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

by Emma Davies

  And the strangest thing was that Daisy did.

  16

  Saturday 14th December

  Eleven shopping days until Christmas

  ‘Good morning!’

  Bea’s greeting was as cheerful as ever as Daisy pushed open the door to Buchanans the next morning. She was even earlier than usual, knowing that the day was going to be incredibly busy, but pleased to see that Bea had also made sure she arrived in good time. Bea usually covered for either her or Kit when it was their Saturdays off and Daisy always looked forward to their chats before the shop opened.

  ‘I’ve made your tea,’ said Bea, popping a sugared mouse into her mouth. ‘And eaten far too many of these so, before we get down to anything else, can I suggest that you remove this from me and hide it for the remainder of the day.’ She handed Daisy the box of festive treats.

  Daisy grinned. There was nothing to Bea, and she would eat sweets all day if anyone let her. She went through to the back to deposit her bag and coat and change out of her boots. The streets in the town had been cleared of snow, but it was still thick down by the canal. Ready for work, she returned to claim her cuppa gratefully. She had got up in good time, but somehow she had dithered and fussed about and, before she knew it, it had been time to leave and she’d barely managed her breakfast, let alone a drink. She knew why of course – it had been the same reason she’d been unable to sleep. But with any luck they would be rushed off their feet today and Daisy would have no time at all to think about Kit.

  ‘Right, I’ll make a start on the cases, shall I?’ she asked Bea. ‘I think we should put the platinum diamond collection in the centre for today, don’t you? I mean, if we can’t sell it at this time of year, when can we? And I’m going to change the cushions if that’s okay, the purple I thought, and—’ She broke off, aware that Bea was staring at her. ‘But we don’t have to, of course, I…’

  Bea was grinning. ‘First things first, young lady,’ she said. ‘As always, your judgement as far as the business goes is impeccable and yes, we should absolutely do as you suggest. However, do you really think you can come in here this morning and not tell me a single thing about your days out? Heavens, I’ve hardly seen you all week. Come on, I want details…’

  Daisy groaned. ‘Do I have to?’ she replied, sighing. But then she frowned. ‘Anyway, isn’t that breaking the rules a bit? I mean, if I tell you what’s been going on won’t that influence your decision about the competition?’

  But Bea just laughed. ‘Don’t be silly. I won’t know what piece of jewellery any of the boys is going to choose for you, will I? No, I just want to know how things have gone. You know, how well they got to know you, if you got on… that kind of thing.’

  There was a definite twinkle in Bea’s eye that Daisy didn’t like one little bit.

  ‘But I haven’t had all my days out yet,’ protested Daisy. ‘So I can’t really tell you how everything went.’

  ‘Bertie and Lawrence then,’ said Bea, pouting. ‘You can tell me about them. Start with Bertie.’

  Daisy wasn’t going to be let off, that much was clear, and past experience had told her that there was no point in arguing with Bea when she was in this mood.

  ‘So Bertie took me to the Winter Wonderland in Nottingham,’ she began. ‘Which was lovely. Very festive and, I thought, a pretty good place to go for a day out. It was fun, and he was a very considerate companion. I enjoyed it,’ she added as an afterthought.

  ‘Yes, yes, but what did you think about Bertie?’

  ‘Bea, I can’t tell you that! How is that possibly fair?’ Even though it was nearly a week ago, the images from her day out with Bertie were still very clear in her head. As were their conversations. Perhaps most important had been the realisation that she would be very happy to have Bertie run the shop, or at least she had been up until last night… But she couldn’t give Bea any indication of who she thought should run the business, that wouldn’t be fair to any of them. She felt the weight of responsibility that Bea had placed on her lying heavy on her shoulders.

  ‘All I can say, is that we had some conversations which I think Bertie might find quite useful going forward. It was an opportunity for him to take stock and so I’m sure that Bertie has been thinking very carefully about what he wants to do. In any case he has a friend who runs his own business, doesn’t he? I met Luka and he seemed the sort who would be only too happy to help. I’m sure Bertie could go to him for advice if he’s successful.’

