The Little Unicorn Gift Shop

by Kellie Hailes

  ‘Damn it. You know me too well. In that case, I’d better go wash this filthy bod of mine.’ She swivelled on her heel, then glanced over her shoulder. Ben’s eyes snapped up, having clearly been focused on something a little lower and rounder than the back of her head. ‘You. Sit. Eat. And leave my coffee alone. The queen commands it.’

  Ben pressed his palms together and nodded a silent oath, then made his way back to the dining table. ‘Why do I have a feeling giving you a little bit of power for one day was a bad idea?’

  ‘I’d like to promise that I won’t take things too far… but then, where would the fun be in that?’ She winked, then sauntered towards the bathroom. Maybe the one day of the year she avoided thinking about at all costs wasn’t going to be so horrid after all.

  ***

  Ben checked his watch. Again. How long did it take Poppy to get ready? What was she doing in that bathroom? It had been twenty minutes already, and it wasn’t like she was the kind of girl to spend half an hour on her makeup. Or at least he didn’t think she was. She always looked fresh and natural to him.

  He eyed the last of his mille-feuille. As tempting as it was with its rich custard, flaky puff pastry, and shiny glazed icing, if he ate it he’d struggle to get through the lunch he’d organised. Poppy was going to die of happiness when she saw what he’d pulled together. If that didn’t make her realise how special she was to him, then nothing would.

  He stood and stretched his arms above his head, then strolled around the small living area. Maybe a few steps would make some extra room in his stomach. At the very least it would help pass the time. Picking up the plates, he dumped temptation into the rubbish bin, then rinsed the cutlery and set it in the dishwasher. Glancing around he noticed the walls were dotted with black and white photographs that hadn’t been there the last time.

  He moved to the closest one. A picture of Poppy in a string bikini on the beach, her arm slung round the shoulder of some guy. Some tall, curly-headed, too-handsome-to-not-notice guy. Their smiles were wide, laughter in their eyes, and they were both doing the peace sign to the camera. In the background a young fellow, swimming in the water, had photobombed the picture, sticking out his tongue and crossing his eyes. An act that would usually have seen Ben laugh, but instead jealousy snaked around his heart, squeezing it tight. His temples pounded as he focused on the happy couple.

  If they were that happy they’d still be together, he reminded himself. And you don’t know that they were a couple.

  Ben forced his leaden feet to move to the next photo. Another shot of Poppy and the mystery man. Except this time he had his arms thrown around her and another woman, and they were standing on one of what looked like a million steps. Machu Picchu, Ben realised. Was there anywhere Poppy hadn’t travelled?

  God, what did she think of him and his homely ways? Sure, he’d left England, but only to go where so many others went. Boozy stag weekends with the boys in Dublin. The odd summer holiday in Malaga. Skiing in the Swiss Alps. More often than not his mother would join him. His father, too, if he could be forced out of the office.

  Poppy must think him the most boring sod she’d ever met. In Ben’s eyes opening his shop had been a big deal. An adventure. Yet she’d travelled to the ends of the earth, seen sights he could only imagine, experienced all the world had to offer…

  After everything she’d done she’d find his birthday plans for her positively pedestrian. Doubt gnawed at his insides. What had he been thinking trying to surprise Poppy? The plan had been to spoil her, entertain her, sprinkle some Poppy-style magic into her life. To try and transform that attitude of hers that romantic love didn’t exist. To show her how much he cared for her. To show her what love felt like. What love made people do. But were his plans enough to impress someone as worldly as Poppy?

  Ben walked over to the next photo. A profile of Poppy sitting on a jagged rock, looking out towards a stormy sea. White caps dotting the turbulent waters. Tendrils of hair flew back in the stiff wind. Her face solemn. Bereft.

  The previous photos were of the Poppy that she chose to show the world. Happy go lucky, smiley, easy to laugh. But this photo? It was the Poppy only he knew.

  He, and whoever took the photo. The guy? Or someone else? A friend she’d made along the way? The jealousy that had eased off returned, slamming into his gut.

  He’d always thought of Poppy as being his. Not a possession, but… his soulmate. The one person he could tell anything too, and vice versa. But someone else had seen the real Poppy, and it ripped him up inside.

