Page 34 of The Little Shop on Silver Linings Street
Daisy could feel herself flushing. She had almost forgotten that she would be eating with them. ‘A cup of tea would be lovely, thank you. But I hope you haven’t gone to too much trouble,’ she said, praying that Grace would say no she hadn’t, and was cheese on toast all right? She really hoped it wouldn’t be something complicated or swimming in a sauce, she wasn’t at all sure she could cope with that.
‘I love cooking,’ replied Grace. ‘So it’s not too much trouble at all, but do you know I often think that just simple things are best, provided they’re cooked well. So I’ve gone with soup, plus some wedges of fresh bread. I hope that’s okay. I thought it might be just the thing for a cold night.’
Daisy slowly released the breath she was holding. She hardly dare hope…
Grace grinned. ‘Please tell me you like tomato soup, otherwise it might well have to be beans on toast.’
Daisy couldn’t quite believe her luck. ‘My favourite actually,’ she replied, finally beginning to relax.
‘Perfect,’ said Amos. ‘Now, come and get settled by the fire.’ He waited until Grace had walked away before giving her a surreptitious wink. ‘And we can have a covert chat while Grace is in the kitchen,’ he whispered.
Amos led the way into another beautifully elegant space, a large and airy room, but warm and cosy too, with rich coloured throws on the chairs and several thick rugs laid over a polished wood floor. One corner of the room was dominated by a Christmas tree which sparkled with silver stars, its only other adornment huge creamy poinsettia heads. Daisy went forward for a closer look. Surely they couldn’t be real? She smiled as she touched one. They weren’t real – although she wouldn’t have put it past Grace to make that magic happen – but, even so, the effect was stunning. She turned back to look at Amos’s expectant face.
‘So what have you told, Grace?’ she asked, keeping her voice low. ‘I don’t want to put my foot in it.’
Amos kept one eye on the door. ‘Very little. Only that Ned had remarked on what you were making on the course when he passed through the shed at some point and mentioned to me afterwards that he was looking for something unique as a Christmas gift for Flora. It was me that suggested you could make something and naturally I offered Grace as the person who could help you to design something that Flora would really love.’ He rolled his eyes. ‘Given that us men are all hopeless when it comes to choosing presents…’
Daisy smiled. ‘You’d be surprised how many are, actually,’ she replied. ‘They all stagger into the shop on Christmas Eve totally panic-stricken. Not you though, obviously.’
‘Although I haven’t given you much time, have I? Christmas is only two weeks away.’
Daisy thought of the other commission that she hoped to gain. It wasn’t ideal timing at all. ‘It will be fine,’ she said. ‘Don’t worry.’ The words left her lips before she even thought about them, but it was such an odd thing for her to say. She wasn’t used to reassuring anyone; it was usually her in need. ‘Hopefully this evening will give me plenty of ideas and I’ll be inspired.’ She looked around her. ‘Even just being here helps actually.’
There was a rattle of crockery from the hallway and she exchanged a look with Amos. He put a finger to his lips, grinning.
Moments later Grace appeared, carrying a tray laden with mugs and a plate of mince pies.
‘We’ll probably all be heartily sick of these come Christmas, so I won’t be offended if you don’t take one,’ said Grace, putting down the tray onto a coffee table. ‘Even though they are homemade and I’ve been slaving over a hot stove all afternoon.’ She broke into a broad smile. ‘Just teasing, although if you do want one, be quick or Amos will beat you to it.’
Amos patted his stomach, which was as flat as a pancake. ‘I have a dreadfully sweet tooth, I’m afraid. I’ll be the size of a house soon.’
Daisy sat down on the nearest chair. She hadn’t the heart to tell Grace that she couldn’t cope with the gloopy mess of mincemeat inside the pie. The pastry was lovely, but the rest…
‘Just the tea will be lovely, thank you. I’m really looking forward to my soup, I don’t want to spoil it.’
‘Well, I can’t wait to see what’s in that bag, Daisy,’ said Grace, handing her a mug. ‘I didn’t get much of a chance to look at what you were making the other day but, from what I’ve heard, it sounds like just the sort of thing that Flora will love. Have you been making jewellery long? I guess working in a place like Buchanans must be heaven for you. Is that where you trained?’
Daisy darted a nervous look at Amos. ‘Erm… no, they don’t really know about it. In fact, they don’t know about it at all. It’s a secret...’
11
Tuesday 10th December
Fifteen shopping days until Christmas
Amos shifted in his seat. ‘A secret?’ His voice was tinged with anxiety.
Daisy was caught. Amos would surely realise that he had let the cat out of the bag the other day in the shop and, although she didn’t wish to make him feel bad, she couldn’t possibly say anything to reassure him. Grace mustn’t even know he had ever been in the shop.
Grace shot Amos a look. ‘Why is it a secret?’
‘It’s a bit awkward really,’ Daisy replied. ‘Buchanans isn’t the kind of shop that would sell the things I’d make. The things they sell are…’
‘Well out of my league,’ said Grace, picking up her own drink. She smiled. ‘And fortunately, not my cup of tea. I hope you don’t mind me saying but I find that style of jewellery rather cold and clinical – I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything in their window that could beat the beauty of a flower or the dewdrops on the grass of a morning, and I can get those for free. Sorry,’ she added, looking a little sheepish.
‘No, don’t apologise,’ said Daisy. ‘They’re really not my thing either. I can appreciate the quality of the workmanship, and the stones do have a beauty, in their own way, but… it often seems to me that people buy things simply because of their expense, as if that says almost as much as the piece of jewellery itself, if not more.’
She took a sip of her tea. It was strong, just how she liked it. ‘I’ve worked at Buchanans for eight years and the one thing I do love is hearing people’s stories, and there always is a story. People tell me all these very personal things, and yet the jewellery itself seems so impersonal. I’ve never been able to figure that out about what we sell; surely the very least it should be is personal?’
