‘It’s quite simple. I don’t believe in them because I don’t believe in that kind of love.’ Poppy took a sip of her wine and set it down with a nonchalant shrug. ‘Stop looking so freaked out, it’s no big deal.’
‘No big deal? But you were just trying to get me dating. Marry me off. How can someone who doesn’t believe in love do that?’
‘I was just trying to inject some fun in your life, Ben. Not love. Besides, you’re the marrying type. The type who’d make it work even once what you thought was love died out. People do it all the time. They stay together for financial reasons. Or because they know no better. Or out of stubbornness. Not for love. Love is really just a bunch of hormones racing around your body that make you hook up with someone so that babies can be made and the human race gets to continue. Love’s really just a giant myth as far as I’m concerned. A fairy tale to keep you warm at night.’
Ben pushed his plate away, his appetite as existent as Poppy’s belief in happy-ever-afters. ‘How can you say it’s a myth? My mother and father have stuck it out through thick and thin for over thirty-five years. They’re proof that love exists.’
‘But that’s the thing. You just said it yourself. They’ve “stuck it out”. If love was real you wouldn’t have to stick it out. And it’s not like my parents are the best example. My father left before I was born. And my mother…’ Poppy paused as colour flooded her cheeks, and her eyes drifted to the window. The look in her juniper-green eyes was as dark as the night sky. ‘Well, she wasn’t the best role model.’
Ben wanted to ask why, but Poppy’s taut jaw told him she wasn’t about to elaborate. He checked the time on his watch. Nearly eleven. He had to be up in a few hours to get his morning swim and workout in. Needed that time to plan out his day. To figure out what had to be done, and the best way to do it. But he didn’t want to leave Poppy like this. All twisted and tortured by some aspect of her past that she clung to. That haunted her. He had to go, but before he did he wanted to see the sadness in Poppy’s eyes recede, to see them brighten once more.
‘You know, Pops, you may not believe in love, but I know you believe in friendship. And I probably should have said this when we decided… well, when we were kind of forced into business together. But I’m glad you’re back, Poppy. Really glad.’ Ben raised his cup. ‘To the rekindling of a beautiful relationship.’
Poppy’s jaw relaxed as she raised her cup. ‘To a beautiful friendship. One where I won’t have to worry about you going all lovey-dovey on me. The best kind.’ The shine returned to her eyes, as her ever-present inner light beat off the dark. ‘The only kind.’
‘Indeed. The only kind.’ Ben clinked his cup against Poppy’s and ignored the stab her words had brought to his gut. Indigestion. That was all it was. All it could possibly be.
Chapter 5
The sight of towering boxes, threatening to topple over, sent an army of ants marching through Poppy’s stomach.
There was so much to unpack. So much to set up. And such little time to do it.
Although the way the tower was teetering, there was a chance one floor-shuddering step would see her die under a box avalanche.
Death by unicorn.
How ironic would it be if her demise was caused by that which was meant to be the start of the rest of her life?
‘What was I thinking getting myself into this? I must be mad.’
Poppy’s lips quirked in amusement at Ben’s self-chastisement. He mustn’t have heard her arrive minutes before.
Connect automatic door chime.
Another thing to do on a list that seemed to get longer the closer they got to opening their joint venture.
‘I heard that,’ she called in a sing-song lilt. Her quirked lips spread into a cheek-stretching smile as a curse met her ears.
The sound of brisk footsteps on wooden floorboards told her Ben was on his way to apologise.
Bless his cotton socks. He’d always been too nice for his own good.
‘Sorry, Poppy. Didn’t hear you come in.’
Poppy turned to see Ben leaning against the doorway that led to the kitchen, his hands shoved deep into rust-red chinos that were as perfectly pressed as his blue and white checked short-sleeved collared shirt. Poppy glanced down at his brown leather loafers. Not a scuff in sight. Her tummy did a little flip-flop. Ben looked good. Better than good. The way he was dressed, the way his hair was just so, he could’ve come straight from a fashion shoot.
‘I didn’t know you were here.’ His cheeks pinked up, no doubt embarrassed to have been caught saying something that could potentially hurt someone’s feelings.
