Chapter 7
Seven
Owing to some sort of miracle, Mira managed to get the house into an acceptable shape just in time for her belongings to be delivered. Barely, but at least she wouldn’t have to put her mattress on the grimiest bedroom floor known to mankind. Still on the floor, but a clean one.
Which was a somewhat frightening realisation, because now that she had the house in order, the next task was waiting for her, and it was by far the more difficult one: Getting the shop back up and running.
She’d taken the ledgers and the recipe book from the drawer in the shop, and now she was sitting in her kitchen – still on her only chair, but at least with hot tea and a proper sandwich on a clean, whole plate – with all of them open, a fresh, empty notebook, and no idea where to begin.
Going through the Financials ledger had been sobering.
Things had started out just fine, the way she’d expected it, from both her memories and Uncle Lochlin’s letter.
But the closer she got to the day he’d closed it, the less confident she felt.
The numbers had declined steadily, culminating in barely breaking even the last year or so before closing.
She wasn’t sure why – had he sold off his stock at a discount just to get rid of it?
Maybe, but it wasn’t like she could ask him.
Just as likely, the business had taken a nosedive, just like the town itself.
How was she supposed to work with that?
Mira stared at the recipe book, open on the page with the contents. Well, at least someone had already expressed interest in whatever Uncle Lochlin had been selling – and what they were hoping she would sell, too. That was a start, wasn’t it?
She searched until she found ‘plant growth (flowers)’.
Not a terribly long list, and largely overlapping with the ones for fruit and vegetables.
That might be a sensible place to start.
Emberglen largely lived off of farming – Golden River intrusions notwithstanding – so it stood to reason that people needed fertiliser.
According to the ledger, it was something of a classic, selling in rather large quantities almost year-round.
If she could at least figure out how to make that, she might have a solid basis to work off of.
“Right.” She grabbed her pen, flipped to an empty page in her notebook, and labelled it ‘business plan’. Underneath, in smaller letters, she wrote ‘plant juice’. “What do I need…?”
With the list assembled, Mira stopped to think. Right, now she had the what, but still needed the who of ‘who was going to sell this to her’. She didn’t exactly have a neat collection of business cards to refer to. Did people here even do business cards?
She dragged the Inventory ledger over. Maybe this would hold the answer.
A few minutes of searching later, and Mira sent a silent thank you to wherever Uncle Lochlin might be now.
Not only had he meticulously labelled everything, every ingredient also had a supplier listed.
For almost everything she would need for this first batch, she’d go to one ‘Yoni Damyon’. Who lived…
“Well.” Mira leaned back, looking out the window at the house on the other side. The one with the greenhouse out back. She could have guessed that, probably. “Time to meet the rest of the neighbours.”
The only thing Mira knew about this particular neighbour was that she had a cat, the large, fuzzy thing who came out of the house every morning and patrolled the area.
Occasionally, Mira saw her bushy tail flit through the grass out back, presumably in an attempt to catch the mice that had to be thriving in there.
She had not seen the woman beyond the occasional glimpse when she went out and into town.
Not often, and not usually during this time of the day.
So she straightened her clothes – mustn’t make a bad first impression, after all – grabbed her old shopping basket that had come with the rest of her things, and her list, and ventured out to buy some herbs.
At first, she thought maybe she’d found the wrong house.
There was no obvious sign that this was a shop of any kind.
Unlike Uncle Lochlin’s house, this one didn’t have an extension, either, just a regular front porch spanning the width of the lavender-coloured house, with a nice, wide roof to protect it from the rain.
Only when Mira got closer did she see the wooden sign next to the door: ‘The Blooming Bucket – Herbs, Plants, and Essences’
At least it was the right place, then. The door, however, was locked. Mira hesitated for a moment before she grabbed the knocker – shaped suspiciously like a large, fuzzy cat – and hit the metal plate underneath twice before she took a step back and waited for a response.
It took so long that she almost gave up and left before she heard footsteps inside the house. Someone spoke directly behind the door. When it opened, it wasn’t a human woman who greeted her first, but the cat, who slipped outside and immediately started sniffing Mira’s shoes.
“Oh, shoo!” The human woman followed right after. “That’s a customer, not a friend.”
The cat meowed indignantly as if she’d understood before she pranced off down the front steps, where Mira watched her disappear around the corner of the house.
“Can I help you?”
The clipped tone almost made Mira flinch as she turned back around.
Then once again when she had the chance to study the woman who was holding the door open.
Tall, broad-shouldered, with black hair in a thick braid and rather intense green eyes that studied her, too, down a strong, hawkish nose.
The woman she’d seen that first night. Who had witnessed Mira talking to herself.
Oh.
“Right, sorry.” She smiled sheepishly, despite the little spike of anxiety. It was fine, nothing to worry about. The woman probably didn’t even remember her. “Your cat is. Impressive.”
