Daisy's Christmas Gift Shop

by Hannah Pearl

  ‘Little Christmas present from me,’ I told him.

  ‘See you in February. I’ll be back to pick up a little something special for the missus,’ he said, tugging the collar of his jumper up against the chill.

  ‘I’ll be here, unless the mysterious Mr or Mrs Cody Rainbow and “Picture Perfect” have put me out of business by then.’

  Lily chuckled, but Arthur stepped away from the open door and back into the shop.

  Chapter Ten

  ‘Cody Rainbow?’ he asked. ‘Are you sure you don’t mean Cody Ray?’

  I shook my head and showed him the letter. ‘It doesn’t say what he or she will be doing, but “Picture Perfect”? That sounds pretty romantic. I’m not really scared that he or she will be direct competition, but it doesn’t give away much and I must admit it’s got me nervous. I do okay here but it wouldn’t take much to put a serious dent in my business. I don’t get a lot of walk-in trade as it is.’

  ‘Apart from me,’ Arthur pointed out. ‘You saved my bacon and I won’t forget it.’

  I kissed his cheek.

  Arthur pulled the stool back out and sat at the counter, not even noticing the mud that followed him again this time. I wanted to sweep up, but I wanted to hear his information first. ‘Cody is a photographer, made her name as a journalist. You know that iconic picture from after the bombing in the embassy? She took that. Then a year later she burnt out.’

  ‘Alcohol?’ I asked.

  ‘Drugs?’ Lily said.

  Arthur shrugged. ‘I don’t know, stress I think. I just remember my wife reading a story about her in a magazine not long ago. She was in rehab for a while, and the piece was advertising her relaunch. It said she was thinking of changing her name but I didn’t know what to. I’m sure it’s her though.’ That would explain why Ben hadn’t been able to track her down online. I assumed that she had changed her name for that very reason, to give her some space from whatever had led to the career break.

  Arthur continued, ‘The shop is called Picture Perfect? It has to be her. She’s an artist with her camera. She had a series of landscapes. They were beautiful. There was this one of the sunset, reminded me of our honeymoon. We only went to Bognor, but one night, we were walking up the beach and the view was outstanding. Never thought I’d see anything like it again until I saw her photo. Now if I could buy one of those …’ He stopped and realised what he was saying. ‘I’d still shop here too, of course,’ he said, picking up his bags and wishing us a merry Christmas.

  ‘We did it,’ Lily squealed. ‘Take that spy boys with your techy gadgets and your hacking skills. We solved the mystery with good old-fashioned conversation.’ She fanned out the notes I’d handed her earlier. ‘Time to celebrate?’ she asked.

  ‘How long do you have before you have to be at work?’

  She glanced at the small silver dial set into a black leather strap around her wrist. ‘Two hours, but if I go in slightly tipsy it’s okay. The boss reckons I get a bit flirty when I’ve had a drink, pushes sales up.’

  I checked the time on my own watch. ‘I’ve only got an hour before my next client is due, and I’ve two more in after that. It’s going to be a long day today.’ Just what I’d told myself I needed this morning, though now I was wishing I could take off again. ‘How about we sneak to the patisserie and I treat you to a cream cake?’

  In the end Lily paid for her choux bun and my slice of gateau. She said that she felt flush with so much cash in her pocket. Afterwards I hugged her farewell and retreated to my boutique, opening up again just a couple of minutes before another of my favourite customers turned up. Albert had seen the advert that I’d placed in the London newspaper three years before. He’d turned up, all five-foot-four of him in his camel-coloured mac and tweed flat cap.

  He’d spent ten minutes choosing a diamond necklace and a hamper of his wife’s favourite snacks. We’d spent another hour chatting over a cuppa as he told me about how they’d met at a tea dance when they were teenagers. After Christmas I’d got a thank you card from his wife. She had been grateful for the difference from his previous attempts of jumpers which didn’t fit, or even worse, the year that he had bought her a new armchair because she had complained about the old one. She came in herself three months later to buy his birthday present, and explained that the chair was very much his, and that the new one that he had ostensibly bought for her had remained covered in his old newspapers and very quickly smelt no better and looked no smarter than the old one.

