Daisy's Christmas Gift Shop

by Hannah Pearl

  Chapter Nine

  Lily offered to call in sick and stay with me instead of going to work, but I didn’t want to get her into trouble. She was reluctant to leave, and promised to call later that evening, but I told her that I was going to keep busy and not wallow in self-pity any more. She didn’t believe me. The red eyes and sniffly nose were probably a pretty strong clue that I wasn’t at my best, but nonetheless she left without another word when I shooed her out the door.

  Back inside, I turned the sign on my shop to read ‘closed’, stripped the sheets off my bed and took them upstairs to Dad’s house to wash them. I treated myself to a long hot bath at the same time, and after setting the laundry to tumble dry, I went back down to brave my own flat again. I remade the bed with a batch of the new sheets that I’d bought at the trade show. I shouldn’t really have used them, they were Egyptian cotton and hideously expensive, but I wanted to remove the scent and memory of having Eli in my bed.

  Seeing the bed looking luxurious and clean made me realise what a muddle the rest of the room was in. I straightened piles of books, folded clean clothes and put them away, and found a discarded mug under a nightie on the floor. I couldn’t remember how long it had been there, and it kick-started me into a full cleaning binge. By the time Lily phoned me a couple of hours later, I’d scrubbed my flat and was wondering what to clean next.

  The doorbell rang just as I was bleaching my tiny bathroom. I bumped my head on the sink in surprise, and peeked out the window to see who it might be. There was a young man in motorbike leathers stood waiting, and for a split second I wondered if Lily had sent him to cheer me up, though it was the kind of surprise that she would prefer more than I would. Finally, I realised that he was holding a flat box, at least eighteen inches from side to side.

  I stripped off the yellow gloves I’d been wearing and sprinted down to open the door. ‘You have the wrong address,’ I told him, but as the wafts of cheese and tomato hit my nose my mouth began to water and I wished that I had been organised enough to phone in an order.

  He reached into his pocket for a piece of paper and read my address from it. ‘Super large Veg supreme,’ he said. ‘Already been paid for, receipt says it was ordered by a Miss Lily?’

  I thanked him and took the box. Lily answered her mobile on the third ring, though I presumed that she wasn’t talking to me when she said ‘The strawberry dick lick will be all you need for dessert, trust me.’

  ‘And there was me thinking that I’d be full after this giant pizza.’

  ‘It arrived then? I wanted to make sure that you weren’t too heartbroken to eat,’ she said, and I spent so long telling her how thoughtful she was and how much she meant to me, that she had to remind me to eat it before it got cold. I offered to bring the pizza to her shop so that she could share it with me, but she told me not to bother. ‘It’s a full moon tonight,’ she said by way of explanation, then added when I didn’t understand, ‘people get up to all sorts at full moon.’

  I had thought that the whole point of her shop was that people got up to all sorts all of the time, but I still wanted to check she was alright being there. ‘Are you sure you’re okay at the shop?’

  ‘Are you kidding? I’ve racked up enough sales tonight that if we didn’t open again ‘til next week we’d still have done well.’ She began shouting to another customer to stop using up all the batteries, and I thought she’d forgotten that I was still there, until finally she came back on the line, apologised and said that she’d call me again soon.

  Truthfully, if she hadn’t have sent the pizza, I wasn’t sure that I would have got round to feeding myself properly, but given that there was food in front of me it took less effort to make myself eat. It felt quiet without Dad and Ben in the house, even though usually we had at least one supposedly locked door between us, so I went upstairs to their flat, switched the TV on and curled up in Dad’s favourite armchair. It smelled of his aftershave and made them feel just a little closer. I wondered whether Eli had made good on his plans to be hooked up with alcohol and women already, but it made me feel sick so I turned the programme up louder in case it could drown out those thoughts. It didn’t work.

  Perhaps having my dad there would make him tone down his game. It was hard to look suave when your company was a prematurely aged senior citizen, who had been depressed for around twenty years, and who was likely to ask girls if they were cold if he saw one in a short skirt. Ben wasn’t the most reliable wing man either. We were at a club once, and Eli was midway through reeling in a striking blonde woman who was six-feet tall and could have been a model. Ben walked over, handed Eli a beer and asked whether this was the woman he’d been talking about bedding the day before.

