by Linda Finlay
‘Good morning, my dear, I’m sure you will remember me. ’ Eliza stared at the well-dressed woman, something about her overdone appearance chiming in the recesses of her mind.
‘Of course, madam, how lovely to see you again,’ Eliza gushed, deeming deference the reaction someone of her stature would expect.
‘Last year, when I was looking for a Christmas present for my future daughter-in-law, Daphne, you were particularly helpful.’ At the mention of the name, a chord struck.
‘Of course, madam, and I seem to remember you were most generous in your choice. I trust she liked her green velvet-lined box tied with that gorgeous gold bow?’
The woman’s face lit up. ‘You do remember, clever girl. Daphne was indeed impressed. In fact, her gift was the talk of the town. Therefore, I would like you to make up boxes of the new perfume I have heard so much about, along with all the matching products. I take it you are still offering the same service?’
‘Indeed, madam,’ Eliza assured, her spirits soaring. This year she would be able to buy quality material and ribbons, and really go to town with her wrappings.
‘Good. I know it’s early to be thinking of Christmas, but we shall be over-wintering en famille in warmer climes, so if you could have ten boxes made up in varying coloured materials, all with elaborate bows, I’ll have Jenson call to collect them in a week’s time. I shall, of course, give him the means by which to settle my account. Present buying en masse can be such a headache and I can’t tell you what a relief it is to have everything sorted in one go. Good day to you.’ She swept from the shop, leaving Eliza staring after her. An order for ten boxes might be remarkable but it had made Eliza realize she was nowhere near ready for the lead-in to Christmas, as Monsieur Farrant had called it.
Hearing a chuckle behind her, she turned to see Nan grinning.
‘Well, you’ve started something there, Eliza. I reckon you’re going to be busier than ever once people see your pretty boxes displayed in the window.’
Eliza gulped. ‘But I haven’t even begun to organize things,’ she said, grimacing as she stared round at her rapidly diminishing stock.
‘Want a hand?’ Nan asked.
Eliza brightened then frowned. ‘But you’re meant to be retired, Nan.’
‘Pah, I’m bored stiff idling my time away upstairs alone. Decide what materials you want and I’ll go to the market later this morning.’ She glanced over at the grandmother clock in the hallway. ‘It’s almost ten o’clock, let’s go upstairs and draw a plan of action over a pot of tea. We will hear the bell jangle if someone comes in,’ she said, bustling towards the stairs.
Heads together, they discussed which colours would best complement the little black bottles of perfume, jars of salts and tablets of soaps. Eliza wanted something festive yet reminiscent of the sea, and they settled on turquoise with coral for the different lining materials then silver and gold ribbons for contrasting bows. Over a second cup of tea, they decided what sizes of boxes they would use and the pricing of them. Then Nan snatched up her basket and happily took herself off, leaving Eliza to work out how much extra stock they’d need. As she worked, she couldn’t help thinking about Farrant’s threats. He blew hot and cold so she just hoped they’d been empty ones.
With her plan worked out, she discussed it with Grandfa Sam over supper. Although she’d taken delivery of her new equipment some weeks before and could distil in larger quantities, she now required more plant material. With the promise of extra pocket money provided he behaved, Luke was dispatched at the weekend, under the watchful eye of Sam, to gather as much as he could.
Meanwhile, Nan undertook the lining and making up of the boxes. Mindful of people’s differing means, these ranged from small ones containing a couple of soaps, to the largest which included every product in the Fae Fragrance range. Then they set to, stocking shelves and arranging the window. Keen to keep to the seaside theme, Eliza set the festive boxes around a mirror to depict water then sat little mermaid figurines on pebbles and shells in the middle. Finally she draped an old fisherman’s net, entwined with the sea berries Nan had crystallized, around the sides.
The artistic display soon drew attention from people walking by and the shop bell tinkled constantly. The uplifting fragrance of sea breezes wafting around the shop was pleasing to the customers, enticing them to linger longer and to buy. At times it was hard keeping up with the demand.