  Daisy took another mouthful of tea, signalling the conversation was at an end.

  Bea rolled her eyes dramatically. ‘I hardly consider that a full answer,’ she said. ‘But I suppose you’re right in that it wouldn’t be fair for you to tell me what you think about Bertie’s suitability as far as Buchanans is concerned. Though I am glad to hear that he is taking the competition seriously.’ She touched a hand to her hair, her rings sparkling in the bright lights. ‘So now, how about Lawrence?’

  ‘Well you already know where he took me,’ challenged Daisy.

  ‘Of course I do. Lawrence has very little imagination where certain things are concerned, but I hope that the day was a success nonetheless?’

  Daisy was tempted to ask her which part of the day she meant; some parts had been rather more successful than others.

  ‘I’ve never been to Harrods,’ she said. ‘So that in itself was a change for me. London at Christmastime too… goodness, the windows were…’ She trailed off, wondering how to phrase her feelings; she didn’t want to lie. ‘Well, they were quite extraordinary. And of course Lawrence showed me the fine jewellery room. I had no idea that Buchanans was modelled on it.’

  ‘A fact that is completely lost on the inhabitants of our little town. Lawrence’s idea, naturally.’

  Daisy frowned. ‘But he made it sound as if you were really keen on the idea.’

  ‘It appeals to my sense of irony,’ replied Bea. ‘And I find it quite amusing, but I never thought it was going to make us the sure-fire success that Lawrence seemed to think it would.’

  ‘Oh…’ Daisy was rather taken aback by her words. She had always thought that Bea had the last word on everything, and yet, from the way she described it, she had simply indulged Lawrence. It was something that seemed to happen far too often in Daisy’s opinion.

  ‘Shall I let you into a little secret, Daisy dear?’ When she nodded, Bea continued. ‘It’s no secret that I love London and all that it has to offer. But have you ever wondered why I choose to make my home here?’

  Daisy was tempted to say because it was cheaper, but she knew that probably wasn’t of concern to Bea.

  ‘You see, I was only young when I met the boys’ father and for a young girl like me who had hopes of going on the stage it was a dream come true. William was terribly well connected and we got invited to all the best parties, the shows, the opera. It was like dressing-up and playing pretend all the time, and I loved it.’

  Bea paused to give Daisy a twinkling smile. ‘I still do, as you are probably well aware. But… it is also incredibly wearing to do it all the time. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t regret any of it for a minute but, particularly as I’ve got older, I’ve realised that it’s only a part of me and the other part needs feeding too, on trees and fresh air and going the whole day without doing your makeup, making fried-egg sandwiches and sitting in your pyjamas until noon. So that’s why I have never lived in London.’

  ‘But Charles? I thought he was—’

  ‘Something big in the city?’ interrupted Bea. ‘Or a playboy perhaps? No, he doesn’t even live in London. Charles is a farmer, actually.’

  ‘Never!’

  Bea grinned at Daisy’s astonished face. ‘It’s easy to make assumptions, isn’t it? But in fact, not everyone is as you might first imagine.’

  No, Daisy was beginning to realise that.

  ‘And so when Charles and I move out to Spain, we’re going to live on an olive farm and spend our days walking and watching sunsets, and becomin
g incredibly tanned and wrinkly no doubt.’

  Happiness was oozing out of Bea’s every pore. Daisy couldn’t quite believe it, but she could see how utterly in love with the idea she was.

  ‘Do the boys know about all this?’

  ‘No.’ Bea laughed. ‘I should imagine it’s going to come as something of a shock… perhaps not so much to Kit, but…’

  There was something about the way that Bea said his name that caught Daisy’s attention. She had always wondered why Kit was so quiet in comparison to the rest of the family, and why he was so unlike them. Daisy had assumed that he had inherited his traits from his father but now, hearing Bea, perhaps he was a chip off his mother’s block after all. And then something else occurred to her. Something that made her smile a little wickedly.