  ‘You like that?’

  Ben spun round to see Poppy dressed in faded denim shorts that hugged her thighs and hips in a way that was going to drive him mad, and a plain olive scoop-necked T-shirt that skimmed over her curve of her breasts. She’d accessorised with big gold hoop earrings, and that was that. Simply stylish. That was his Poppy.

  ‘What? No unicorn onesie just to spite me?’ He swallowed the jealousy. There was no point in indulging that emotion. If anyone had meant anything to her then Poppy would have brought them home. Or stayed where they were.

  Or would she? She’d run from home. Run from him. Who was to say that she wouldn’t do that to another?

  ‘No onesie. As much as I have an affection for unicorns I’m not quite as mad for them as Joe. He can get away with it being the bright, shiny young thing he is. But me? It’s better I sell them than wear them.’ Poppy stood beside him, so close he could feel the residual heat from the shower emanating off her. ‘Anyway, I wouldn’t want this horrid charade of a day ruining unicorns for me.’ That easy smile he knew so well shaved the sharp edge off the words.

  ‘You’re mad, Poppy. Did anyone ever tell you that?’

  Poppy flashed him a toothy grin. ‘A million times. And you didn’t answer my question. Do you like that photo?’

  ‘I do. It’s… you. The private you.’ Ben glanced out of the corner of his eye, wanting to catch Poppy’s reaction. Her face remained impassive.

  ‘I think that’s why I like it. It was taken on this blustery day in this tiny town called Kaikoura – it’s in the South Island of New Zealand. I’d gone for a ramble and finished up in South Bay, a small settlement just outside of town with a gorgeous pebbled beach that frames the land. The beach has these amazing clay-coloured rock formations, all jagged and random, and – this will sound mad – but that day they called to me. So I ambled over them, nearly breaking my ankle half a dozen times, sat down as close to the sea as I could get, and just… let myself be.’ Poppy’s eyes shut, her chest rose and fell evenly. An aura of peace surrounded her. It was like she was there again. ‘I allowed the wind to push me round as it saw fit. Let the sea spray from the waves crashing onto the rocks settle on my face, my clothes, my hair. I breathed in the briny air. Let my mind wander. And eventually I asked the universe some pretty big life questions.’

  ‘And did the universe answer?’

  ‘It did.’ Poppy opened her eyes, clear and bright, the corners of her lips lifting in a small smile. ‘The universe told me it was time to go home. So I went back to the backpackers’ hostel I was staying in and booked my ticket home, then called you.’

  Ben looked at the picture with renewed interest. This wasn’t Poppy being Poppy, this was the moment something changed inside of Poppy. ‘If you were alone, who took the picture?’

  ‘A local photographer. They were roaming round and saw me, snapped this shot, then waited for me to come to my senses and asked me if I’d like to be sent a copy.’ Poppy touched the frame of the photo. ‘It’s one of my favourite memories from my travels. One of the most special. Maybe even the most special. That moment changed my life. My destiny.’

  Hope swelled hot and heavy in Ben’s heart. That moment brought you home. Back to me. Where you belong.

  Resolve beat away any lingering doubt. He was going to make today the best birthday Poppy had ever had. He was going to give her every reason to never leave home, ever again.

  Chapter 14


  Poppy yearned to tug off the blindfold hiding the world from her, but knew to do so would earn her a stern word from Ben. And ruin all of the hard work he had clearly put into today. He had also made some very strong threats…

  The glitter would disappear from the Jammy Dodgers.

  He’d stop baking her favourite lemon drizzle cake.

  And the unicorn-printed sugar bowl she’d sneakily placed on the table closest to the window would be removed.

  Poppy couldn’t help but laugh when that last threat had come out. Ben had been so po-faced, but she hadn’t missed the way he’d attempted to secretly suck in his cheeks to stop himself from laughing.

  It seemed her plan to infuse unicorn magic into his life was working. His strait-laced fashion sense had given way to shirt buttons no longer done right up to the neck. And instead of ignoring the world as it passed them by he’d taken the time to laugh and joke with strangers who’d been amused to see a man leading a woman wearing a crown down the street to… well, wherever it was he was taking her.

