as well you know. She’s asked Lawrence to drop in too, lend some weight to the argument and all that.’

  Kit’s head shot up. ‘Lawrence is coming in?’ He rolled his eyes. ‘Oh, fantastic… Never mind the weight, but we can certainly count on him to lend the argument.’

  Daisy ignored him even though he was right. Lawrence was the eldest Buchanan brother, an arrogant bully who treated her with very little respect most of the time. Not like Bertie, who at least acknowledged that she did do some things right.

  ‘Are you really sure that’s all it is?’ she asked anxiously.

  Bertie was about to answer when Lawrence strode in, looking most put out at having to make an appearance. He was much taller than his brothers, his height accentuated by his formal suit and long, imposing overcoat, which flapped about his legs as he walked. He nodded at both Kit and Bertie and then, sweeping the room with a critical gaze, he focused his attention on Daisy. He opened his mouth to say something and then thought better of it, instead carrying on through into the back room.

  ‘I do hope that someone has bought some decent coffee,’ came his voice through the door.

  ‘No, I…’ Daisy looked anxiously at Bertie. That was normally her job, but she’d had no idea that everyone would be coming in today and wasn’t at all prepared. In fact, she wasn’t sure there would even be enough milk left.

  Bertie raised a placatory hand and disappeared after his brother, leaving Kit staring at her, his expression unreadable. She turned away and continued with her polishing.

  Bea arrived moments later, dressed for the Arctic, her habitual tweed trouser suit topped with a plum-coloured cloak, its deep fur ruff matching the mittens she also wore. Despite her diminutive size she cut an imposing figure, jet-black hair piled high on her head, held with any number of diamante clips. They gleamed under the bright lights as her piercing blue eyes swept the room.

  ‘Daisy,’ she said, smiling broadly. ‘You’ve done a marvellous job, as always. It all looks quite delightful.’

  Daisy smiled, thankful at least for the normality of the greeting from Bea. She was about to add her agreement when the door to the back room opened and Bertie and Lawrence stepped through. She groaned inwardly. Judging by the uneasy atmosphere and the fact that all three brothers were present at once, it could only mean one thing. Bea was about to make an announcement.

  Bea’s announcements were always highly theatrical and invariably meant more work for Daisy. Work which supposedly would be shared, but which somehow only ever fell to her to put into practice. As the eldest brother, Lawrence was particularly good at bending Bea’s ear but, because he rarely stepped foot on the shop floor and his ideas had no grounding in experience, they usually came to naught, despite Daisy’s best efforts.

  Daisy looked across at Kit who was standing a little awkwardly, a watchful eye on his brothers. She realised why as she took in the expressions on their faces. There was none of the usual arrogance that Lawrence displayed, and Bertie looked most sombre. In fact, they looked bewildered to have found themselves called to a meeting at all, which meant that they also had no idea what Bea was going to say… Daisy’s heart began to beat a little faster.

  Bea pulled her mittens from her hands and swung her cloak from her shoulders, dumping everything on top of one of the counters. She placed a hand reverently on the glass and then looked about her with an expression of wonder. Her fingers lifted from the counter and, as if she were a small child exploring a magical kingdom for the first time, she glided around the room, touching here, and stroking there. Small gasps and sighs punctuated her movements until she had completed a full circuit of the room and was back where she started, standing in front of the Christmas tree. She raised both arms in the air, looking at her audience expectantly, her bright blue eyes sparkling with excitement.

  ‘Oh, I shall miss all of this!’ she announced, her face lit by an enormous smile.

  Daisy was so busy watching the theatrics of the show Bea was putting on for them that she almost missed what she had said.

  ‘Why, where are you going?’ Daisy couldn’t remember when she had last seen Bea so animated.

  Bea’s eyes twinkled even brighter as she looked from one expectant face to the next. ‘I’m going to retire!’ she said gleefully. ‘After Christmas. Charles and I are going to live in Spain.’

  Daisy looked at Kit, who was white as a sheet, and then at Lawrence. As the eldest brother he normally assumed the role of spokesperson for the family, but she could tell that this had come as much of a shock to him as it was to her. Daisy opened her mouth to speak but Lawrence beat her to it.