  ‘Lawrence is going to be astounded by your news,’ she said.

  ‘Yes, isn’t he?’ Bea’s eyes shone with amusement. ‘I probably shouldn’t say this, but I’m rather looking forward to seeing the expression on his face when he finds out. Lawrence has some very endearing qualities, but he’s such a snob. Sometimes I think I’d like to tell him about Monique too. Just for the fun of it. Oh, I’m so naughty.’

  Daisy gave her a puzzled look. ‘Monique?’

  ‘Yes, although that’s not her real name of course.’

  A little thrill of illicit pleasure ran through Daisy. ‘Then what is it?’

  ‘Sarah…’

  ‘No!’ Daisy burst out laughing.

  ‘She’s not from Paris either.’

  Daisy groaned. ‘Go on…’

  ‘Sussex, a little village just outside of Kent.’

  ‘But that’s, that’s… Oh, God, that’s brilliant!’

  ‘It’s also incredibly astute. Personal shoppers can earn a considerable amount of money, particularly at somewhere like Harrods, so, as you might imagine, competition to become one is fierce. Most of them are self-employed and work to contract, so Sarah had to come up with a clever marketing trick that made her stand out from everyone else. And her trick was to become Monique, the oh so chic Parisienne.’

  ‘So really she’s no different from a shop window, or any other type of merchandising. It’s all about selling the aspiration.’

  ‘Exactly. But she’s also very, very good at what she does. And she never makes fun of people. She takes her role very seriously indeed.’

  ‘No wonder I liked her. But she’s still playing them at their own game.’

  ‘Of course, but the very best players know how to play so that everyone wins…’ Bea put her finger to her lips. ‘You mustn’t let on though. No one must ever find out. Which is why I won’t tell Lawrence – he’d probably think it an outrageous deceit and get her the sack.’

  Daisy shook her head. ‘I wouldn’t dream of saying a word.’

  ‘No, I knew I could rely on you.’ She gave Daisy a searching look. ‘Oh, this competition is going to be such fun. Now when are you meeting Kit?’

  Daisy’s head was spinning with all these new revelations. She had almost forgotten she was meeting Kit, and why…

  ‘On Monday night. We’re just having dinner. I did ask him if he wanted to go somewhere for the whole day, but he didn’t seem to want to.’ She would hate for her boss to think she wasn’t offering the same opportunity to each of the brothers. But Bea smiled.

  ‘No, I’m sure in Kit’s case dinner will be just fine.’ She glanced at her watch. ‘Heavens, is that the time, we must get on, man the defences and all that.’ She held out her hand for Daisy’s mug. ‘And I don’t know about you, but I need another of these before we open and then I’ll be ready for anything.’

  She crossed the room and had just got to the door when she stopped and turned. ‘I’d also just like to say how grateful I am to you, Daisy, for everything. I know how much of a trial this has been for you but, I hope, at the end, you will see it’s been worthwhile.’

  And with that Bea disappeared through to the kitchen, leaving Daisy staring at her back in wonderment. Any thoughts she had of asking her just what she meant soon disappeared, however, when she realised that unless she got a move on they wouldn’t get everything done in time before they opened. She hurried to the safe and began to get the day underway.

  The morning passed in a blur, and it wasn’t until Bertie appeared to help out at lunchtime that she realised how quickly the time had gone, or indeed how ready she was for a break. Bea looked equally pleased to see him, but she wouldn’t hear of taking her break first and waved Daisy’s suggestion of it away. Daisy did wonder whether Bea might have wanted a little time to talk to Bertie on his own, but the shop was so busy with customers as she went through to the back room that she quickly dismissed the idea.

  She opened up her lunchbox and pondered its contents. She was hungry but she really wasn’t sure she could eat. The world seemed to be spinning around her so fast that she couldn’t settle to anything. Christmas in the shop often did that to her, it was the adrenaline rush from being so busy. But this year was different. There were so many things to think about and this morning had only added to the list. She had anticipated spending her lunch break sketching out her ideas for Grace’s present, but now she wasn’t sure she would be able to do them justice.