  These days they both phoned me separately, usually one after another. They would plan a shopping trip to London, and each claiming that they needed time alone, I’d schedule their appointments with an hour clear in the middle to avoid them meeting in my shop by accident. I usually used the time before her appointment to hide the things I knew that she would like so that she wouldn’t see them and ruin the surprise, and the time before his appointment getting everything back out again and adding to the pile anything her eyes had lingered on as well. Albert and Doris also received my five per cent nice customer discount. And given that after they left I could usually bask in the happiness that they shared, I benefited from seeing them too.

  That afternoon I made sales, wrapped packages and served tea and cookies. By the time I closed the door, I’d had one of my best days ever, and looked forward to curling up on Dad’s sofa with a plate of junk food and a film. It was a huge relief too to feel less nervous about my new neighbour. I began to feel just a little more hopeful about the future of my special shop. First I just had to tidy up the debris of the day. I swept the floor again and washed it to get rid of any last traces of mud. Then, I carted mugs to the kitchen, ran a sink full of hot water and began to wash up.

  I heard the door to shop open and close and I called out. ‘I thought you had work, Lily. Did they let you out early?’

  There was a gentle cough, and I placed the last mug on the draining board and turned around. There was a woman wearing a long, rainbow-coloured cotton shawl over black linen trousers and a maroon floaty shirt. I wanted to point out that the shop was closed for the evening, but I’d made a point of never turning away a customer who needed my help. Goodness knows if I did, I’d have turned away Mr King before I sent this lady packing. Not least because she was at least six inches taller than me, and probably weighed twice as much. She wasn’t fat, not by any stretch of the imagination, she was simply statuesque. Her figure was topped by a crowd of ginger curls that tumbled freely down her back.

  ‘Welcome to Romantic Daze,’ I told her, gesturing with my arm to let her know that she was free to browse. ‘I’m Daisy.’

  ‘Sorry I’m not Lily,’ she said.

  ‘No problem,’ I told her. ‘I thought that I had locked up and my friend is one of the few people with a key so I assumed it was her.’

  ‘I can come back tomorrow,’ the lady said, wandering around my shop and running her fingers through the selection of silk scarves. I couldn’t blame her, I often found it comforting to do the same.

  I assured her that she was welcome to browse and she took me at my word, spending an inordinately long time gazing at the photo frames. I used the time to study her, as discreetly as I could. She appeared to be in her late forties or early fifties, though there wasn’t a streak of white in her hair yet, just a scattering of laughter lines. It was hard to tell if any of the rings that she wore on each of her fingers were from a significant other. She carried with her an aura of peace. Perhaps it was in the slow yet deliberate way that she moved, graceful but sure of herself. I loved how when she was drawn to something, like a scent bottle or a bar of fragrant soap, she would hold it, feel it, smell it, just as I did. I knew that anything she chose would mean something to her. Finally she chose a CD of piano concertos and brought it to the till to pay. She explained that she had just moved across the road and had been out exploring when she’d seen my light on. She stretched her hand out for me to shake. ‘I’m Cody.’

  I gulped and hoped that she couldn’t
tell from the look on my face how guilty I felt. I’d never have snooped if I’d known that she would be so nice, and there was no way I’d have let Ben try and investigate her online. I hate to think what he’d have been able to tell us about her if he had found out who she was.

  Cody announced that it was only fair that having seen my shop, I come back to see hers. Where my house demonstrated its age in its bowed walls and crooked roof, hers was modern, with straight edges and perfectly aligned sparkling windows. She took a key from a pocket of her trousers and let us in. This time it was my turn to be lost in wonder. The front opened directly into what in any other house on the road might well have been a living room. Every wall had been painted in white gloss. The furniture had been removed, and the only hint of Cody’s colourful approach to dressing was evident in the light shade, which was box like and made from red paper so thin it was translucent, especially in the face of the wattage glaring out from it.

