by Fiona Grace
“You do know him,” Lacey said, relieved. “He just wandered into my shop. Do you know where his owners are?”
Tom came out from behind the counter and crouched beside the dog. He rubbed it behind the ears and the dog wagged its tail with recognition. Tom peered up at Lacey. “He belonged to the people who leased the store before you! He must’ve wandered all the way back home.”
Lacey gasped. She’d heard of dogs doing that before, of covering vast distances to get back to their old abodes.
“Wow, he is a clever dog,” she said. “I’ll phone Stephen and get the number of the old lessee. They must be besides themselves with worry.”
She grabbed her cell and called her landlord.
“I’m sorry, Lacey,” he said once she’d explained the situation to him. “But they didn’t leave any contact details, and their phones just go to voicemail.”
Lacey ended the call and looked at Tom. “There’s no way to contact them.”
She felt awful. She’d never had a pet herself, but she knew that people treated them like family. Chester’s owners must be going nuts.
“We should try the RSPCA,” Tom suggested. “If Chester has a microchip, they’ll be able to read it and get his owners’ contact details that way.”
Lacey clicked her fingers. “That’s some great detective work.”
Tom shrugged. “Well, that’s assuming they’ve updated them with their new address.”
Lacey bit down on her bottom lip. “That’s a good point. They left a lot of debt for Stephen. If Chester’s microchip was a potential way for them to be traced, they might not have.”
Just then, Chester started to whine sadly, almost as if he’d understood the meaning of Lacey’s words.
She bent down and began to pet him. “I’m sorry, Chester. I’m sure that’s not true. I’m sure we’ll be able to get you reunited right away. Are you hungry, boy?”
“Here,” Tom said, grabbing a cellophane-wrapped packet of what looked like chocolate drops off the shelf and handing it to Lacey. “Don’t worry. It’s carob, for people with chocolate allergies, so it won’t poison him. I’ll call the RSPCA.”
While Tom spoke on the phone, Lacey fed Chester the carob treats. He ate them greedily, licking them right up from her palms. It looked like he hadn’t eaten for a while and Lacey felt a huge responsibility to take care of him. Though he’d been in her life all of five minutes, Lacey felt like an instant bond had formed between them.
Tom came back in from the back room. “Okay, the alert’s been put out to all local vets, and they’d like us to bring him in to them. I said we were both working, but that we’d come at the end of the day once we’ve closed up.”
A tingly feeling ran across Lacey’s skin every time Tom used the words, “we” and “our.” She liked the idea of them being in this together.
“Is that okay?” Tom added.
Lacey nodded eagerly. “I can take care of Chester until then.”
“Great,” Tom said. “I’ll pick you up at the end of the day. I owe you a date, after all.”
Now Lacey really did blush, and tried to hide her face by busily rubbing Chester’s neck.
“You’d better get back to your store,” Tom added. “Looks like you have customers.”
Lacey leapt up and swirled around. Sure enough, a tall, blond couple had wandered in through her open door. Her heart skipped a beat with excitement.
“A customer!” she cried.
Chester leapt up at the sound of her exclamation. Together, they hurried for the door. Just as she reached it, Lacey heard Tom calling to her.
“Oh, Lacey?”
She paused and looked back over her shoulder. “Yeah?”
“I love the new haircut.”
Lacey grinned from ear to ear, then hurried away.
*
As Lacey saw to her first ever customers—a Danish couple on an anniversary vacation—Chester settled down in front of the desk and started to snore. Lacey tried to keep her mind focused on her business, but she kept seeing flashes of Tom through the window, and found her attention constantly drifting toward him.
“And how much would that be?” the Danish man asked, forcing Lacey back to the moment.
She glanced at the lamp he was gesturing to. “Oh, that one’s fifty dollars. I mean, fifty pounds.”
Get it together, Lacey, her mind chastised her.
“Great. I’ll take it.”
That was all Lacey needed to hear to bring her focus back to reality. She was about to make her first ever sale!