  ‘Are we there yet?’ She sniffed the air. An earthy scent surrounded them, and the temperature had dropped. The rustle of leaves met her ears. ‘I know that smell.’

  ‘I should hope so. I feel like we spent most of our childhood roaming about in here.’

  Ben’s grip tightened as he guided her up a flight of stairs. ‘Nearly there, Pops. Take three steps forward.’

  Poppy obeyed. The air changed around her, from moist and cool to warm and dry. A tug at the back of her head saw the blindfold fall from her eyes.

  She blinked, trying to accustom herself to the light after the gloom of the blindfold. Blinked again, this time in surprise. What was she seeing?

  Fairy lights were draped around the perimeter of the small cabin, and criss-crossed back and forth across the room, giving the space a magical golden glow. Dotted round the room were potted plants – yuccas, mop-topped Elephant’s Foot, ficus, and palms – giving the ambience of a tropical jungle.

  Poppy looked down to see faux grass had been rolled out the length of the cabin’s floor and, in the middle of the room surrounded by flickering LED candles, was a giant mushroom. Red with white spots, and flat on top. On either side of it were two smaller flat-topped mushrooms, one painted green with white spots, the other pink with white spots. Sitting beside the mushrooms was a wicker picnic basket, so full she could see a bottle of champagne poking out of one its lids, and the tip of a baguette from the other.

  ‘Happy birthday, Poppy.’ Ben’s voice was low, taut with tension, his skin a few shades paler than usual.

  Did he think she wouldn’t like this? That she hated her birthday so much that she wouldn’t love the effort he’d made to make the one day a year that she’d rather didn’t exist special?

  ‘You did this.’ It wasn’t a question. And Ben didn’t answer. ‘You did it for me.’

  Ben touched the small of her back, an intimate gesture that sent a delightful shiver up her spine. ‘Please, sit, Queen Poppy Taylor, Ruler of the World, the Galaxy and the Universe beyond.’

  Poppy giggled. ‘Please tell me you’re not going to call me that for the rest of today? Your tongue will drop off from exhaustion.’

  ‘Is that a royal ruling?’ Ben tapped the top of her crown.

  ‘I command you to call me Poppy.’ She gave what she hoped was a regal nod.

  ‘Good, thank you. I must admit I was fearing for my tongue’s longevity.’ Unshouldering his backpack, Ben rifled through its mysterious contents and drew out a glittering glass flute. ‘For you.’

  ‘Wow.’ Poppy held her gift up to the light, and admired the shimmering colours of gold and silver, pink and purple, orange and red. ‘I need to get these for the shop.’

  ‘But they’re not unicorn themed.’ Ben grabbed the champagne bottle and placed it on the table.

  ‘We need to open a second store then. You can do what you do, as you do, if that’s what you want to do, and I’ll branch out. One of my stores can be unicorn-themed, the other can be rainbow-themed. It’d be amazing. I’d swan between the two, soaking up equal amounts of unicorn-induced happiness and rainbow-made magic.’

  Ben set the baguette on the table, along with a cheese knife, and a platter on which he piled cheeses, meats, olives and grapes. ‘I knew I should have rethought that crown. More trouble than it’s worth. At this rate you’ll have us going global.’

  ‘We could, you know.’ Poppy picked up the baguette and ripped off a chunk. ‘Can you imagine it? I could travel the world setting up the stores, hiring people, organising fit outs, training people up. You could stay here, do all the business stuff, which you’re great at, and, let’s be honest, I’m not. We’d be bazillionaires by the time we’re forty.’ Poppy sliced off a hunk of gooey Brie, slathered it on the bread and popped it in her mouth. ‘God, this is good. You’ve spoilt me, Ben.’

  ‘Least I could do, Poppy.’

  The words were kind but there was no enthusiasm backing them up. Poppy ignored the danger of swallowing half-chewed bread and did it anyway. ‘Are you okay? You’ve gone quiet all of a sudden. Did I say something daft?’

  ‘No. Nothing. Really. It’s… nothing.’ Ben dismissed her query with a wave and smiled brightly. Too brightly.

