Page 35 of The Little Shop on Silver Linings Street
Amos was studying her, frowning a little. ‘So wouldn’t whatyoucould offer provide their customers with a very real choice? Your boss might be very keen to see what you design.’
Daisy laughed. ‘Trust me, she wouldn’t. Bea wears diamonds like other people wear a coat if it’s cold. And it has to be of the very highest quality, that’s always been her watchword as far as Buchanans goes.’
‘And quality equals expense, does it?’ queried Amos.
‘In her world, yes, I’m afraid it does.’
Grace nodded. ‘And this is why you’ve never opened up about your own skills, is that right? Because you think people will laugh at the things you make?’
‘I know they would,’ said Daisy. She could almost hear Lawrence’s sneering voice now. ‘They’ll think what I do worthless.’
There was silence for a moment and then Grace cleared her throat, exchanging a look with Amos that she couldn’t quite fathom. ‘When I first met you, Daisy, you mentioned that you’d been to see Hope Blooms not long after it first opened. But I’m not sure if you were aware that just a few short months before that the place was full of cattle.’
Daisy nodded. ‘Yes,’ she replied. ‘Flora mentioned it on Friday.’
‘Well then it might also interest you to learn that around the same time I was going through some considerable changes of my own. My marriage had fallen apart and I was facing the very real possibility of losing this place.’ She looked around her at the beautiful room. ‘And that was a huge problem for me because during the thirty-odd years of my marriage I’d lost so much self-esteem, and thought myself so worthless, that I had become practically a recluse. My house was all I cared about. In fact, I didn’t think I could exist outside of it, but, mainly due to this wonderful man here, I found out that what I had thought was my shield and protector was actually my prison cell…’
Daisy swallowed. Grace had just described her almost to the letter.
‘… And I’m wondering if perhaps the same is true for you. Buchanans offers you safety, but it might also be holding you back.’ She sat back, smiling. ‘I think you should show us what you’ve made now because, if I’m not much mistaken, there is something inside of you that’s desperate to make itself known, and talent like that shouldn’t ever be hidden away.’
Daisy didn’t know what to say. They were such lovely words and she never imagined she would ever hear anyone say those things about her. She dipped her head in acknowledgement and grinned, taking another sip of her tea to fortify herself. Then she bent down to the bag at her feet and lifted her wreath free from its covering. Shyly, she handed it to Grace.
Grace lifted it, holding it a moment at a slight distance before resting it lightly on her lap, her eyes roving over the detail. Her fingertips danced across the foliage, tracing a leaf here and a petal there, and then when she had had her fill, she angled the wreath towards the light, holding it closer so that she could study what lay at its heart.
The seconds ticked by and, as a log shifted on the fire, Daisy realised she was holding her breath. She tried to let it out slowly, remembering to take another as she did so. Eventually, Grace lifted her eyes.
‘I don’t think I have ever seen anything like this before,’ she said, her face lit up with a warm smile. ‘The wreath itself is beautiful, stunning actually – the colours you’ve used, the placement of the pieces and the way you’ve contrasted everything.’ Her fingertip rested lightly on one of the leaves. ‘And these are actually silver?’
Daisy nodded, her own eyes tracing the trails of ivy she had made and woven in among the foliage.
‘They’re wired, so you can take it out and wear it. I’ve designed it as a circlet – there are clasps on the end which are hidden at the moment. The centrepiece can clip onto it as well, so, if you want, you can wear the whole thing as one piece, or wear one as a necklace and the other as a brooch. In my mind, I pictured it as something a bride might wear, you know, for a winter wedding or something. I don’t know though…’
Grace was staring at her. ‘That’s… incredible… I don’t know what to say.’ She looked back down and then up again before switching her gaze to Amos. ‘Did you know they were like this?’ she asked.
He shook his head. ‘Described, but…’ He held out his hand so that Grace could pass the wreath across to him and Daisy realised that this would be the first time he would see what she was capable of.
‘Do you want me to unfasten it, so you can see the whole thing?’
Two heads nodded in unison.
Turning the wreath over, Daisy gently unclipped the centrepiece and handed it to Grace so that she could have a closer look. Made entirely from the silver clay, it had started off life as a silver disc about the size of a fifty-pence piece, but Daisy had added a series of tiny flower heads to it, each made from a number of petals, formed to resemble those of the hydrangea heads. The edges of the disc were softened with leaf shapes, some flat, some with curling edges. It was such a simple design but so exquisitely intricate.
It took only a moment to unwind the ivy trail and Daisy began to gently reshape the central wire so that it formed a circular shape, the leaves turning this way and that along its length. She fastened the clip and held it up for inspection. On Grace’s elegant neck it would look beautiful all by itself but, even as she contemplated how it might look, she realised that she had begun to form an idea of what she could make for Grace. Her eyes widened in excitement at the possibilities that filled her head. She would try and put her ideas to Amos if they had a few minutes alone again during the evening, but she was sure he would agree; she’d only had to listen to Grace’s words to know that she was on the right track.
‘Flora is going to absolutely love this,’ said Grace, shaking her head in wonder. ‘I know you wanted some more information about her so that you could create something unique, but heavens, Daisy, this is perfect.’
Daisy had almost forgotten that that was supposed to be the reason she was there. ‘Do you really think so?’ she asked. ‘I know she loves flowers obviously, but…’
‘No, the ivy is perfect too,’ broke in Amos. ‘Because it symbolises growth, opportunity and determination. Friendship too, actually, and I never met anyone for whom that was a more perfect description.’
‘Oh, yes you’re right!’ said Grace. ‘I’d forgotten that. But Flora will definitely know the associations. I’ve often heard her referencing things like that when she’s chatting to brides about their bouquets.’ She grinned. ‘It’s so romantic, it sways the punters every time.’ She rolled her eyes, and Daisy laughed.
‘Is it really as easy as all that?’ she said. ‘I thought I was going to leave today having written pages of notes about Flora and then spend ages trying to come up with something. But from what you’re saying you think this might actually be it, I can’t quite believe it.’
Amos leaned forward. ‘Ah, but you’re forgetting that when something is meant to be, it’s usually very simple…’
He held her look, his expression easy to read, and she blushed. His faith in her was quite astonishing given the relatively few times they had met, and she had to remind herself that there wasn’t actually an intended recipient of the necklace; this was just a trial run, a prototype to see if her idea actually worked, if anyone other than her thought it was beautiful. And her real job was only just beginning. Except that… She looked across at Grace, who was still holding the necklace in wonder, and she realised that actually she didn’t need any more insight into Grace’s character; if the gift she was going to make were a song, then she already had all the notes.
