Page 73 of The Little Shop on Silver Linings Street
‘Darling girl,’ she said, and it was so quick, Daisy almost missed it, but there was no mistaking the fondness of the look in Bea’s eye. It made her feel quite emotional.
Releasing her, Bea returned to the table where the food had been laid out, beside which stood a much smaller table covered with the traditional Buchanans’ blue velvet cloth.
‘Now, when it is your turn, would you three boys like to place the gifts you have chosen for Daisy on here and I shall open them. As eldest, Lawrence, perhaps you would like to go first. Oh, I can’t wait to see them!’ She beamed at them all and, despite herself, Daisy felt a frisson of excitement. Bea’s mood was infectious.
Lawrence stepped forward, flashing Daisy a look that was a mixture of many things – triumph mostly, but also a warning. He was expecting to be her boss soon and it was a reminder that he would always have the last word. A pulse began to beat in her neck.
His gift was wrapped in a flat square box which she recognised as the same shape as one of their own. Did that mean it was an item from the shop? It couldn’t be though, surely she would have known if something was missing? It seemed to take Bea an inordinate amount of time to undo the tape holding the paper closed, but eventually she pulled out the box, dropping the paper onto the floor in her haste. Bea hugged it to her for a moment and then, holding it inches from her face, she lifted the lid and peered inside. Her sharp intake of breath was distinctly audible in the silent room. Eyes wide, she lowered the box.
‘Lawrence,’ she said. ‘I don’t know what to say. This is beautiful, truly stunning.’
Daisy wanted to wrench the box from Bea’s hands to have a look and she was acutely aware of Kit’s eyes on her.
With trembling hands, Bea took what appeared to be a photograph from the box and held it up. ‘Lawrence, tell me why you chose this. What’s it all about?’
He strode forward and, taking the picture from his mother, turned it around so that they could all see it. Bea was right, it was incredible.
‘This is obviously an artist’s impression. Although actually it’s rather more than that, as I had my design digitally rendered in 3D so you could appreciate it better. There would have been no time to make an object as delicate or intricate as this given the time frame, but you’ll find my costings in the box underneath the satin. It comes in at exactly five thousand pounds, although to really create it the way I imagined it, the cost would be somewhere closer to fifteen thousand. I think that you can see how that would be worth it.’
The image showed a series of interlocking flower heads, each with six petals. The centre to each flower was formed from a gemstone, as were the individual petals, using two different gems in alternating colours. Each flower was also different from the other. The flower heads themselves were fused together so that they only just touched and the whole lot was suspended from a gold chain attached to the two outermost flowers. The settings alone would have been incredibly difficult to fix and the sheer variety of colours and stones was astonishing. It was, however, probably the least likely piece of jewellery Daisy would ever choose to wear. It was too colourful, far too brash and it drew attention to itself like a Belisha beacon.
‘Good God!’ It was Bertie speaking. ‘Are you sure you mean fifteen thousand? More like thirty.’
‘It’s whatever your budget will allow for,’ replied Lawrence. ‘In my example I’ve used various types of pretty, but fairly ordinary quartz, to keep the cost down a little, not precious stones at all. But I think you’ll agree, it’s the effect that is mesmerising. The design is what’s important, and what makes it so utterly perfect for Daisy.’
Bea was nodding. She looked ecstatic. ‘But what makes it so perfect, Lawrence? Why is Daisy going to love this?’
He looked momentarily taken aback. ‘Well, the flowers are like daisies, aren’t they? And that’s her name… She likes flowers, and all the colours too, bright ones, and I know she likes big bold statement pieces.’
‘I rather thought Daisy preferred more muted colours,’ said Bea, slowly, as if thinking. Daisy looked down at her navy skirt and tried to hide her smirk. Monique had done her job well.
‘No, definitely bright colours. I know that for a fact.’ He lifted his head a little, defying anyone to argue with him.
Bea grinned at Daisy. ‘Exceptional,’ she said. ‘Well done, Lawrence.’
Daisy’s heart plummeted. How could Bea just accept what he said? She knew Daisy better than that, surely? But then she looked at Lawrence’s design again. It was an exquisite piece of work. Not for her, for a million and one reasons, but she had to acknowledge the skill in the design, however misplaced. She didn’t dare even look at Kit.
Bea clasped her hands together in delight. ‘Now then, Bertie. Let’s see what you’ve come up with.’
It was all a pretence. Following Bertie’s shock announcement that he was pulling out of the competition, they had debated long and hard whether or not to tell Lawrence. Bea knew of course, she had to. Not least of all because Bertie didn’t want it to come as a surprise to her on the final day, but also, Daisy suspected, because he wanted his mother’s blessing.
Bertie put one hand into the inner pocket of his jacket and pulled out a long box which gave an audible rattle as he passed it to his mother.
‘Careful,’ he warned. ‘It’s very delicate.’
Bea took the box and eased off the bow. She was grinning broadly. Whether she knew what was in the box or not Daisy didn’t know, but she was doing a good job of keeping the suspense going. The paper came next, inch by inch, until, when she was almost there, she gave a little excited whoop and tore the remaining wrapping away. She held the box to her so that no one else could see and peeped inside.
‘Oh, Bertie!’ She burst out laughing. ‘I love it!’
And then she held up Bertie’s gift; a string of brightly painted pasta tubes strung together. The sort of necklace that every child learned to make at playschool.
Bertie turned to Kit, who gave him a high five.
Lawrence’s face was a mixture of so many things, Daisy almost laughed out loud herself. He looked shocked, hugely relieved, triumphant, but also incredibly irritated.
‘Would someone like to explain to me what’s going on, as you all seem to be in on Bertie’s little charade.’
Bertie put his hand over his heart. ‘Whatever do you mean, Lawrence? Is this not the most perfect gift for Daisy?’