Sam joked it was turning into a family affair, for even Amos found himself serving more in the shop than the dispensary, while James helped replenish the shelves in his spare time.
‘I think Mr Sharp is going to be very pleased with your takings this month, young lady,’ Grandfa Sam chuckled one evening. He’d just finished entering the figures in the ledger and stood there rubbing his hands together with glee.
‘Yes, but I must pay you all a wage after all that hard work,’ Eliza pointed out.
‘Stuff and nonsense,’ Nan scoffed. ‘That’s what families are for.’
‘Oh, Grandfa Sam, you don’t know how much that means to me. To hear you referring to me as family is like a dream come true.’ A lump filled her throat as she stared at them all.
‘Yes, well, let’s go upstairs and have supper,’ Grandfa Sam said gruffly. ‘You joining us, Amos?’
‘No, thanks, Mrs Nell’s got a nice pie waiting for me. Couldn’t ask for a better landlady,’ he winked.
Although they were tired, the meal was convivial as they relaxed and discussed the events of the day.
‘Who would have thought our little shop would be so busy?’ Nan commented, stifling a yawn.
‘You go and sit by the fire, Nan, while I clear away,’ Eliza said, collecting their dishes together.
She carried them through to the little scullery, poured water into the bowl and added flakes. Too tired to do any more, she left the dishes to drain. It had been a long day and she was looking forward to putting her feet up and relaxing.
Making her way down the hall, she stopped in her tracks. What was that smell? She sniffed, went to the top of the stairs and sniffed again. Smoke! Without stopping to think, she hurried down the stairs and gasped. Flames were licking at the door.
‘Fire!’ she screamed, snatching up a rug from the floor.
‘Here, give that to me,’ James ordered, bursting in through the shop door and taking her by surprise. ‘Saw the smoke from the street,’ he gasped, throwing the rug over the fire. ‘Quick, get that other one.’
When both rugs had been thrown on top of the flames, they stamped on them and then stood back and watched. After a few minutes, when nothing happened, Eliza went to lift the rugs to have a look.
‘Leave those there,’ James instructed. ‘Lifting them might cause a draught and fan the flames back into life. Luckily, I don’t think the fire had time to do much damage. Are you all right?’ he asked, placing his arm around her trembling shoulders.
‘Yes … Monsieur Farrant came here threatening to set fire to our business. You don’t think this was his work, do you?’ she whispered.
‘I shall make it my business to find out,’ James assured her.
‘What’s going on?’ Grandfa Sam asked, shuffling into the room. ‘I heard shouting but it took me so long to get down those dratted stairs.’
‘Been a bit of a fire, Grandfa,’ James said, pointing to the charred rugs. ‘It’s out now but I’ll keep an eye on it just in case. You go back upstairs and tell Nan there’s nothing to worry about. Make sure young Luke doesn’t come down, though. Go on, before Eliza has us restocking her shelves,’ he teased
, when the older man hesitated.
‘No chance of that tonight. What a good job you were passing, James. It could have been so much worse,’ she muttered, staring around the shop filled with their precious Christmas stock.
‘You look all in. Go upstairs to bed. I’ll stay here and make sure everything’s safe,’ he said, putting his arm around her and gently kissing her cheek.
‘I can’t just leave you here,’ she argued, stifling a yawn.
‘You’ll be no use tomorrow if you don’t get some rest,’ he pointed out, pushing her towards the stairs. ‘Sleep tight and I’ll see you in the morning. Don’t worry, I’ll snatch some sleep on Grandfa’s consultation couch,’ he grinned.
It was only after she’d climbed into bed that she remembered there wasn’t any couch in the dispensary. Too exhausted to get up again, she closed her eyes and fell into a heavy sleep. She dreamed of huge balls of fire rolling around the shop, bouncing over the counter, until the whole place was a mass of blazing red and orange.
