Page 29 of The Little Shop on Silver Linings Street
She smiled. ‘He’s a writer,’ she replied. ‘So yes, he does. A very successful one actually, but he chooses to live a simple life. I admire that.’
‘Yes, but how possible would that be for the majority of people? Folk who have no choice but to work in factories, nine to five, or night shifts? Doctors, nurses, people with mortgages, children… What you’re describing isn’t realistic.’
‘I didn’t say it was a perfect argument,’ she replied. ‘But it comes down to choice, doesn’t it; what kind of life you want to lead? The cost of living is so much less on a boat, so you need to earn less. Maybe too many of us are caught like the proverbial hamster on the treadwheel – we want bigger houses, so we need to earn more. We want better jobs, so when we get them and we earn more, we spend more but then somehow we still need more, and so it goes on… it’s a vicious cycle. And that’s absolutely fine if you’re happy with that, all I’m saying is that some people want different.’
‘And you’re one of those people?’
Daisy nodded. ‘I had my house given to me. I know I’m lucky, but yes, I like things… simple.’
She shivered suddenly and Bertie touched her arm. ‘Come on, let’s keep walking,’ he said. They crossed over the bridge and down onto the towpath, heading away from the town.
‘It’s an interesting subject,’ added Bertie when they had taken a few steps. ‘And I’ll admit not something I’ve ever really thought about. But then, in my defence, inheriting a fat wodge of money from my father when I turned eighteen meant all I learned was how to spend it. I’m not trying to excuse my way of life, but having that kind of money at so young an age was a big responsibility to place on young shoulders. I’m not sure I dealt with it particularly well. Looking back, I could have done all kinds of things with the money, used it for real good, but I guess I wasn’t old enough to even know what that was.’
‘You could now though.’
He paused for a moment. ‘Yes, I guess I could.’ He fell silent, clearly thinking about her words, but then looked back at her with a grin. ‘Now might not be a good time to mention this with all the talk of materialism, but may I remind you that you do work in a shop which sells purely decorative items that cost thousands of pounds.’
‘Yes, but if I had my way, we wouldn’t sell things like that. I can admire certain aspects of them, certainly, but I hate what Buchanans jewellery stands for – that unless you’re wearing something hugely expensive, its worth is somehow devalued. And Christmas is the worst possible time of the year where that’s concerned. You’ve seen folks in the shop, buying jewellery that costs a fortune, sometimes even asking for whatever is the most expensive ring or necklace, as if that will somehow bestow more love, or be a better gift. It isn’t at all, it’s the worst kind of thoughtlessness. And then on the other hand there are people like this man I know who—’
She stopped dead. She had just been about to tell Bertie about Amos, and his quest to find the most perfect present for Grace. ‘Oh well, that doesn’t matter, it’s a long story, but no, most of what we sell is cold and heartless and if I had my way Buchanans would be very different.’
‘Then why work there if you hate it so much?’
Daisy looked at Bertie, weighing something up. ‘No, I can’t tell you, you’ll think I’m stupid.’
‘No, I won’t.’ He elbowed her gently. ‘Come on, tell me.’
‘Well, if you must know it’s because nearly everyone who comes in is buying a gift.’ She sighed. ‘I’m a sucker for a good love story…’ She snorted with laughter at his expression. ‘No, I really am!’
He stared at her, trying to decide if she was having him on or not. ‘There’s a lot more to you than meets the eye, Daisy Turner, did you know that?’
She blushed slightly. ‘Is there?’
They had reached another bridge and Daisy indicated that they should walk up onto it. ‘Let’s get back to the fair,’ she said. ‘I think I could be ready for a spin on a merry-go-round now. After all, you’ve brought me all this way and we’ve ended up walking by the canal, something we could do back home.’
‘True, but it is lovely here,’ replied Bertie. ‘Peaceful.’ He stared back down the length of water. ‘I might even have to take a walk myself sometime. How’s that for a change of tune?’
‘Excellent,’ she replied. ‘I heartily approve.’
* * *
‘You hated every minute of that, didn’t you?’
‘I didn’t hate it,’ retorted Daisy. ‘It’s just not what I’m used to.’ She took his hand as he helped her up from where she was sprawled on a pile of mats at the base of the helter-skelter. It had taken pretty much all of her courage to get up there in the first place, but she had agreed to it in a mad rush of exhilaration after actually enjoying the carousel.
She had wondered whether her anxiety would get the better of her again as they neared the fairground for the second time that day but, although the clamour of noise and smells was momentarily disconcerting, there were none of the awful flashbacks of before. Instead she was able to enjoy the sights and sounds around her of something she hadn’t seen since she was a child.
‘But you don’t want another go?’ asked Bertie mischievously.
‘No, I’ll pass,’ she replied. ‘But there is something else I’d quite like to do…’ It was another memory from her childhood, but from happier times, after…
‘Oh, God, please tell me it’s not the waltzers,’ moaned Bertie. ‘I am definitely too old for those.’
Daisy shuddered, the thought of being whirled around at what felt like one hundred miles an hour not in the least appealing. ‘No, something else. I spotted it when I was up there.’ She pointed high in the air, smiling at the memory of what she had seen. It had looked like a fairy tale.
‘Lead on then.’
She threaded her way through the crowds of people, checking every now and again to make sure that Bertie was still with her. There was something bubbling in her stomach that felt like excitement, but, surely not… Still, what would it be like? she wondered. Would she even remember how? It was such a long time ago.