Doing her best to hide how giddy with joy she felt, she carried the lamp over to the counter and used the old analogue till machine to ring it up for the Danish couple. As the man handed over some notes, Lacey couldn’t help the grin from spreading across her face. That fifty pounds represented independence, freedom, and new beginnings, and Lacey felt like all her Christmases had come early.
She bagged the lamp and held it out to the couple. “And that’s for you. Have a great day, both of you. And congratulations.”
The couple exchanged a glance as if Lacey was a little odd, before thanking her and leaving.
The second they were out of sight, Lacey jumped up and punched the air.
“Did you see that, Chester?” she asked the snoozy dog. “Did you see me make a sale?”
The dog lifted his head and whined, then let it drop back down and went back to snoring.
Lacey’s eyes traveled through the window to the patisserie. There was Tom, watching her with a look of pride. He flashed her a thumbs-up.
Lacey felt like she was on top of the world.
*
The feeling lasted the rest of the morning. Everyone who came into the shop seemed very interested in the American expat who’d set up shop in a small seaside village in England. Those who were locals kept asking what had happened to the prior owners—prompted by the presence of Chester—of which Lacey could only explain that they’d left at short notice and their dog had wandered back a week later.
Then a man came in with his two young daughters. Both the girls had curly brown hair, and were about the ages of four and seven. It was just like when Lacey was a child, with Naomi and her dad, and the sight made a sudden flash of memory hit her.
They’d gone out shopping, the three of them, hunting for antiques to take back to his store in New York. Mom hadn’t come on the shopping trip, though Lacey couldn’t recall why. Then Naomi had dropped something. A porcelain trinket. She’d grabbed the broken item, cutting her finger open in the process, and it started bleeding profusely. The woman behind the counter had rushed over to help Naomi, showing her tender affection rather than being annoyed about the broken item. Dad and the store clerk had locked eyes, hadn’t they? It had been like a romantic movie, the “meet cute” moment, where the hero and heroine merely brush one another’s hands and fall instantly in love.
Coming back to reality, Lacey gasped. Had she invented the last bit of that memory, about the romantic tension between her father and the store clerk? She’d only been seven at the time, after all; there was no way she’d have picked up on any subtle romanticism at that age. Unless it had really been there, and she was able to understand it now. Was it relevant to her parents’ subsequent divorce? Her father’s disappearance? Lacey felt the hairs on her arms lift as goosebumps appeared across her skin.
Just then, the door tinkled. In waltzed Tom, a hamper in his arms.
“What are you doing here?” Lacey asked. Looking through the windows, she saw that his store had been locked up and a hand-drawn sign read: out for lunch. “Isn’t this your busiest time?”
“I thought Chester might be hungry,” Tom replied, opening up the basket and pulling out a packet of dog food, along with a delicate china bowl that he’d obviously taken from his cafe. “And I also thought you might be,” he added, continuing to empty the contents of his basket onto the counter in front of a bewildered Lacey.
“Oh.”
“Is that all right?” Tom
asked, clearly picking up on her moment of hesitation.
“Yes, of course,” Lacey gushed. “I just wasn’t expecting it.”
Which was quite the understatement. She’d been divorced for a matter of days. A gorgeous man showing sudden romantic interest in her was not something she’d ever expected. It had all happened so quickly she hadn’t really had time to stop and work out if she wanted it.
She reminded herself that this was a new Lacey. The old Lacey had to be scheduled and organized and thorough and precise because David had wanted her to be. Perhaps the new Lacey was someone who threw caution to the wind. There was only one way to find out.
Tom set out the food for Chester, who began to eat greedily and happily. Then he unwrapped all the sandwiches and cakes he’d brought over for them to share. To Lacey’s amusement, he produced a steaming hot tea pot from the basket.
“Really?” she laughed.
“Of course!” he replied, pouring her a cup.
Lacey couldn’t even stop the muscles tugging her lips up at the corners; it was as if they had a mind of their own, as if her joy was untamable. And she loved the feeling.