Unsurprisingly, she was late rising the next morning so that by the time she went downstairs James had gone home and Grandfa Sam was deep in conversation with Amos.
‘Seems like someone had it in for us,’ Grandfa Sam said, holding up two strips of burned rag. ‘James reckoned these were doused in paraffin and thrown in through the door. Of course, it would normally have been locked by that time, but we’ve all been working late and …’ He shrugged but he was obviously anxious.
As Eliza looked at his ashen face, anger rose up inside her like a roaring dragon.
She’d make that fiend pay if it was the last thing she did. Her thoughts were so vivid she was sure she’d spoken them aloud but Amos was still staring around the shop.
‘There doesn’t appear to be too much damage,’ he said.
‘Only the rugs that were used to contain the flames and James took those out to the yard. He also cleaned up the floor while keeping an eye out for anything suspicious. You haven’t noticed anybody loitering outside, have you?’ Grandfa Sam asked. Amos shook his head. ‘Well, keep a lookout, we don’t want any repetition.’
‘Do you think it’ll happen again?’ Eliza asked, vowing to keep watch for any sign of Farrant.
‘It might,’ Grandfa Sam sighed. ‘The best thing is not to mention this to anyone and carry on as usual. Waft some of that perfume of yours around to disguise any lingering smell of smoke. Amos, you keep an eye on the dispensary and help Eliza in the shop if things get busy. I’m going up for a rest.’ Eliza watched as Sam shuffled up the stairs and felt a pang. He looked exhausted and really didn’t need this extra worry.
‘Don’t worry, I’ll keep an eye out for Farrant,’ Amos assured her. ‘Let’s get cleared up so we can open for business.’
While Amos attended to the dispensary, Eliza quickly washed the sills of the windows and the doorframe with scented soap, then sprinkled a few drops of perfume on the displays. As the aroma of sea breezes wafted around the little shop, she felt her spirits begin to lift. Taking a good look about, she was surprised that, apart from the bare floors, there was nothing to show there had even been a fire.
Then, as the little bell tinkled and the morning rush of customers hunting for Christmas gifts began, she became too busy to reflect on the previous evening’s events. Halfway through the morning, she was reaching up to get one of the boxes from the shelf when a shadow blocking the light caused her to look up. Monsieur Farrant was staring in through the window, his lips curled in annoyance. Fire flared up inside her again and, calling to Amos to take over, she ran outside. Seeing her, Monsieur Farrant gave her a sneer and began walking away.
‘Stop right there, Farrant,’ she ordered, oblivious to the curious stares of people passing by.
Surprised by her strident tones, he paused. ‘You wish something from me, Mademoiselle?’ he smirked, sending his shiny moustache quivering like a beetle’s antennae.
‘I know you were responsible for last night’s fire …’
‘That is preposterous. The fire in your shop, why it could have been caused by anyone,’ he said, shrugging.
‘Ah, so you admit there was a fire?’
‘Well, yes, you just said so, did you not?’
‘I never said where it was,’ she pointed out.
‘You think you are clever but you have no proof,’ he hissed, moving closer. The smell of his peculiar odour wafting her way galvanized her into action.
‘I think the police would be interested to hear …’
‘As I said, you have no proof of your outrageous allegation,’ he said, moving away.
‘But I am sure they would be very interested to hear about your night-time visitors to the perfumery and what goes on in that building at the bottom of the garden.’ He stopped dead. ‘I saw it all with my own eyes the night I left.’
‘You wouldn’t dare,’ he blustered, fear sparking in his eyes.
‘Try me,’ she challenged, staring him straight in the face. ‘There are enough people here to witness what I’ve just said.’
He stared around in horror, suddenly aware of the attention they were attracting. Cursing her to hell and damnation, he turned and hurried away.
‘If you ever show your face round here again I shall make sure everyone hears about your nightly activities,’ she called after him for good measure. He broke into a run, his coat-tails flapping like sails in his wake.
