Page 13 of The Little Shop on Silver Linings Street
Amos smiled. ‘Maybe not, but Grace has this thing about her, a way of being that fills the space a long time after she’s left it. I’m not sure how else to describe it.’
Daisy leaned forward. ‘Ethereal,’ she murmured, thinking how wonderful it must be to have someone describe you in that way. ‘What a fabulous word…’ She trailed off, thinking. ‘So, the jewellery should be a reflection of who Grace is, but more than that it should also reflect something back to her, something that’s important to her, that makes her feel whole. Does that make sense?’
Amos just smiled.
‘So, what would do that?’
‘Oh, heavens, so many things… her bees, her garden, me hopefully…’ He grinned. ‘You’ll have to get to know her a bit better.’ He looked down at the wreath she was making. ‘And there’s just not enough time to do that today.’ He beckoned Flora over.
‘Are you nearly done?’ Flora asked, still grinning with excitement. ‘It’s just Grace will be back in a moment. I only asked her to fetch some things from the house.’
Amos nodded. ‘But I need to concoct a little plan so that Daisy can get to know Grace better. And what simpler way to hide a secret than in plain sight…’ He narrowed his eyes at Daisy. ‘How about we tell Grace that Flora’s husband, Ned, has commissioned you to make something for her? And so you need to speak to Grace in secret to find out what Flora might like. But all the while you’re really observing Grace.’
Daisy looked between Amos and Flora, both of them caught up in the illicit thrill of the surprise they were plotting for Grace. Which was all very well except that it relied on her being able to make a piece of jewellery in the first place, and she really wasn’t sure that she could. Her face fell as the enormity of what this might involve raced through her mind. It was one thing to tinker with a few bits of clay, and another entirely to design an individual piece of jewellery to which enormous importance was attached. What on earth had she been thinking? She wasn’t a jeweller. She worked in a jeweller’s shop and that wasn’t the same thing at all. Plenty of people had an eye for what looked good and what didn’t, there was nothing special about her.
She suddenly realised that Amos was looking at her, a concerned expression on his face. ‘Oh God, I’ve terrified you, haven’t I?’
Daisy gave a weak smile, but it was hard to know what to say. Flora and he both seemed so excited and she didn’t want to let them down.
Flora touched her arm. ‘Is this the first commission you’ll have undertaken?’
Daisy managed a nod.
‘Then would it help you to know that this time last year, right about where you’re sitting, this place was full of cows. I’d only just met my husband and wasn’t even living here, and my florist’s shop in Birmingham had just had to close. I never dreamed that so much would happen in the space of less than a year, but I had a hope that they might, and that was enough. Sometimes all it takes is one small step.’
‘And people who are prepared to take that one small step with you,’ added Amos. ‘Listen, I have no idea what I want for Grace, not really, but I’ll know it when I see it. And I’ve seen enough today to know that you have it in you to find what I’m looking for. So how about we undertake that journey together? We can both learn as we go along. No pressure, no expectation, but a dollop of hope and a trust in the power of possibility. How about that?’
A slow smile crept over Daisy’s face. Put like that it didn’t sound scary at all. ‘I think I can manage that,’ she said.
Amos got to his feet. ‘I’m going to make myself scarce, but can you let me have your number so I can get in touch about what we do next?’
Daisy rummaged in her bag, pulling out a card and handing it over somewhat shyly. ‘I had these made a while back in a fit of enthusiasm. In fact, I think you might be the first person I’ve ever given one to. But my number’s on there.’
Amos studied the card and then held out his hand. ‘I’m very glad to have met you, Daisy Turner.’
She shook his hand, staring at him open-mouthed as he turned and walked back down the length of the room.
Flora laughed. ‘I know,’ she said. ‘He gets you like that, doesn’t he? There’s something rather magical about Amos that you can never quite put your finger on. He turned up here one day at the start of summer looking for work, and sort of stayed. Of course, it helped that he and Grace fell in love, but I feel like I’ve known him my whole life too. One thing’s for sure though, whenever he’s around things start happening, so you better prepare yourself for an adventure, Daisy.’
She paused, checking her watch. ‘I can’t believe the time has gone by so fast. I’m going to whip around everyone else now and check they’re okay, but will you carry on with what you’re doing? I really want to see how your wreath turns out, so I’m afraid you’re going to have to bring it back to show me once you’ve fired the clay. I can’t wait to see the finished article.’
Daisy blushed slightly, but nodded, picking up the clay. She could see just how she needed to continue with the wreath now, and what it might look like once she had transformed the dull grey clay into sparkling pieces of silver.
An hour and a half later she walked back to the car, carrying not only a beautiful natural decoration, but also something inside of her that simply hadn’t been there before.
5
Saturday 7th December
Eighteen shopping days until Christmas
Daisy took her time walking to work the next morning. Part of her didn’t want to be there at all. She’d had such a lovely day yesterday, returning home to sit beside her warm fire and dream about all the lovely things she could make. In the quiet room, with just her little Christmas tree for company, it was easy to imagine that everything was exactly as it should be. But more than that, she had found a little hope and didn’t want to let it go. The wonderful thing about hope, however, was that anything seemed possible after it had worked its magic, and this morning she had reminded herself of Flora’s story and resolved to have a little more faith in herself.
Daisy always arrived extra early after a day off. The end-of-day routines were never done quite the way she liked them when she wasn’t there, so consequently it took a little extra time to get everything shipshape for the day ahead. She would take her time, in between sipping a cup of tea, and when eight thirty came around and it was time for Bea or Kit to arrive, soothing order would be restored.
Her fingers tightened automatically over the big bunch of keys that she held in her pocket as she readied them for use. Today though, as she neared the front door and was about to pull them from her pocket, she could hear raised voices coming from within, and she stopped dead. It was only just gone half past seven and no one ever got there that early. She stood back, surveying the door and windows, but everything looked as it should. Had they been broken into? She could see no signs that the door had been forced and, leaning closer once more, her ear to the door, she realised with horror that the voice she could hear belonged to Lawrence. What on earth was he doing here?
She tentatively pushed the door open and took a step inside. The main shop floor was still lit only by the small interior lights on the display cases, but standing in the middle of it, their tall figures casting huge shadows against the walls, stood the three brothers, forming an almost impenetrable wall in front of her.