  Eli had taken the slap to the face without spilling a drop, I had laughed until I almost wet myself and we’d ended up back at Lily’s bedsit trying to agree on a drinking game and attempting to ignore how grumpy Eli was. Lily had wanted to play ‘I have never,’ which is when you take a shot whenever anyone suggests an act that you haven’t tried. Ben and I usually ended up wrecked when we played, Lily often grew more sober throughout the game, and I tried not to get upset when I found out just what Eli had been up to. So we’d watched a James Bond film instead and downed vodka every time he’d drunk on screen. It had been two days before we’d all felt human again.

  Thinking of how my dad and Ben might hamper Eli’s plans cheered me up. I managed to demolish half of the pizza and put the rest in my small fridge. Back in my room, I was glad that I’d cleaned up. The bed, with its new pale pink sheets covered in tiny embroidered flowers looked suitably different from the night before when Eli had been with me, and I surprised myself by managing to fall asleep quite quickly.

  My phone woke me early the next morning, and I reached for it, hoping that it might be a message from Eli before I came round enough to berate myself for being weak. To test my resolve, I made myself shower, drink a coffee and eat a slice of cold pizza before I looked at my text. I’d apparently slept through various other beeps too. Lily had written to me at three a.m. to say that she had just gotten home and wouldn’t be with me until later that day. The message that had woken me was from Taylor, and I felt guilty as I opened it.

  It was hard not to compare the men in my life. Taylor, with his muscles and his easy smile. As opposed to Eli and his more compact form. Still strong and hard-bodied, but his power hidden beneath his elegant clothes. Darkness and light. Taylor’s sparkling blue eyes. Eli’s smoky, the colour of jet when he was angry. Eli who set my heart racing when he touched me, who flew away from me without a backward glance. Taylor who seemed keen, with his half-dead flowers and offers of help. We hadn’t even kissed, let alone been on a proper date, yet I still felt dishonest.

  I knew that I should talk to him and try to clarify our situation, but I wasn’t sure what to say. If I cared about Eli this deeply, was it dishonest not to let Taylor down gently as soon as I could? I clicked his message open, and was relieved to find that instead of confusing me further, he’d simply forwarded the report from the fly overs that he had arranged.

  The UV sensor hadn’t detected any unusual displays on my street, but apparently had registered some interesting findings on its approach, leading to the police going in and finding a marijuana farm in the roof of a building two roads away. With that success, Taylor offered that he could request a further study if I wanted him too. I took a few moments to compose my reply carefully. I thanked him for his help but told him not to worry. I didn’t think we were likely to find out much more about the mysterious Cody from the air.

  It was signing off the email which stymied me for the longest time. Taylor had signed off with just his name, and I was tempted to do the same but it felt too formal. I added a kiss, then deleted it again. Finally I settled on adding a smiley emoji and sent it before I could worry about it any further.

  My phone beeped again before it even got as far as my pocket, and I was hesitant to see whether Taylor had been waiting for me t
o reply. Instead it was my dad. A man of few words these days, he’d sent me a photo. He and Ben were sat by the pool. The sky was a beautiful cerulean blue, but Dad had learnt his lesson from Canada and had his coat on regardless. Ben was wearing a Hawaiian shirt and holding a glass of something pink. The drink appeared to be filled with so many pieces of fruit and umbrellas – and even what looked like a sparkler – that it would be a miracle if he could get close enough to the glass to drink it. I Googled to check what the time difference was. Cyprus was only two hours ahead, so it was barely lunchtime there, but they were on holiday and I was glad to see them looking relaxed.

  Eli wasn’t in the photo so I couldn’t see whether the lines around his eyes had already softened for being away. I hoped that was because he was taking the photo, and not because he was already busy with a hook up. I couldn’t stop thinking about him. Time to open the shop and hope for a day busy enough to distract me.

