Page 11 of The Little Shop on Silver Linings Street
Amos gave a courtly bow. Hanging back to let everyone else go first, Daisy was able to watch him for a moment.
There was nothing especially remarkable about him. He was of medium height, with jet-black curly hair, and was wearing jeans and a thick Guernsey sweater plus the red boots of course. But there was something about his face that seemed so familiar to Daisy, as if she had known him all her life. He looked up and caught her watching him, forcing her to look away quickly, but not before she saw a flash of something in his eyes too. Part of her wanted to find out what, but the other part was terrified.
Soon, everyone else had filled their plates and Daisy went forward. Not to have done so would have looked odd, but she was always nervous of any food she hadn’t made herself, and if it wasn’t plain then she would struggle.
‘Everything is vegetarian,’ said Flora. ‘I hope that’s okay. It just seemed easier in the long run…’ She smirked. ‘Actually, I forgot to put dietary information on the booking forms,’ she admitted. ‘So it’s my fault.’ She looked up at Daisy, sensing her hesitation. ‘Oh God, you’re not a vegan, are you?’
Daisy shook her head, smiling hesitantly. ‘No… just a fusspot, I’m afraid. I don’t like things that are… complicated.’
Most people usually pulled a face when Daisy said that or, at the very least, told her that she didn’t know what she was missing. ‘Go on, just try it’, was another phrase she cringed at. But Flora just smiled.
‘Cheese?’ she suggested. ‘Or there’s egg sandwiches, which make me shudder personally but I’m told everyone likes. Everyone but me, obviously. There’s nothing else with it, only a little salad cream. And the quiche is mushroom if you fancy that.’
Daisy stared at her in wonderment. Two of her favourite fillings, and the sandwiches were made from thick doorsteps of granary bread which she would have sworn was homemade. Daisy couldn’t abide white bread. It really was the strangest thing. Growing up, she had worried endlessly about all the things that made her different from everyone else, but her brother always told her that one day she would find the others, as he called them – people just like her who had little oddities – and she would instantly forget that she had ever considered herself different. And now here she was, and it was happening just as her brother had said it would. It couldn’t have come at a better time. She nodded enthusiastically and began to fill her plate.
Once it was full she really had no other excuse for not saying what was on her mind and, screwing up her courage, she turned to Flora.
‘After lunch, would you mind helping me with something?’ she asked. ‘Or rather, would you give me your opinion on it? I’ve had an idea and I’m really not sure whether it’s good… or bad.’
‘Of course,’ Flora replied. ‘Sounds intriguing… but that’s what we’re here for, isn’t that right, Amos? We like intriguing ideas.’
Daisy started, realising that Amos had come to stand right beside her.
‘Oh, we do indeed,’ he replied, looking straight at Daisy, his eyes twinkling with amusement. ‘And, in fact, I’ve had an idea of my own and I’m absolutely certain you’re the person to help.’
4
Friday 6th December
Nineteen shopping days until Christmas
It was all Daisy could do to finish her lunch. Although they all sat in front of the log burner chatting excitedly about the morning’s progress, she only really had half her brain tuned in; the other half was busy trying to work out what on earth Amos could have meant.
Almost as soon as everyone sat back at their tables following their break, Flora came to join her, pulling out a chair and sitting down. She leaned forward, a conspiratorial look on her face.
‘Well, this is all very curious,’ she said, her voice low. ‘Apparently Amos wants to talk to you about some jewellery, but it’s a bit hush-hush, which is code for Grace mustn’t know. So he can’t come over until the coast is clear. I didn’t know you were a jeweller.’
‘I’m not,’ replied Daisy instantly, immediately pulling a face. ‘Well, not in the way Amos means, I don’t suppose. I work for Buchanans in town,’ she clarified. ‘And Amos came into the shop yesterday, obviously needing some help, but I’m afraid I was busy serving another customer and so he got my hapless assistant who is about as much use as a chocolate teapot.’
‘Oh, Isee… well, that explains it.’ Flora beamed. ‘I don’t suppose Grace will mind my telling you, but she and Amos haven’t been together that long; only since the summer actually. And you couldn’t meet two nicer people, they are absolutely made for one another. It’s so romantic.’
Daisy gave a little inward sigh of pleasure. Vicarious pleasure or not, it was still pleasure.
‘So, Amos has obviously got a Christmas present for Grace in mind,’ added Flora. ‘I wonder what he wants to get her?’ She grinned. ‘Oh, that’s gotmeexcited now.’ She looked down at the table. ‘Sorry, that’s not helping you at all, is it? What was it you wanted to ask me?’
But before Daisy could even reply, Flora spotted what she’d been working on and picked up one of the clay leaves Daisy had just made.
‘What are these…?’ Flora asked, looking up. ‘How on earth did you make them?’
The leaf that she had picked up was one that Daisy had pressed into clay just a few moments ago – an ivy leaf, its rich veining perfectly transferred onto the surface. She had then cut out the leaf shape from the clay, leaving an almost exact replica of the original.
Daisy cocked her head to the side, looking at it critically. ‘I’m not sure whether what I have in mind will work,’ she said. ‘But I wondered whether it would be possible to make a wreath that would last indefinitely, and to which I could then add these.’ She fingered the clay shape.
Flora frowned slightly, but nodded. ‘Well you could, but…’
Flora was interested, but Daisy could see that she didn’t understand what she was looking at. And then Daisy realised that she hadn’t explained herself at all well. She picked up the clay leaf again. ‘This is silver,’ she explained. ‘Or at least, it will be, once it’s fired.’
Flora’s eyes widened. ‘Silver?’ She turned the leaf over, seeing only the dull grey surface. ‘Do you mean you paint it?’
