Page 111 of The Little Teashop of Lost and Found
On the Tuesday, Daisy, Tilda’s niece, called in to see me and she was exactly how Tilda had described her: dressed head to foot in black and very gloomy, with world-weary blue eyes ringed in smudgy dark eyeliner and an uncompromisingly straight-lipped mouth enhanced by deep plum lipstick. In fact, there was more than a hint of Morticia Addams about her.
She was evidently cut from the same terse, brusque mould as Tilda and Nell, and I suspected would have the same ideas about customer service. I asked her about her college course and her ambitions and it turned out she wanted to work in hospitality …
But anyway, I offered her the part-time job helping Tilda to clear and clean, and she accepted it, so that was another thing sorted.
When I let her out, I found a small package in the letter box: there was a note with it from Geeta, saying Teddy had asked her to drop it off while she was in town shopping, but she hadn’t wanted to disturb me.
It was the DNA test kit that we’d sent for, and when I took it up to the flat and read the instructions, I realized I was totally out of date with how these things were done.
It wasn’t a matter of simply swabbing the inside of my mouth with a cotton bud, but instead involved spitting into a test tube – yes, really.
Yuck.
By now I was totally convinced I’d wasted my money on it, but I didit, then put it in the enclosed pre-paid packaging and went out to pop it in the post box.
You know you’ve been cooped up writing for too many hours when the weak October sun seems unbearably bright and everything sort of shimmers.
But the pull of the story drew me right back – and just as well, because when I turned on the laptop again there was a message from Senga, reminding me, as if I needed it, that the book must be emailed to her on Friday.
Just before I flitted back into Fairyland, it occurred to me that it was ages since I’d heard from Robbie. Maybe he’d found another girlfriend in Australia and changed his mind about coming over? Or was still intending to come over, but had changed his mind about wanting to see me?
TheUpvale and District Gazettewas eager to interview me for an article and fell in with my suggestion that it should take place at Oldstone Farm on Saturday. By then I’d have finished and sent off my book and be back in what passed for my right mind.
They sent a photographer round to take some pictures of the teashop first, though since I wasn’t expecting him to take any of me, I probably looked like a loopy bag lady in them.
But apart from this slightly unsettling interlude, by Thursday afternoon my writing was flying along, my head full of evil fairies, stroppy princessesand the joyful exhilaration of dashing towards the finishing post.
Beauty kissed Kev again and this time he responded with such enthusiasm that buds broke out on the interlaced branches above their heads, bluebirds swooped across the sky and a unicorn appeared and began to crop the emerald-green turf …
They were too lost in the moment to notice the portal that had opened behind them, but Prince S’Hallow did.
‘Let us go back to my own world,’ he said, leading Shaz towards it. ‘Your lovely hair will be crowned with gold and your white throat encircled by diamonds no less sparkling than your eyes.’
‘What, real ones?’ she asked, as they stepped through and vanished into the Once-upon-a-time.
The mouse hastened to follow before the portal closed, carrying a half-eaten chocolate bar, purloined from Kev’s jacket pocket while he was otherwise occupied. It wasn’t the heavenly single estate Criollo chocolate he’d tasted on a previous trip, but it was better than nothing …
‘Alice, you’ve got a visitor,’ shouted Jack up the stairs, jerking me suddenly back to the Here-and-now, and then, before I’d completely registered what he was saying, there was a loud thundering of heavy feet and the next second Robbie was in the room.
‘What on earth …?’ I began, getting up, and then lost my breath as I was swept into a crushing bear hug.
‘Alice – beautiful as ever!’ he said, planting a kiss on my lips before I could take evasive action. I was a bit slow, because most of my head was still in Fairyland and I didn’t feel remotely pleased to be wrenched out of it.
I pushed him away and told him so in no uncertain terms, and he looked hurt.
‘But I’ve hired a car and driven all the way up here from London to see you – and that’s all the welcome I get!’
I softened slightly; he looked so big, so boyish and so very crestfallen! ‘Of course I’m pleased to see you, you daft lump, but I wish you’d warned me you were coming, because I’d no idea you were even in the country yet.’
‘I thought I had,’ he said, giving me that kicked-puppy look again. He didn’t seem to have changed much in the seven or so years since I’d last seen him, butIcertainly had, and although I was still fond of him, I found him slightly exasperating, too.
‘Well, you didn’t,’ I said with some asperity, ‘and I’ve got to finish my new book and email it off to my agent tomorrow, so I simply don’t have time for a visitor right now.’
‘Oh, but you don’t need to worry aboutme,’ he said breezily, recovering his bounce. ‘I’ll bring my bag up and settle in and you’ll hardly know I’m here. Then we can spend the weekend together, can’t we?’
‘Look, Robbie, I can’t do with you or anyone else around until I’ve finished,’ I said bluntly.
‘Oh, come on, Alice,’ he coaxed, putting his arms around me again. ‘You know you’re glad to see me really, and I promise not to disturb you till tomorrow.’