  I checked the online calendar where I tracked my appointments. Noting that I had Mr King due in shortly, I cleared the remains of my breakfast away, straightened my black skirt, smoothed the front of my turquoise roll neck, and put the kettle on. As always, he was punctual, arriving at ten on the dot, and dressed as sharply as ever in a blue pin-stripe suit with pink shirt and white collar. His hair, slightly more grey than it had been at his previous visit six months before, was cut with a military precision. I made him a cup of coffee and let him browse the store. Half an hour later, I made him a second drink and tried to help him narrow down what he was after.

  ‘Have you thought about buying Mrs King a new handbag for Christmas?’ I asked.

  ‘Got her one for her birthday,’ he said, flicking through the pages of my new bedding catalogue.

  ‘Perfume?’

  ‘Says it makes her nose run,’ he said.

  I remembered why I usually planned his appointments for the end of the day, so that I could go to the pub afterwards to unwind, but he had meetings at his bank all afternoon and insisted that I squeeze him in.

  ‘Jewellery?’ I got a blue velvet tray out from underneath the till. ‘I found this antique silver brooch just a couple of weeks ago. I’ve polished it until it shines. It’s set with rubies.’ I showed him the small pin in the shape of a harp with sparkling stones set in a line.

  He barely glanced at it before he shook his head. ‘She prefers gold?’ I asked. ‘No problem. How about this?’ I showed him a ring, set with a pearl, surrounded by golden leaves.

  ‘She says she has more rings than fingers to put them on,’ he said, waving away my suggestions.

  ‘Earrings? I have some beautiful diamond studs. Chocolates?’

  ‘Diabetes.’

  ‘A silk dressing-gown? I carry a range of sizes and colours.’

  ‘She’s got several.’

  I shook my head and began to wonder whether I could get away with making myself a drink like Ben’s. We’d looked at and rejected my range of porcelain figurines, candles and toiletries, when Lily arrived. She kissed Mr King on the cheek, and I wondered briefly whether she was being polite or whether she already knew him from her place of work too, though I suspected that if she did, she wouldn’t have seemed so pleased to meet him again. Helping herself to a cup of coffee and a slice of pizza, she pulled her stool up to the window and dug out her binoculars again.

  Mr King began to look through the range of romantic CDs and vinyl that I stocked. My stomach rumbled and I offered him a sandwich as I wanted to make one for myself. I tried not to groan when he thanked me and said that he’d love one, knowing that it meant that he was nowhere near finished yet.

  After an hour of watching an empty road, Lily gave up her surveillance and joined in trying to help me sell something, anything, to Mr King. As much as I felt that online stores lacked the personal touch that my customers valued, I could suddenly see the advantages of their approach. Finally, I asked him whether he was sure that he had even come to the correct shop, given that he’d looked through everything but the teddy bears without finding anything he liked.

  ‘Teddies?’ Mr King said, putting his empty plate back on the counter.

  ‘Oh, they’re not what you think,’ I said, wishing I could take back my hasty words.

  ‘I want to see them,’ he said, sitting back on his stool and crossing his ankles and his arms. His tone of voice left no room for dissent.

  I went into my room and pulled the box out from where I’d hidden it under my bed. I looked inside. There were twenty bears, several were wearing leather, a couple had some wisps of lace. The rest held a variety of sex toys. They were unsuited to my product range, and I was nervous that Mr King would be too scared to ever come back to my shop again.

  That decided it, and tucking the box under my arm, I carted it back out to the counter. Setting the toys out one by one, Mr King began to smile when he saw the first, and by the time I drew out the last one, he was laughing so hard he was holding his sides.

  ‘I’ll take them,’ he said.

  ‘These are a specialist item,’ Lily said. ‘And the last of Daisy’s stock. It won’t be cheap.’

  He shot his arms out in front of him and straightened his cuffs. I took in the gold cufflinks with diamond inlays. It was his subtle way of telling us that price was not a factor for him. Lily got it too, as she began to type numbers into the till whilst I wrapped each bear into an individual gift bag.

