Page 9 of Of Potions and Honey
Herfirstproperdayin her new home was nice and sunny, perfect for a dose of optimism and motivation. That was, if Mira could find either.
She’d woken up with a sore back once again, already longing for the comfort of a mattress that wouldn’t arrive for another week; and then she’d have to figure out where to put it. Likewise, the kettle she used to make her morning tea was packed away in a box in the apartment, and whoever had cleared out the house had taken most of everything. There were some plates with little pieces missing from the edges, a set of clay mugs, and a single small frying pan with a scratched bottom. However, her silverware consisted of a single spoon and a knife that was badly in need of a whetstone. She did not currently seem to be in possession of a fork.
So she was drinking cold water from the pump, eating a mangled slice of bread with the sweetest raspberry jam known to mankind, and a pear that had gotten unfortunately squished in her bag – and taken a handkerchief and one of her notebookswith it in the process. Mira chewed a little harder out of spite when she remembered the ruined pages.
Said notebook was open in front of her, smelling faintly of fruit, sitting on the windowsill and waiting for whatever list Mira could put together to at least avoid pointless flailing around with tasks that really didn’t need doing, but she didn’t even know where to start. She’d gotten as far as ‘cleaning’ before she had remembered that she did not even know if there was a bucket in the house, let alone rags and soap. So she’d crossed it out again and written ‘shopping’ instead, though that had opened the can of worms that was her budget, at which point she had given up and simply opted for dragging her one lonely chair to the window and staring out at the street while she finished her water and sandwich.
In Willow Harbour, this time of day was already busy. People were waking up or already on the way to work, papers were being distributed, trams carried crowds back and forth, and delivery carts rumbled past. Nobody in Emberglen didn’t seem to even have an alarm clock. She hadn’t seen anyone so far, even though the sun was beginning to come up over the rooftops. Once, the door to the house opposite had opened, and a cat had come out, a large and fluffy calico with a truly magnificent mane. She’d sauntered down the front steps and out the gate, to make her way up the street where the Honeywood began. Besides the birds causing a racket in the bushes, the cat had been the only sign of life so far.
If no-one even lives here, who’s going to buy my potions?
Charitably, Mira could have described it as a ‘sobering thought’. She would absolutely not admit to anyone that this had not occurred to her before, and now that it had, it sent an ice-cold trickle of panic down her spine. Yes, actually, whowasgoing to buy those potions that she would definitely be able to make?
“Right,” she muttered, if only because she hoped that saying it out loud would make it true. “Uncle Lochlin ran the shop until a few years ago, and he didn’t have any problems. I can figure this out.”
Or so she hoped. Perhaps the ledgers he’d left her would hold some answers. Probably best to go through them sooner rather than later. For now, though, Mira forced herself to return to what she hoped would be a less intimidating task, and that was making the house liveable once more.
“Well then.” She picked up her pen again. “Let’s start simple. I’m definitely going to need a bucket…”
With a list far too long for her comfort, and armed with a bag and her new sensible boots that would hopefully make all the walking a little easier, Mira eventually ventured out to find the town’s general store that she was fairly certain still existed. She couldn’t quite recall seeing it, but she was vaguely aware that it had to be around the town square somewhere. She had no idea how much of what she needed the store would actually carry, but none of it was urgent right now. What she did need right away was food, and some ice for the ice box in the kitchen, so she could actually store said food for more than a few hours. The thing was old, but looked to be in fairly good condition, once she managed to give it a good scrub. That, at least, she wouldn’t need to get fixed. The stove… Well, it did have a compartment for firestones, but she wasn’t sure Uncle Lochlin had ever used one. He’d always made the fire himself, sometimes letting her blow on the kindling to get it to catch better. So firewood was somewhere up on her priority list as well. It was cheaper than firestones, anyway. Which begged the question of how, precisely, she would get all of that back to the house – her house,home, she reminded herself. Hopefully, there was a delivery service out here.