  ‘Who the bloody hell is Charles?’ he said, glaring at his mother and looking at Bertie for clues. But even Bertie, the unacknowledged favourite, looked stricken.

  Bea drew herself up. ‘Charles is my new beau,’ she replied. ‘He has asked me to marry him and move to Spain, and I have agreed.’

  ‘Since when?’ exploded Lawrence. ‘This is utterly ridiculous, Mother. None of us even know who this man is—’ He broke off to glare at Daisy. ‘Oh, I bet you knew though, didn’t you?’ he accused her.

  Daisy shook her head rapidly, wondering why it felt as if her whole world had suddenly fallen apart.

  Lawrence looked across at Bertie and Kit and, receiving confirmation that neither of them knew anything about Bea’s new boyfriend either, turned back to his mother. ‘Well how long have you known him? You can’t just up sticks and disappear like that.’

  But Bea had held up her hand for silence, excitement still gleaming in her eyes, but framed with a steely determination Daisy knew of old.

  ‘And this, Lawrence, is precisely why I didn’t tell you. Because, I knew you would react in exactly this way and, quite frankly, it’s none of your business.’ She looked at each of her children in turn. ‘As you know I have been on my own for eighteen years since your father died and, in that time, I have had very little in the way of male company. Bringing you up and running the business has taken all of my energy but, as you are also very well aware, I am sixty on New Year’s Eve and the time has come to put my own needs first.’ She smiled at Daisy. ‘Don’t look so worried, dear, everything is going to be all right.’

  Daisy failed to see how it could be. Buchanans was all she had known since she left school, and Beatrice Buchanan her only boss, and possibly the only real friend she had ever had. What on earth would she do now? And who would run the business? Her head was filling with questions but Lawrence was, as always, one step ahead.

  ‘Mother,’ he said firmly. ‘I’m sure none of us begrudges you a life outside of this place. Nor do we discount the sacrifices you have made in looking after us all these years, but to say it’s none of our business… For goodness’ sake, it’s absolutely our business; we’re standing in the middle of it. You can’t just give this all up on a whim because of some fly-by-night romance and—’

  Bea silenced him with a withering look. ‘For your information I have known Charles since before your father and I were married. In fact, had things turned out a little differently…’ She paused. ‘Well, they didn’t, and so I married your father and we were happy right up until the day he died. And I never told any of you about Charles because, if I had, it might have made things somewhat awkward for him. But we kept in touch, and when, two years ago, he found himself in, well let’s just say in a different personal situation,
we rekindled our friendship.’

  ‘Two years!’ Bertie’s indignant tone rang out around the shop. ‘You’ve been seeing him for two years and you didn’t bother to tell any of us about him.’

  ‘I chose not to tell you, Bertie. There’s a difference.’ She glanced at the clock on the wall and then nodded at Daisy. ‘It’s five o’clock, dear,’ she said. ‘Perhaps you could turn the sign to closed now and lock the door. I’d rather we weren’t interrupted.’

  Daisy did as she was asked, walking back to stand behind the counter on trembling legs.

  ‘So, as I was saying,’ continued Bea. ‘Charles is not someone I have only just met, about whom I know nothing. Neither is he the scoundrel you all seem to be implying, and I have already made up my mind about our future arrangements so there’s really no point in discussing it further.’ She smiled directly at Daisy. ‘What we do need to discuss, however, are the arrangements for the continuation of the business.’ She smoothed down the jacket of her suit and patted the back of her hair to check that all was in place.

  ‘Perhaps we should go through to the back,’ she continued. ‘So that we might be a little more comfortable. I have one or two things more to say.’

  Daisy sneaked a peek at the brothers – at Kit who looked like he was about to be sick, at Bertie who was staring at his mother open-mouthed, and at Lawrence who was bright red and seemingly about to explode. Daisy had no idea how she was feeling. She was used to Bea being rather eccentric, but she had never acted quite so peculiarly before. How had the afternoon changed from being one of fairly mundane routine to one of utter chaos all in the space of half an hour?

  Daisy waited until everyone had filed past her and then picked up the bottle of glass polish. She had a feeling that the meeting would go on for quite some time and she might as well get on and clean while she could. She was about to spray the surface of the counter nearest to her when Bea’s voice floated back through the doorway.