  ‘Gladys will love these. They’ll appeal to her sense of humour,’ he said, handing over a gold credit card. I nearly yelped when I noticed what Lily was charging him, it was at least five times what the bears had cost, but when she passed him the keypad he entered his PIN number without blinking. ‘I’ll see you in February to buy her a Valentine’s present,’ he said, picking up his bags. Lily opened the front door for him, and he struggled out, his arms full of parcels.

  ‘I think we overcharged him,’ I said, tidying up after our working lunch.

  ‘How many hours did it take to make that sale?’

  ‘Three,’ I told her. ‘Though each felt like it lasted an eternity. What on earth can I sell him for Valentine’s Day?’

  ‘There’s another trade show in Birmingham in a few weeks,’ Lily said, ‘though this one is a little more wild.’ I thanked her for the thought but suggested that she go without me next time.

  ‘I still think you earned the money,’ she said.

  ‘Couldn’t have done it without you,’ I told her, opening the till. I counted out a bunch of notes until I had half of the profit from the teddy sale and handed it to Lily.

  She squealed and hugged me. ‘How long before your next appointment?’ she asked.

  I glanced at my watch and panicked. ‘About three minutes,’ I said, sweeping crumbs into my hand and dropping them into the bin. A few dropped to the floor, and as I reached down to pick them up, I noticed one last teddy that must have fallen on the floor when we’d unpacked the box. We hadn’t charged Mr King for it, so I tucked it into my handbag and decided to keep it as a good luck mascot. Plus, it had a huge furry boner, and there was really nowhere in my flat that I wanted to put it in case anyone else were to see it.

  The door opened, and we both turned to greet my next customer. Where Mr King was all about crisp lines and ironed creases, Arthur came in wearing a brown woolly jumper, baggy cord trousers that were thinning at the knees and hiking boots. He apologised for the trail of mud that he left behind him. I offered him a pair of slippers, and Lily brought him a stool whilst I grabbed a dustpan and brush. Arthur had first stumbled upon my shop a couple of years earlier after attempting to shop alone on Tottenham Court Road on the last Saturday before Christmas to buy a gift for his wife. He had wandered down my road hoping to find a quiet pub to rest and recover after failing to find anything and becoming overwhelmed by the crowds. I’d given him a glass of my dad’s brandy and let him sit down for half an hour without saying more than a dozen words. Finally, he had begun to talk about how important it was that he find the right gift, but that h
e never wanted to experience those hordes again. Eventually he had calmed down enough to look around him, and after helping him choose a new nightie, a box of chocolates and a floral bone china cup, he had hugged me goodbye and promised to come back next time he wanted to buy his wife a gift.

  On this visit he oohed and ahhed over the pearl ring, before admiring a silver topaz brooch in the shape of a cat and a bottle of rose-scented hand lotion. He told us that roses had been their special flower since their first date when he had turned up with a single yellow rose. When he told us that it had been all that he could afford, but to make up for it, on their anniversary he bought a bouquet with one rose for every year that they had been together, even Lily had to wipe away a tear. He said he couldn’t wait until June when he would get to finally give her a bouquet of fifty. I showed him an 18-carat gold rose-shaped brooch that I’d found in an antique shop in Covent Garden and he put the cat down and picked that up instead.

  Lily showed him the sheets with roses embroidered on it and he ordered a set of those too. When he showed her the photographs of his grandchildren, she showed him the range of photo frames made from reclaimed wood that I stocked. I rang his purchases up at the till, though Lily was having such a good time I suspected that she wouldn’t have dreamt of marking his sales up as highly as she did for Mr King. This time, I knocked five per cent off for what I liked to call my ‘nice client discount’.

  Arthur sat down to put his shoes back on, huffing and puffing as he leant over to tie the laces. ‘So what do you lovely ladies have planned for this afternoon?’ he asked. I bit my tongue before I could explain that I’d probably spend it wondering and worrying about Eli. Instead, Lily showed him her binoculars and explained that we were watching the road to find out about my new neighbour.

  ‘I promise that no matter what opens up nearby, I’ll always come back to you, dear,’ Arthur said to me. I smiled and wrapped the slippers he had borrowed in tissue paper before tucking them into his bag.