Such a Ben thing to do. He’d always cared. About everything. And everyone. Too much, as far as Poppy was concerned. He’d taken his only-child status seriously. Studying hard. Using his manners. Pleasing his parents in every way possible.
They were total opposites. Perhaps that’s why their friendship had worked. Perhaps that’s why even now after all these years – despite Ben’s apparent misgivings – they still worked.
Poppy grabbed a box cutter from her counter that had been put together then painted a soft lavender two days previously, and ran it along the taped lines of the box closest to her. One of about fifty. The contents within each needed to be unpacked and placed on the shelves in an eye-catching matter.
Not that the eye-catching part would be hard. The holographic, iridescent and glittery materials that made up so much of the stock would certainly draw people’s attention. But would it see them buy what she had to sell?
Yes. It would. It had to. She’d sunk the majority of the money she’d saved while travelling the world into this venture, and there was no way she was returning to her mother’s house, sparkly unicorn cap in hand, asking for a hot meal – or worse, for a bed to crash in until she got herself sorted out. Give her mother another chance to ignore her? To remind Poppy exactly how little her presence on this earth meant to her? Give her a chance to shut the door in her face as she had every time Poppy had come to her bedroom as a child, seeking comfort after a nightmare? That wasn’t going to happen.
‘You’re not going to give me grief for having a moment of second thought?’ Ben took a cautious step into the room. Then another. Until he was within swatting distance. Then sank down beside her, his eyes filled with caution.
Poppy shook her head. ‘’Course not. It’s normal to have freak-outs. I’m having about ten an hour. But every freak-out makes me more determined to make this work.’ She pulled out a tissue-covered package and carefully unwrapped it, revealing a crystal figurine: a unicorn, rearing up, its mane tossing in unseen wind, its horn sparkling with gold and silver glitter.
‘That is the ugliest thing I’ve ever seen in my entire life.’ Ben’s voice held equal awe and disgust.
Poppy set the figurine down, then punched Ben lightly on the arm. ‘Now that you have to apologise for. How can you say such a thing? That is the epitome of class and sophistication. Every person in Muswell Hill – no, in London – no, I mean England. No.’ She shook her head. ‘Every person in the world needs a crystal unicorn in their life. They could keep it on their car’s dashboard for luck. They could have it by their bedside to keep the nightmares away. They could sit it on their windowsill so the light refracts through it, creating a smile-inducing rainbow.’ Poppy ran her thumb over the gravelly surface of the glittering horn. She smiled as a fragment flaked onto her thumb. ‘Okay, it’s a little bit ugly. But there’s a market for it. Little girls will adore it.’
Ben shook his head, reached into the box, unwrapped another figurine and passed it to Poppy to set on the shelf. ‘Frankly I can’t believe there’s a market for any of it.’
Poppy snorted. ‘Well, at least one of us is going to be happy working next to the other. Not only will I get to be surrounded by the spirit-lifting goodness that are unicorns, I’ll also be able to help myself to a cup of matcha, or Lapsang Souchong, or plain old garden variety breakfast tea with a splash of milk, any time I feel
like one. I’m going to be living the dream.’
‘Well at least one of us will be.’ Ben nudged her with his hip, then passed her another box to open. ‘At least I won’t have to go far to buy you a birthday present I know you’ll love.’
‘Oh, shush.’ Poppy lifted her finger to his lips. ‘You know I don’t do birthdays.’
Ben grinned, then took her finger in his hand. ‘We’ll see about that. Now, less talking, more unpacking.’
Poppy wiggled her finger free, grabbed the box cutter and sliced into another box, and pulled out a smaller box. Printed on the side of the plain brown packaging was an image of the unicorn mug held inside. The tail forming the mug’s handle, a swirled golden unicorn horn poked out opposite the handle, and painted on either side of the mug were big black eyes complete with lush, long glitter-dusted lashes.
She pulled up the box’s lid and lifted the mug out. ‘Where should we put this? It would look great next to those fancy double-walled glass teacups of yours…’
Ben held his hands up, as if warding her off. Her, or her unicorn mug. ‘No. No way. We have a deal, remember? Under no circumstances will I be allowing any of that… that uncouth frippery into my side of the business.’
‘Frippery?’ A giggle tumbled out of Poppy’s mouth. ‘Well that’s a new word to me. I like it. And, fine. I won’t put my mugs alongside your precious glassware. I was just testing the waters. Testing the boundaries. You know how I am.’