“Cheers,” Tom said, holding his cup up to chink against hers.
Lacey did the same. But instead of the soft clinking noise Lacey was expecting, the sound of a bell rang out. It was the door, tinkling as someone entered.
Lacey looked over Tom’s shoulder to see Taryn strolling in, her shiny black heels clacking on the floorboards.
“Lacey, I’m out of change, can you switch me some for a tenner?”
Then Taryn paused, noticing that Lacey was sharing a pot of tea and lunch with someone. Lacey thought Taryn’s face paled.
“Tom?” Taryn said with disbelief. Her head darted back over her shoulder as if to check that he wasn’t in his store, as if she thought the only explanation for him being here with Lacey was if he were a replicant clone.
“Hello, Taryn,” Tom said in his oh so easy-breezy way, which seemed very incongruous considering the way Taryn’s face had completely blanched at the sight of him.
“You two know each other?” Lacey asked.
“Course we do,” Tom said jovially, not picking up on the tension at all. “Taryn buys her morning coffee from me before work. And her evening coffee after.”
He said it in his usual friendly manner, as if completely oblivious to Taryn’s very obvious excuse to see him. But Lacey sure wasn’t oblivious. Her nemesis’s cheeks were pink, her eyes shifty. Taryn had a thing for Tom. A major thing.
Great, Lacey thought. That’s just what I need. Another reason for Taryn to hate me.
CHAPTER NINE
As the clock ticked ever closer to five p.m., Lacey’s excitement grew more and more pronounced. She couldn’t wait for her adventure with Tom to begin. The last few hours she’d spent without him had felt too long.
But first she had to lock up on her first full day as a business owner.
As she balanced the till, Lacey was overcome with pride. She hadn’t made enough to turn a profit, but considering most folk in town wouldn’t even know she was open yet, she was thrilled by the stack of notes in her till. She’d logged every item that had sold—something she’d seen her father do—so she’d know exactly what kind of items she needed to stock up on.
Just as she’d finished writing a list of the London dealers she’d need to contact, she heard the sound of a honking car horn. She glanced up to see an iconic cherry-red VW van idling in the streets outside her store. Through its windows, Lacey saw Tom waving at her.
Lacey laughed with abandon. How fitting that Tom would drive a VW!
“Come on, Chester,” she said, filled with girlish excitement.
The English Shepherd trotted alongside Lacey as she exited the store—closing up on her first ever day as a business owner—and skipped across the cobblestones toward the van. She hauled open the passenger side door and gestured for Chester to go in first. He leapt up into the passenger footwell, and Lacey hopped up after him. There was just enough room for her to squeeze her legs either side of him.
“Hi,” Tom said, looking over from the driver’s seat, flashing her one of his gorgeous smiles.
“Hey,” Lacey replied, suddenly shy.
Tom pulled away from the curb and Lacey buckled up her seat belt. As she did, she heard her phone ping with an incoming message. She took it from her pocket, eager to see whether Naomi and Mom had finally gotten around to sending her congratulatory messages. Indeed, there was a notification on the Bishop Girlz thread, and she tapped with excitement. The message was from Naomi.
Are you sure this Tom guy isn’t trying to recruit you into a cult? He seems suspiciously nice.
Disappointed, Lacey rolled her eyes. What did Naomi know? Her little sister had been in the most disastrous, unhealthy relationships Lacey had ever seen. If she thought the fact that Tom was nice was a red flag, well, that just showed how skewed her perspective really was.
Lacey turned to Tom. “Are you recruiting me into a cult?” she asked. “My sister wants to know.”
“Nope,” Tom said, laughing, completely unfazed by the question.
Before Lacey had a chance to reply, her phone buzzed again with another message from her sister.
I mean, what does RSPCA even mean? Sounds totally like a cult to me!
Lacey’s thumbs tapped in overdrive. It stands for the Royal Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals, you numbskull! Then she hit send and shoved her cell phone back into her pocket.
It buzzed again, but this time Lacey ignored it. She was determined not to let Naomi bring down her mood with her negativity and skepticism.
