Page 10 of The Little Shop on Silver Linings Street
To her immense relief, however, she spied a plain digestive on one of the plates; she could cope with that. And plain tea too, that was okay. She took a seat, basking in the warmth from the fire, and began to think about what the day might bring.
It didn’t take long to find out. As soon as everyone had arrived and was clutching a hot drink, Flora sat in front of them all, a basket of materials at her feet, and explained that the day was all about finding their own way of working. There were no right or wrong ways to make a Christmas wreath, or other floral decorations for that matter, and it was all about experimentation; with colour, shape and texture. Everyone had different ideas about what worked for them, be it friendly, fun or flamboyant, and what Flora wanted was to show them some basic skills so that they could go off and apply what they had learned. And that was exactly what Daisy needed.
Daisy had never made a wreath before. She had bought them, at Christmastime, but they were always a little lacking in something. And yet the first one Flora showed them made Daisy’s eyes light up. Gone were the traditional colour scheme and ribbons. Instead, it was full of flower heads, silvery foliage and what looked suspiciously like popcorn of all things. Daisy sat entranced while Flora described the process involved to shape the wreath and what elements she was going to add to it, binding the foliage not with wire, but with whips of curly willow which themselves added to the design. The texture it created was so intriguing. Before she had even finished, Daisy was thinking of the silver clay she had brought with her. It wouldn’t hurt to ask, surely…
After three quarters of an hour, Flora had shown them how to wire bunches of a huge variety of materials so that they would stay secure, how to make bows and rosettes, and how to start weaving flower heads and foliage together to make a garland. It was enough to get them started and, standing up, she ushered everyone back through to the tables that were heaped with all the things they could choose from to create their own wreath. Daisy felt like a small child in a sweet shop.
Her eye was immediately taken by some huge hydrangea heads, dried to a soft lilac colour, some of the petals slightly more grey, others more pink.
‘Beautiful, aren’t they?’ said Flora. ‘They make the most amazing centrepieces.’
‘Did you grow these?’ asked Daisy, rather in awe.
‘Yep, and dried them.’ Flora looked up and Daisy could see bunches of flowers hanging from the beams. ‘We didn’t intend it this way, but the building turned out to be the perfect place to do it.’
‘I would never have thought of using anything like this.’
Flora smiled. ‘Most people discount them because they’re so big, but actually once they’re used in a design they look really delicate and, as long as you pick complementary colours, everything blends together beautifully.’
Daisy cast her eye along the table. ‘So maybe some of this eucalyptus would work…?’
‘That would be perfect. And you can either weave it around the wreath or just take small pieces and bunch them together to use as an accent. Have a play and see what you think.’
Daisy nodded, her fingers lingering over some ivy and small balls of something woven. She turned one over in her hand, thinking, before taking her finds back to the table she was working at. And then she sat for a few minutes letting her mind create the images she would need. The morning passed in a blur.
Daisy was so wrapped up in what she was doing that it took a few moments to realise that the atmosphere in the room had changed. Glancing up, she realised that the hum of industry had stopped and most people were looking around them expectantly. She hadn’t noticed, but where the tea and biscuits had been laid out earlier, the table was now groaning with platters of sandwiches and other savoury nibbles. Daisy had almost forgotten that lunch was being provided.
Flora waved a hand from the other end of the room.
‘Well, lunch is here folks, if you’re ready. There’s no set timetable for the day, so we can stop now. Or, if you want to carry on for a bit, that’s fine too.’
A woman closest to Flora got to her feet.
‘Oh, and feel free to wash your hands, there’s a sink in the corner.’
Daisy looked back at her wreath. She would have preferred to carry on, but she would stop if everyone else was. She bent down and took the clay from her bag, placing it on the table. She would ask Flora about it once lunch was out of the way. And if the clay was there, ready, she couldn’t pretend to herself that she had forgotten about it. She got to her feet somewhat reluctantly and was about to go and join the others when the door behind her banged.
Grace appeared in the doorway trying to manoeuvre a tray of glasses through the opening while simultaneously holding it open. She caught Daisy’s eye and grimaced.
‘Sorry, I’m letting all the cold air in.’
Daisy shot to her rescue, grabbing the door and settling a glass which looked about to topple.
‘Thanks so much, the door’s heavier than it looks. Would you mind holding it for a moment, Amos is just behind me with the drinks.’
The moment she said it, a foot braced itself against the opening and, peering around the door, Daisy came face to face with a broad smile that she had seen only once but would remember anywhere. The man’s face lit up with recognition.
‘Oh, hello again,’ he said, the smile widening even further, then dipping slightly when he realised where he had last seen her. Because this man was Amos, Grace’s partner, the man with the bright-red boots she had last seen only the day before enquiring about jewellery. It could have been for his mother, or a sister, a friend even, but Daisy would lay money on it being for Grace. In which case the last thing he would want was for Grace to know that they had already met or, more importantly,wherethey had met. Far too many surprises had been ruined in similar fashion, and Daisy’s nose for such things was finely tuned.
Daisy flicked an anxious look towards Grace, but she had already moved down the room, intent on carrying her cargo safely, and if she’d heard Amos’s greeting she made no show of it.
Daisy smiled and whispered hello, passing a surreptitious finger across her lips as she nodded towards Grace. There was a flash of understanding in Amos’s eyes.
‘Thank you,’ he replied, and they both knew it was for more than holding open the door.
She closed the door carefully behind them and followed Amos to the far end of the room, where everyone had gathered.
‘Right, come and grab something to eat, everyone,’ announced Flora. ‘Don’t stand on ceremony. This is Amos, who lives next door with Grace and, among other things, transformed this lowly cow shed into the fabulous space we have now. But for today, he’s just going to give a hand with the drinks.’