‘What’s going on?’ James asked, appearing by her side. ‘I was just leaving the lifeboat station and heard you shouting. Then I saw Farrant haring up the street like the devil was after him.’
At his choice of words Eliza couldn’t help but burst out laughing.
42
Sensing they were being watched, Eliza looked up to find Nan beckoning from the upstairs window.
‘Come on, Nan’s itching to know what’s been going on,’ she said, pulling James back into the shop. ‘I’ll put you both out of your misery over one of her cure-all cuppas.’
‘Are you all right, Eliza?’ Amos asked, looking up. ‘That customer I was with dithered so long I couldn’t come and help.’
‘All sorted,’ she said, rubbing her hands together. ‘From now on, Monsieur Farrant will be nothing but an annoying fly on some distant turd.’ As Amos and James exchanged shocked looks, she chuckled. ‘Don’t worry about it, boys. That was the most satisfying experience of my life. Come on, James, let’s go and have that tea. You all right to watch the shop?’ she asked Amos, who smiled and nodded.
‘Take as long as you like. I’ve got to make sure the medicine ledger tallies before I can go home for Christmas. It’s a dog’s life,’ he moaned good-naturedly.
‘Better than being a fly on a turd, though, eh?’ James grinned, slapping him on the back.
‘Well, you certainly told that pompous-looking little man,’ Nan chuckled, as they entered into the parlour.
‘How do you know?’ Eliza asked in surprise.
‘I just happened to be shaking my duster out of the window,’ she shrugged.
Grandfa Sam snorted. ‘You had your face half out of the window, woman. I tell you, Eliza, if that man had put a step wrong she’d have been out there with her poker.’ Eliza smiled at Nan, for hadn’t she said the selfsame thing on her first day in the shop when Eliza had been worried Monsieur Farrant might come looking for her?
‘I told you Nan and Grandfa would look after you, didn’t I?’ James said.
‘Yes, and you’ve all been so kind to me,’ she said, relaxing back in her seat and staring around the cosy room. �
�And one day I intend making it all up to you. I shall pay …’ She broke off as Nan shook her head.
‘There’s really no need. As I keep saying, that’s what families are about,’ Grandfa Sam smiled. ‘Now, what was that all about outside, eh?’
Briefly Eliza told him, adding, ‘That perverted little creep will never bother us again, of that I am certain.’
‘Remind me never to get on the wrong side of you, Eliza,’ James laughed. ‘You scared the living daylights out of me, the way you were shaking your fists and looking so ferocious.’
‘Happen you’ll have to behave yourself then, our James,’ Nan chortled, pouring more tea into their cups.
‘Talking of behaving oneself, where’s young Luke?’ Grandfa Sam asked.
‘He’s tidying his side of the bedroom,’ Nan said.
‘Now I’ve heard everything. How did you manage that?’ Eliza gasped.
‘Bribery, I would imagine,’ Grandfa Sam said, grinning as Luke bounded into the room.
‘I’ve finished, so what’s my surprise?’ he asked.
‘Sit down beside me, boy, and I’ll tell you.’ Grandfa Sam waited until Luke had settled at his feet then he leaned forward. ‘As you know it’s nearly Christmas,’ he began, ‘and that man with the sleigh, what’s his name now …?’ He stroked his chin, pretending he’d forgotten.
‘You mean Father Christmas,’ Luke said.
‘That’s right. Well, at the moment he is loading his sleigh with presents and …’
‘That ain’t no good, he never comes to us,’ Luke cut in. ‘Father said he only visits rich houses where they leave him things to eat and drink.’
Grandfa Sam looked taken aback.
‘Well, I’ve news for you, young man,’ Nan said. ‘Here in Salting Regis, Father Christmas visits all girls and boys who have been good.’
Luke eyed her warily. ‘You kiddin’ me, missus?’
‘Luke,’ Eliza warned, but Nan smiled.