  She was about to get her sketchbook out anyway when she suddenly remembered that Grace’s was not the only necklace she had to make. She should have heard back from her other customer by now. She fished in her handbag for her phone so that she could check for a message, acknowledging that in all likelihood there would be nothing. His delay was probably just an excuse and she would never hear from him again.

  Except that when she looked at her phone there was not one but two messages there. The first was from Kit.

  Hi Daisy. Hope you’ve thawed out after last night. Just wanted to let you know that your car is fine. It was still somewhat wedged this morning, but I went early enough so there was no one else about and was able to retrieve it no problem. Now parked in its usual spot, and have posted the keys through your letter box. Hope that’s okay, Kit xx

  She couldn’t believe she had actually forgotten all about her car this morning. Bless you, Kit. She read the message again, smiling. Two kisses.

  Clearing her throat she looked at the second message – a notification from her Instagram account.

  NickCarr1: I’m so sorry I didn’t get back to you yesterday, my business overran and I missed my flight. I’ve been wracking my brains all week to think of things to tell you about my girlfriend, but it’s even more difficult than I thought! I could tell you that she makes me feel more alive than anyone I’ve ever known, but how do you make that into a necklace? Or that in certain lights her skin looks like alabaster, so pale that when she arches her neck it makes me want to lay my fingers against her skin to feel her heart beating? That she’s the first thing I think of every morning when I wake up, and the last thing at night, and when she smiles at me it’s like there’s no one else in the room. Sorry, I’m not being any help at all… but she reads a lot, does that help? Also, she doesn’t like frilly stuff, except on flowers (which she loves), no lace, plain colours, that kind of thing, and she’s very tidy… Please ask me anything you think you need to know, maybe I’ll be better at that? Hopelessly, Nick.

  Daisy sat back, staring at her phone. And then she reread the message, her heart lifting at the words. Maybe his message didn’t help her at all, but how could anything be wrong in the world when you had someone who loved you the way Nick did? She thought for a minute, trying to compose a reply, but realised that she couldn’t. She needed a little time to think about things, to let her brain sift through all the information she had and see if it couldn’t come up with an idea. After all, that’s what had happened with Grace’s necklace; she had come up with the design almost without trying. She picked her bag up again and this time she did take out her sketchbook, turning to a fresh page, before rummaging for a pencil.

  With Grace firmly in her mind, she started to sketch, committin
g her ideas to paper with a few light strokes. She was sure what she had in mind would work, it was just a question of getting the design elements balanced so that the piece sat properly. She added another detail and then paused, tapping the end of her pencil against her teeth. She wasn’t thinking about Grace now at all, but of her wreath, and how the jewellery she had made to sit at its centre allowed it to be a part of something else. Because something else had been brewing in the back of her mind since the day she had gone on the course at Hope Corner Farm. Framed on the wall of the old cow shed had been a series of Flora’s prints; bold botanical designs and, because they were linocuts, very simple in their execution. It had struck her at the time how easily they could be embellished.

  She turned a new page and sketched a quick image of a daisy that she remembered from one of the prints. Might she be able to make a simple pendant, for example? Replicating an element of the design and then adding it to the print so that it could be removed if necessary; much as she had designed the brooch at the centre of her wreath. That way the jewellery became so much more than just a pendant and the picture became so much more than just a print.

  The excitement was bubbling inside of her. She was on to something, she knew she was. She thought back to the words from Nick’s message, and the perfect idea came to her. She sketched it quickly in case it evaporated during the course of the busy afternoon ahead, and then she stared at the sketches she had made. Oh my God, they could be gorgeous! She shot a glance at the clock and picked up her phone.

  Hi Nick, thanks for your message. Actually you’ve been more help than I think you could possibly have realised. I’m at work just now so can’t give you all the details yet, but I actually do have some ideas! Can you leave it with me until later tonight and I hope to be able to send you some sketches then. Hopefully, Daisy.