  I stood, speechless, absorbing the intensity of Cody’s landscape prints. The walls were dominated by a series of photographs, enlarged to be the size of regular posters and framed in glass, edged with white borders. The image of the woods in a thunderstorm had me pulling my jacket tighter around myself to stay warm. As I was drawn into the photograph of a deserted beach at sunset, Cody handed me a glass of cold, crisp white wine, and I imagined the feel of the breeze on my face as I sipped it.

  ‘These are incredible,’ I told her. ‘They’re so powerful, so emotive. This one,’ I gestured at a shot of an old-fashioned sailing ship alone on the ocean, ‘if this is for sale I know of a lady who would kill to buy this for her husband for Christmas. And I wouldn’t mind the one of the beach myself. It reminds me of holidays when I was a kid.’ I took a sip of wine, trying to work out when I went from being nervous that she would put me out of business to being so overwhelmed by her talent that I couldn’t stop myself from admiring her work.

  She laughed and sipped her own drink. ‘I don’t want to steal your customers,’ she said, and I immediately stopped worrying about the impact of her moving here. ‘I suppose I could give you a commission for anyone you send my way.’ She tapped her glass against mine in a toast. ‘It’ll be a pleasure doing business with you,’ she said. ‘I’ve got a pan of soup on the hob. Fancy a bowl?’

  ‘I’d love some but I’m veggie,’ I told her.

  ‘Me too,’ she said, leaving me to take in the pictures as she went to prepare the food. The walls of the hall were covered in smaller prints, these in a variety of frames. They included close-ups of flowers, long exposures of starry nights, and here and there a wildlife shot or two.

  I was still singing Cody’s praises as she led me to the kitchen and handed me a steaming bowl of soup. ‘You’re too kind,’ she said. ‘It’s been strange for me to reinvent myself. It’s reassuring to hear that it hasn’t been a mistake.’

  She didn’t go into any more detail about the breakdown that had led to her leaving the world of journalism, and I didn’t ask, but as I tucked into the fragrant mixture of tomatoes and beans at the bottom of my dish, I hoped that this might be the first of many evenings that I spent looking at her work.

  Instead of talking about herself, she asked about the history of ‘Romantic Daze’, and I told her how I’d come to open my shop. When she asked about the state of my own love life I decided it best to follow her lead and skimp on the details. If she noticed then she was too polite to press for more. The only outward sign of her former life was an invitation to an award show, printed in a calligraphy style font on ivory card. It was blu-tacked near to the shelf holding the spare toilet rolls and bleach next to the loo in a tiny bathroom under her stairs. Whether that was any indication of whether she had attended at all, or won or lost, I had no idea.

  When I got back home, I made sure that I locked the door this time, before kicking off my shoes, brushing my teeth and going to bed. I stayed awake just long enough to text Lily about my evening and to wish her good night’s sleep, before the wine and the busy day combined to leave me unable to keep my eyes open any longer.

  Chapter Eleven

  The day dawned crisp and bright with the promise that you’d be chilled to the bone if you attempted to enjoy the winter sun for longer than a few moments, but that wasn’t what woke me. Ben had emailed in the middle of the night to say that he’d found a credit card in the name of Rebecca Cody Ray which contained the charges for groceries at the local organic store, and several to a company which specialised in printing and frames. He thought he had tracked down my elusive competitor and said that now he had her full name, he’d be able to supply me with a file of information by the next day. Given that I’d now met Cody and really liked her – in fact I’d probably eaten the food paid for with that card – I’d quickly emailed him back and pulled him off the search. I’d then spent another chunk of the night feeling guilty that I’d intruded into Cody’s business and hoped that I had gotten in touch with Ben before he’d read anything too personal. I’d finally fallen asleep again just before my alarm went off.