‘Indeed, I do.’ Ben sighed. ‘So, how do you feel about a tea tasting? Sophie and Joe should be here any minute, and I was going to hold a tasting for them since it’s important they know what they’re talking about.’
‘Hold on. Hold up. What? Joe’s doing the tasting? He’s my helper. Not yours.’ Poppy wagged her finger. ‘I will not have you seducing him with your aromatic ways.’
‘Plonker.’ Ben picked up the crystal unicorn, turned it over in his hands, then held it up to Poppy. ‘If Joe’s sick, and you’re unwell, who do you think will look after your shop?’
Understanding dawned on Poppy. ‘I would say you, but we both know you’d sooner take a dip in the boating lake at Ally Pally in the middle of winter.’
‘Exactly. We need to have Sophie and Joe up to speed on both sides of the shop.’
Ben turned and made his way to the kitchen, Poppy followed in his wake and took in the set-up he’d put together.
Five glass teapots sitting atop warmers, were placed on the bench. Each pot held a strainer, in which different teas were releasing tantalising aromas into the surrounding air. While various colours – grassy greens, vibrant pinks, and mahogany browns – softened as they blended out into the hot water.
The squeak of the door alerted them to the arrival of Sophie and Joe.
Attach door chimes and fix the squeak, Poppy reminded herself, trying to ignore the stepping up of her pulse as another item was added to her list.
‘We’re here,’ Joe announced. ‘On time, too. Look at us being responsible workers. Must mean we’re due a pay rise?’ He winked as Sophie closed her eyes, shaking her head in a long-suffering manner, just the way Poppy had seen Ben do all the time when they were younger.
‘Convince your grandfather to lower the rent by another fifteen per cent and it’s a deal,’ Poppy shot back. ‘In lieu of more money you can have free tea. Look at this spread Ben’s put on for us.’
‘Is it meant to smell like that?’ Joe’s nose wrinkled. ‘I mean, there’s fruity whiffs from that one.’ He pointed to the tea that was blossoming a pinky-red. ‘But that green one’s… weird.’
‘That green one is Japanese green tea. Sencha, to be precise.’ Ben lifted the pot and poured a little into three cups, then passed a cup to each of them. ‘Try it.’
Poppy tried not to laugh as Joe’s face screwed up when he lifted the cup to his lips and sipped. ‘It’s…’
‘Really something,’ Sophie piped up, then took another sip, smacking her lips together. ‘Fresh. Almost zesty.’
Poppy sipped the tea. ‘Kind of grassy, but not in a gross way. And almost… seaweed-ish? Or am I imagining that?’
‘No, you’re not imagining it.’ Ben nodded his approval. ‘It’s all that. And the reason it’s a nice kind of grassy is because it’s quality.’ He rounded up their empty glasses and rinsed them out. ‘Now try this.’ He poured the pinky concoction. ‘This is a fruit tea, also known as a tisane. Tell me what you taste.’
Joe took a sip. ‘Too easy. Strawberry. It’s yum.’
‘And?’ Ben raised an eyebrow.
‘There’s more?’ Sophie set her cup down and tapped her finger on her chin.
‘Apple.’ Poppy grinned. ‘Definitely apple.’
‘You really do have a good nose.’ Ben’s eyes widened. ‘Maybe you should be working on my side of the shop.’
‘Don’t know about my nose, but my eyes can see bits of apple drifting about in the infuser.’ Poppy set her cup down and ducked out of the way as Ben went to give her a friendly flick. ‘It is creamy though.’
‘That’s because it’s a strawberry and cream tisane. Or did you see the tin it came from?’ Ben went about rinsing the glasses fresh for the next tasting.
‘No. Just tasted it. Turns out my tongue’s quite talented.’ Heat rushed to Poppy’s cheeks that had nothing to do with the warmth of the tea. Beside her Joe and Sophie snorted into their closed fists, their faces matching the colour of the strawberry tea. Meanwhile Ben began to cough, his eyes filling with tears.
‘Omigod, I’m so sorry. That sounded…’
‘Filthy.’ Joe filled in the blank.
‘And hilarious,’ Sophie added. ‘Keep that up and I might enjoy working here.’