It was a nice day for a walk, but Mira’s mood was slightly dampened by the sight of the deteriorated town. When she’d first arrived, after the reading and to take ownership of the house, she had very briefly expected to step right back into the bustling rural holiday town of her childhood. Reality had swiftly caught up with her, and now, even in bright daylight, Emberglen looked… desolate. No, not quite. But there was certainly a downtrodden atmosphere about the place that Mira found difficult to ignore. Too many empty houses, though less frequently now that she was approaching the central square. A bit too much dirt in the gutters. Not quite enough people out and about for the size of the town.
When Mira reached the core of the town, already starting to miss the tram just a little and trying to remember the way back to the square, she stopped short when saw a glimpse of a familiar yellow between houses, down the main road where it sloped gently downwards towards the farmland.
“Oh, you havegotto be kidding me.”
With a frown and a heavy feeling in her chest, Mira veered off her course to the general store to get a better look. Oh. Oh, no.
Not even fifty yards on down the street sat one of the largest buildings in town. Its display windows were gleaming in the morning light, two large potted plants were flanking the entrance, and a large sign above announced it to be a Golden River store.
Mira stopped, staring at the unwelcome surprise. This was new. There was an emporium in damn near every city now, but she never would have expected to see one in a town as small as Emberglen. She’d been glad for that, too. A fresh start after the unceremonious end of her retail career, far away from any reminders of that miserable time. Yet here it was, with brightyellow letters and the stylised outline of a parrot perched inside the large G. As if the bird was mocking her.
Still, Mira hesitated to turn away from it. If there was one saving grace, it was Golden River’s prices. If they had what she needed, perhaps she could stretch her meagre funds far enough to buy a few little luxuries.
As Mira got close, she noticed it wasn’t an emporium. Underneath the large yellow letters, a much smaller line of writing labelled it an ‘auxiliary store’. Mira narrowed her eyes at the sign. Even worse. Those stores that had popped up all over the outskirts were the reason they’d been short-staffed for months. They’d kept transferring employees without replacing them, in service of a nice and tidy bottom line and wildly overblown profit growth. Savings or not, she didn’t think she could stomach shopping here, at least not right now. She’d rather sleep on the floor for the entire next year.
She did indeed find the general store on the edge of the town square. A large wooden sign proclaimed it to beMore by Moore, and a smaller sign next to the door declared it open. That would have been obvious today. The doors were wide open, framed by a large bucket of cut flowers on one side and a sign on the other that told her there were fresh radishes available today. Mira’s mouth watered. Fresh radishes and cream cheese on a slice of thick rye bread… She could almost taste it, feel the crunch as she bit down. Yes, food would be a priority today. Everything else, she could probably do without.
When Mira entered the store, something chimed. She looked up to find a brass wind chime above the door, presumably enchanted to act like a bell when the door was propped open. None of the customers looked up, but the shopkeeper shot her a glance from behind the counter.
“Morning.”
“Good morning.” After a quick look around, Mira headed for the counter. No point in searching if she could just ask. “Do you have a moment?”
A stout woman twice Mira’s age with threads of grey in her tightly curled black hair, the shopkeeper – Mrs. Moore, perhaps? – exuded an air of weariness even this early in the day. But she nodded, and Mira dug her list out of her pocket.
“I was wondering if you were selling cleaning supplies. Rags, a bucket, some soap and detergent. Maybe a brush? I need some firewood, too, and an ice box stocked.”
She pulled out the list and tried to smooth out the wrinkles. The shopkeeper didn’t reply, and when Mira looked up, she was studying her with mild curiosity.
“Is something wrong?”
The woman shrugged. “I haven’t seen you here before, is all.”
Oh. So she was going to havethatconversation. She’d hoped to put it off at least a little. At least until she’d had the chance to take a bath. “I imagine not. I only just moved here.”
“Moved here?” The shopkeeper ducked her head as her raised voice drew the attention of some of the other people in the store. “Sorry. Really? On purpose?”