  ‘Is it the talk of expanding? Too much, too fast? Sorry, you know me. Give me an inch and all that.’ Poppy pulled a grape off the bunch, popped it in her mouth and used the excuse to chew as a reason to think. Was it the talk of branching out that had upset Ben… or the talk of her leaving him behind while she travelled the world setting up stores? The half-eaten wodge of bread and cheese felt like a rock in her gullet. How insensitive was she? It sounded like she was abandoning Ben. Leaving him to run everything and do the hard yards, while she went gallivanting about the place. No wonder he looked like a dog who’d had his favourite toy taken away. ‘When I said I’d travel the world setting up shops I didn’t mean I wouldn’t come back. I would. All the time. This would be our base. I wouldn’t leave you, Ben. I promise.’

  Ben shook his head as he opened the champagne, releasing the pressure with a hint of a pfft, then poured it elegantly into the flutes. ‘I said it’s nothing, Poppy. Just forget about it.’ He picked up his glass and took a long sip.

  ‘No, I won’t forget about it. Look at what you’ve done, Ben.’ She opened her arms wide and glanced around at the fantastical décor, seeing things she’d not noticed before. Delicate fairy lights hung off the branches of the bushes. A unicorn cake, complete with cascading mane and golden horn was set to the side on its own table. Vases filled with daisies and gerberas were placed in every corner of the room. ‘You’ve given me something I never expected to have. Something I didn’t even know I wanted.’ She dragged her stool round to be nearer to Ben, took his hands in hers, and stroked his knuckles, white with tension, hoping to ease out whatever worries, whatever tension he was holding tight inside.

  ‘I couldn’t let this day go by without at least trying. It’s been far too long since we’ve had one of our birthdays in the same country, Poppy.’ Ben’s gaze didn’t leave his glass, his eyes following the strands of bubbles that made their way to the top before breaking on the surface.

  Poppy ducked her head, forced him to focus on her. ‘I’m glad you didn’t. Coming home – coming home to you – was the best decision I’ve ever made.’

  ‘Better than travelling the world? Seeing the sights I’ve only ever read about in books? Hanging out with… exotic-looking men.’

  Ben’s cheeks flushed red, and Poppy suspected it had nothing to do with the alcohol.

  ‘You saw the picture of Diego?’ Poppy couldn’t help but grin. Ben was jealous? Because she’d made another man-friend? Or, jealous in another way? In a romantic way? ‘Ben, Diego is a friend. He’s now married to Martine. The girl in the photo at Machu Picchu. And they’ve made the most adorable baby you’ve ever seen.’

  ‘Oh.’ Ben straightened up, the colour returned to his knuckles. ‘How did you
meet them?’

  ‘The usual way. At a backpackers’ hostel. We got on, so travelled together. It was good fun. We did Thailand, Vietnam, Cambodia. A good chunk of South America, as you saw. Got each other into scrapes, got each other out of scrapes. But we always had each other’s backs, which was nice after travelling solo for so long. And you know, it was really quite wonderful watching those two fall in love.’ Poppy grinned. The attraction had been obvious from the start. The way the two after a few beers would sit a little closer. Find excuses to touch each other. Gravitated to each other, without even realising it most of the time.

  Kind of like she did with Ben.

  Shit.

  The realisation whipped her breath away.

  She was serious when she said she’d never leave Ben. Not again. Not for any great length of time. But it had nothing to do with the business. Or their friendship. It was because, despite the blocks she’d set up around herself to stop it from happening, from the feelings she’d tried to hide away in the deepest darkest mental-closet she had, she was falling for him. Again.

  ‘I thought you didn’t believe in love?’

  Ben’s knees were touching hers. Bare skin on bare skin. Tingles sparked up her thighs, to areas more covered. When did knees get so erotic, Poppy half-wondered as she noticed at some point their fingers had intertwined.

  ‘I don’t. I mean. I don’t think I do. Shit, maybe I’m beginning to? Just a little?’ Poppy squeezed her eyes shut, tight as they could go. How had she let this happen? It was the kiss. The kisses. First his. Then hers. Then all this sweetness… this caring… directed at her. For her. It had all combined to not so much chisel away at her wall so much as drive a sledgehammer through it.

  She opened her eyes to see Ben’s lips mashed together, his eyes damp with unshed tears. ‘If you are planning on laughing at me, Ben Evans, then you’d better be prepared to find out what it feels like to have Brie smushed into your face.’