Poppy went to remind Sophie she was lucky to be here, that she and Ben were the only people willing to take her and Joe on, but held her tongue as the door squeaked, announcing a visitor to the store.
‘Hello?’ A voice as smooth as Ben’s tisane floated through the air to greet them. ‘Anyone there?’
‘Are you expecting another delivery?’ Ben asked as he straightened up and wiped his eyes.
‘No. I’ve got all I need. You?’
Ben shook his head as he put on a welcoming smile and marched into the main shop. ‘Welcome to Sparkle & Steep, what can we help you with today?’
Poppy trailed after him, and lounged against the doorway, curious to see who the visitor was.
The unexpected visitor turned to face Ben, a bright smile on her face. ‘Oh, this place is divine. A high-end tea shop? Genius. I love it. You’ve done a marvellous job, Ben. Now I hope you don’t mind my popping in unexpectedly, but my mother saw your mother and mentioned your shop was close to opening, so I simply had to come by, say hello, and have a sneak peek.’ The woman laid her perfectly manicured hand on his forearm and gave it a squeeze.
There was something familiar about her, but Poppy couldn’t quite put her finger on it. She clearly knew Ben, felt comfortable striking up a conversation with him, but she was dressed too… well, too much like Poppy to be someone he knew. Denim cut-off shorts, frayed at the bottom, were embroidered with multi-coloured flowers around the pockets. Her cream camisole was loose and billowy, yet sheer enough you could see her turquoise bra underneath.
Her hair was the perfect blonde. Not too white, not too yellow. Princess golden… just like…
‘Oh my God.’ Poppy took a step forward, her eyes wide, hand covering her mouth. ‘Milly? Is that you?’
Ben squinted in an effort to see what Poppy was seeing. Milly? His Milly? No. Surely not…
Oh hell. It was Milly. But the carefully curled blonde locks she’d sported when they were younger were now effortlessly beachy and tumbling down her back and over her bare shoulders. The formerly nude lips were now a bright red pout. And the smile was bright-white and straight. Milly Smith, his teenage girlfriend, had gotten her teeth straightened, possibly whitened, and had grown into a woman.
A beautiful one at that.
Blood
y hell.
‘In the flesh.’ Milly grinned and did a quick shimmy.
Milly shimmied? When did Milly shimmy? She was a wallflower when they were young. Her idea of revealing clothing had been a skirt that sat on her knee. Or a boatneck top as opposed to a turtle neck.
Milly took another step into the shop, picked up the unicorn ornament and held it up to the light, sending a skittering of rainbows across the floor. ‘Interesting.’ She set it back down, her distaste obvious.
‘Shooting for a younger target market than you with that, I’m afraid.’ Poppy crossed the floor, swept up the ornament and placed it on a shelf. ‘Everything will be out by tomorrow when we open. Maybe you should pop back then and have a look?’
‘Oh, tomorrow’s out for me. Wall-to-wall meetings, I’m afraid.’ Milly turned her back on Poppy and focused on Ben. ‘That’s why I thought I’d come by today, say hello and wish you good luck.’
‘Oh, well, hello.’ Ben shifted from foot to foot, unnerved by the way Milly was looking at him, her smile spreading wider by the second, showing off those gleaming, straight teeth. Was this how a mouse felt when cornered by a cat? ‘Have you been visiting your mum just now?’
‘No, not today. Remember when I said I’d be round these parts? What I meant was that I’ve bought a place here. I was just over there while the movers dropped off my furniture. It’s so nice to settle down, lay some roots, have a place to call my own. Life can’t be all cocktails and dancing ’til dawn…’ Milly glanced over at Poppy, her upper lip curling in disdain.
Ben mashed his lips together as Poppy ripped into a box with her bare hands, her eyes murderous. He didn’t want to believe that Milly was taking a pot shot at Poppy’s lifestyle, but the two had never seen eye-to-eye when they were younger. Milly believed Poppy was a bad influence on Ben, whereas Poppy thought Milly far too boring to spend time on. Yet that hadn’t stopped Poppy from urging him to go out with Milly in the first place. Something he’d never quite figured out. One of the many Poppy mysteries he’d yet to uncover.
The Little Unicorn Gift Shop Page 5