Page 14 of The Little Shop on Silver Linings Street
The voices stopped abruptly as the sound of the doorbell jangled loudly in the expectant space.
‘Right, well now we might get some answers,’ said Lawrence, his face like thunder in the gloom.
‘Thank goodness you’re here.’ Bertie spoke this time, his usual genial manner gone.
‘Hello, Daisy,’ said Kit simply.
She stared at them in turn, her heart thumping at the harshness of their words, the coldness of their greeting. She had half a mind to turn tail and walk straight back out of the shop again but, instead, she took her bag from her shoulder and, holding it in front of her as if it were a shield, she marched straight through the middle of them and on into the back room. She closed the door behind her and as calmly as she could went to hang up her coat and hat. Then she filled the kettle and set it to boil. She took down her mug from the cupboard and placed her keys beside it, just as she always did, and then she stood, one hand bracing herself against the countertop, eyes closed and breathing deeply. Behind the door the voices started up again and she swallowed, praying that it stayed closed just for a moment. She had expected some degree of reaction following Bea’s news of the other day, but obviously her absence yesterday had not allowed heels to cool as Bea might have hoped they would. Instead, it seemed to have inflamed things even more. It really was too much.
When she felt as if she had herself marginally more under control, she quietly opened the door.
‘Good morning,’ she said, immediately holding up a hand. ‘And if any one of you raises your voice at me again, I’m putting my coat back on and going home.’ To her surprise she sounded far more fierce than she felt and it had the desired effect. Even Lawrence fell silent. ‘Would anybody like a cup of tea?’
The staffroom filled with bodies behind her as one by one the brothers trooped through. Bertie was first to speak.
‘I’m sorry, Daisy, we’re a bit… preoccupied this morning, as you might have guessed. The fact that our mother seems to have taken complete leave of her senses is rather concerning.’
‘Is that what you think she’s done?’ asked Lawrence archly. ‘It’s not madness, Bertie, it’s malicious and you know it. Mother acts like she’s constantly on stage, and you can call it eccentricity if you want to, but I’m calling it what it is, manipulative and divisive.’
Daisy winced. She’d known that Lawrence would be the most upset by Bea’s announcement. He had almost certainly assumed that the business would pass to him, but to find that he was now going to have to jump through a considerable number of hoops to secure his future was a hard pill to swallow.
He had a point. Bea did behave as if she was constantly in front of an audience, but Daisy had never known her to be malicious, just incredibly shrewd. And if Daisy knew her at all, there would be a very well-thought-out reason why she was doing this. Yet Daisy herself had been incredibly surprised by Bea’s actions on this occasion, so maybe she didn’t know Bea as well as she thought she did. Worse, if there was a point to all of this, just how did that involve Daisy?
‘Scared you’re not going to win?’ taunted Bertie.
‘Scared I am?’ Lawrence fired back.
Daisy rolled her eyes. It was going to be a very long morning. She poured hot water into each of the four mugs and began to prod the teabags, thinking.
‘One thing I do know is that it’s pointless to try and change Bea’s mind,’ she said. ‘Whatever her reasons are for doing this, I’m as much in the dark as you are, but if you want a chance to run Buchanans in the future, you may as well get used to the idea that it’s going to be on her terms. I don’t see you have much choice but to do as she’s asked.’
‘Oh, come on, Daisy, don’t act all innocent,’ added Lawrence. ‘What did she say? You must have known all this was going to happen.’
‘I didn’t actually. And I can assure you I’m not thrilled about the idea either.’ She turned to fish out the teabags, adding milk to the mugs once she had done so.
Lawrence coughed the word ‘bullshit’ into his hand. ‘Sorry, but you must really think I’m stupid if I believe that.’
‘You said it.’ Kit’s voice dropped like a soft sigh.
‘Oh, he speaks…’ retorted Lawrence. ‘I suppose you think you’ve got it all sewn up too. Mummy’s little boy who gets away with everything. I can see why you’re happy with the arrangement.’
‘Happy?’ Kit’s voice was scathing. ‘Why would I be happy? What could I possibly want with a shop that sells nothing but greed and materialism?’
Daisy stared at him; she had never heard him speak that way before.
‘Yes, but holier than thou ideals or not, you still need a job, don’t you,’ replied Lawrence, sneering.
Kit glared at his brother. That scored home, thought Daisy.
‘Leave her alone, Lawrence, that’s all I’m saying. Daisy said she didn’t know what Mum was planning, and I believe her. Just back off.’
Lawrence looked at Bertie, who just shrugged, casting his eyes downward. Lawrence was on his own. He squared his shoulders. ‘Well, I’m sorry, but I don’t believe you, Daisy. You’ve always had Mother’s ear, she must have told you something. And why pick you as the person we have to make the gift for, why not choose herself? No, there’s something in it for you, there has to be.’
‘Shall I tell you what’s in it for me?’ she said, her anger flaring. ‘The only thing that I stand to gain is the joy of working for one of you. Forgive me if I’m not turning cartwheels.’ Then she turned on her heel and stalked back out to the sales floor.
There was silence for a few moments and Daisy retrieved the glass polish and cloth from under the counter. As she suspected, no one had bothered to clean the glass yesterday evening. She gave the counter nearest to her a good squirt and began to rub at the greasy marks, continuing long after the glass was clean.
After a few minutes’ determined polishing she realised that a figure had come to quietly stand beside her, and she wasn’t altogether surprised to find that it was Kit.