In the time it had taken for the back and forth messages to take place, the town of Wilfordshire had disappeared behind Lacey. She looked through the windshield to see that the VW was now cruising along the narrow roads of the open countryside, with rolling green hills either side. It was all very pretty, and very quaint.
“Look!” Lacey exclaimed, as she noticed a castle-like building nestled in a valley. It looked like something that belonged in the pages of a Bronte novel, and she couldn’t help but let her jaw drop open in awe at its impressive architecture.
“That’s Penrose Estate,” Tom said, smiling at her astonishment. “It’s the reason there’s a town of Wilfordshire in the first place.”
“Really?” Lacey asked, intrigued.
Tom nodded, his focus now back on the road. “Uh-huh. A lot of villages in England are like that. A whole economy grows around the home of a single aristocrat. A couple hundred years ago, if you weren’t blue-blooded, your whole existence involved servicing someone who was.”
“I was about to say it’s gorgeous,” Lacey said. “But I feel like I shouldn’t now.”
Tom laughed. “Oh, it’s gorgeous, all right. Just important to remember its history.”
He tapped on the left indicator and turned the van down a long, hilly road. There, as if springing up from nowhere, was a large red brick building that Lacey would’ve assumed was a boarding school if it hadn’t been for the bright blue sign with the letters RSPCA embossed upon it.
Tom pulled the VW into the lot and parked up.
Lacey untangled herself from where Chester had curled up in the footwell, and coaxed the dog out of the van. As she’d come to expect from him, he obeyed her every word with a look of utter comprehension in his eye. Lacey wondered if other dogs were as sharp as this one, or if Chester was a rare genius.
“Oh, what a gorgeous dog,” the receptionist said as the automatic double doors allowed Tom and Lacey inside.
The receptionist was a rather stout woman, short, with red, jolly cheeks and thick wiry gray hair that hung to her chin in the shape of a triangle.
“This is Chester,” Tom said. “We called earlier about tracing his owner.”
The receptionist checked her computer. “Oh yes. Mr. and Mrs. Forrester, is it?”
Lacey almost choked on nothing and was about to open her mouth to r
efute when Tom said merrily, “Yes, that’s right.”
Either he hadn’t heard the receptionist’s slip-up, or he didn’t mind being mistaken for Lacey’s husband. On the contrary, Lacey’s heart had begun slamming against her ribcage at the thought of being Tom’s wife.
“Go right on in,” the receptionist said. “The vet’s waiting for you.”
Lacey couldn’t even look at Tom as they walked side by side along the corridor and in through the vet’s open door.
The veterinarian looked up and smiled as they entered. She was a short Asian woman, swamped by her dark green scrubs, and she had childlike features that made her look far too young to be a qualified veterinarian. Another Brenda, Lacey thought, thinking of the barmaid at the Coach House.
“This must be Chester?” the vet said, approaching them. “I hear he’s lost.”
“That’s right,” Lacey said. “He wandered into my store today. His owners were the prior tenants.”
“Ah,” the vet said as if this wasn’t much of a surprise at all. “Dogs can have very strong homing instincts. Let’s scan you, Chester, and see if we can get you reunited.”
She got a black plastic device and held it to the back of Chester’s neck. It beeped.
“He’s microchipped,” she said. “That’s a good start.”
She went over to the computer and began typing into it, leaving Lacey to stand awkwardly with her hands clasped, avoiding Tom’s attempts to make eye contact.
“Oh,” the vet said suddenly, looking up from her computer at the pair. By the look on her face, Lacey could tell there was some bad news coming.
“What is it?” she asked, concern fluttering inside of her.
“I’m afraid the owners are deceased.”
Lacey and Tom gasped in unison.
“What? How?” Tom stammered. “We thought they moved away.”
“There’s a police report here,” the vet explained, her gaze returning to the computer screen as she relayed aloud what it was showing her. “The registered owners were in a vehicle accident over a week ago. Both were declared dead at the scene.”