  Dragging myself out of bed, the sun felt too bright as it shone through my thin net curtains, so I locked myself in the bathroom and showered until I felt a few more brain cells kick in. Coffee helped. Not enough, but it allowed me to get dressed and open up on time. I dealt with the first couple of customers on autopilot. I hated feeling like I was going through the motions. The ethos of Romantic Daze was to offer a personal service, to not only carry the stock items that you might expect in a store of this nature, but also to get to know my clients and discover unusual gifts that they would never have found by themselves. Luckily this approach meant that I’d done my research already, and had the prospective gifts under the counter waiting to be inspected. My clients seemed thrilled with my finds, no matter how much I knew I wasn’t my usual smiling self as I served them.

  Waving Mavis off with a signed record of her husband’s favourite singer under her arm, I locked the door and decided that if I wanted to do a better job that afternoon, I ought to take the hour that I’d set aside for lunch and use it for a nap instead. I gobbled down a cereal bar, shut my door and was asleep again in minutes.

  I woke up, for the second time that day, and swore when I glanced at my phone and saw how long I’d slept. My client had been due in ten minutes earlier, and I hoped that I hadn’t slept so deeply that I’d missed them knocking on the door. Tying my hair back into a ponytail, I slipped my shoes back on and opened my bedroom door.

  Lily was behind the till and was busy talking Keith through his selection from the silver-edged glass bottle collection that I’d arranged on the window sill. ‘Daisy,’ Lily greeted me. ‘I was just explaining that you were unpacking the last of the Christmas stock in the backroom.’

  Keith had been coming to my shop for several years and no doubt knew very well that the only thing behind the door was my bedroom, but he was too polite to mention it.

  I kissed Lily’s cheek and offered to put the kettle on. Carrying a tray of hot chocolate and biscuits back out to them, I assured Keith that his wife would love the antiques he had chosen. He promised to be back again before long and went on his way, whistling as I showed him out.

  ‘You saved me, yet again,’ I told Lily.

  She pointed out the lines on my cheek where I’d slept on the crease on my pillow, and I hoped that Keith hadn’t noticed. ‘You look different,’ she said, assessing me.

  ‘I look a lot better than I did before my nap.’

  ‘That’s not it. You’re less jumpy than you were.’

  ‘I’m not scared that Picture Perfect will spell the end of this place any more,’ I explained. ‘In fact, I can see us referring clients to each other. It could be a good thing. Though I don’t think she’ll ever come close to being my favourite colleague.’ I fetched a small box from the fridge and handed it to Lily. ‘There’s only four in there so savour them. These are the most expensive truffles I could find.’ I’d decided my friend more than deserved them.
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  Luckily Lily was too distracted by her chocolates to ask me how I was feeling about Eli. I hadn’t made any more decisions about him, but I still had another five days before he was due home, so at least I knew I wouldn’t be bumping into him before I’d had chance to think through what I wanted to say. Then I’d have another few days before Christmas, at which point I’d no longer have work to distract me and we’d doubtless have to spend the whole of Christmas Day upstairs in Dad’s flat eating and pretending to be cheerful together. I’d have to find a way to cope with being in such close proximity to him again if I didn’t get any answers when he returned.

  I had four more appointments back to back after Lily left for work. Locking up after my final customer, I headed into my kitchen and immediately walked out again. Grabbing my coat, I locked my door and turned to walk towards Lily’s shop. She could usually take a break for dinner and I had decided to take her out for a treat to thank her for looking out for me.

  I was passing under the streetlamp when I heard Cody call my name. She was wrapped up, with a fake fur hat on top of her auburn ringlets. Her trousers today were burgundy linen and her coat had a patchwork design. It shouldn’t have worked, and yet her height and poise gave it an elegance the outfit would have lacked on anyone else. She looked amazing.

  ‘I’m just off to see if I can persuade my friend to join me for dinner,’ I told her.

  ‘That sounds jolly.’ She dug into her pockets to try and find her key, and I noticed that she stopped for a moment longer than she needed to before she let herself into her new home.

  ‘Would you like to come with us?’

  Cody closed her door, tucked her key back into her pocket and looped her arm through mine. ‘I would love to,’ she said.

  ‘We’ll have to go to her shop to ask her if she can take a break,’ I explained.

  ‘I love checking out other people’s businesses.’