“Less impressive once you know that she keeps falling off the windowsill because she forgets that she isn’t a kitten anymore,” the woman, presumably Yoni Damyon, muttered. She levelled an expectant gaze at Mira. “So?”
“Ah.” Mira held out her hand. “I’m Mira Gardener. I moved into the potion shop a few days ago.”
It took a few moments, in which Mira’s face grew progressively hotter, before the woman briefly shook her hand. “That’s you?” She dropped her hand to the side. “Welcome, I suppose.”
“Thank you?” Mira cleared her throat. “So, I moved in, and the man who lived there, he ran the shop.” She almost winced the second the words came out of her mouth.
Obviously. “He was my uncle, and he left me the house.” Get to the point, she reminded herself.
Easier said than done with those eyes still staring her down.
“I want to open she shop back up, and I’ll need a few things to get started.
” She pulled the list out of her pocket.
“I wrote everything down, and his notes said that he used to get it all from you?”
“Hm.” Yoni took the list and studied it with furrowed brows. “Yes, I have all of that. The lavender essence still needs a few days, but I can get you the rest right now.”
“Really?” Mira bit her tongue and tried to rein in her enthusiasm. She hadn’t expected it to be so quick. “That’s great! I don’t need the lavender right away, a few days is fine.”
Yoni reached behind the door and put a keyring into her pocket before she stepped outside. “Follow me. The greenhouse is in the back.”
She brushed past Mira, which much to her surprise did not send her tumbling in a heap down the stairs.
The woman certainly looked like she had no problem making boulders move out of her way.
She did have a long stride, too, and a brisk pace, so Mira had to jog a little to follow her along a gravel path around the house and to the backyard.
The greenhouse sat a good twenty yards away from the house, at an angle that made it so visible from the street.
It was surrounded by more garden beds, some raised, some covered in nets.
A scuffed potting bench was pushed up against the greenhouse wall by the door. Yoni stopped next to it for a moment.
“Wait here, I’ll get what you need.”
She held out her hand, and belatedly Mira realised that she meant for her to hand her the basket. She did so, and without another word, Yoni took list and basket into the greenhouse, leaving Mira to wait outside.
It was a little bit awkward, but it gave Mira a chance to look around and admire the garden.
It was large, maybe even larger than her own, with enough space to house five more greenhouses with room to spare.
It was in infinitely better condition than her own garden though, with orderly stone paths and little walls that separated it into sections.
There were more patches full of plants, are large stretch of well-kept lawn dotted with clover and daisies, and bushes along the fences.
A small space was shaded by a pergola covered in grape vines, with a table and three chairs underneath.
It was a cosy, peaceful space, where Mira was sure one could spend hours in and not get sick of it.
She’d like that for herself, some day.
After a minute or two, she peered into the greenhouse.
It was meticulously set up, more so than any other greenhouse Mira had ever seen.
Which admittedly was a rather small number.
The courtyards in Willow Harbour, if a house even had one, did not lend themselves to gardening in any way, shape, or form.
In here, everything was in precisely divided patches, perfectly pruned, lush and healthy.
Nothing at all like the sickly plants put in boxes along the streets near the emporium, a valiant but futile attempt to make the area a little more visually appealing to people with suitably large wallets and a desire to make those wallets a little lighter.
This was a veritable jungle compared to even the nicest parks in the city.
Of course, without the trams, and those newfangled motorcars that were propelled by both oil and firestones, and the occasional cloud of factory smoke, any plant here would thrive.
People, too, Mira mused. She hadn’t paid much attention to it until now, but if she thought about it, she might just find that she slept better here, despite the discomfort of the couch, and breathing felt just a little easier as well.
“Meow.”
The noise from her right drew Mira’s attention. The cat was sitting on the gravel path, tail swishing lightly, and stared at Mira with large yellow eyes.
“Hello.” Mira crouched down to look a little less intimidating. “And who are you?”
The cat meowed again. Mira held out a hand so the cat could sniff it. “I’m Mira. Nice to meet you.”
The cat continued to stare at her for a few moments before she leaned forward and delicately sniffed the tips of Mira’s fingers.
Whether or not she was satisfied with the results, Mira couldn’t tell.
At least the cat didn’t hiss before she stood, wove past Mira and jumped up on the potting bench.
When Mira got back to her feet, the cat bumped her head into Mira’s elbow.
Well, politely speaking; it seemed more like a tiny battering ram to Mira.
“Ow. Yes, all right.”
She began scratching the cat behind the ears, and the animal promptly began to purr roughly at the volume of a carriage rattling along cobblestone.
After a few moments, the cat flopped over, purring ever louder when Mira – somewhat reluctantly – moved on to its chest and belly.
She didn’t have much experience with cats; in Willow Harbour, pets were things for rich people, or those living on the outskirts with space for them to roam.
She had been neither, and thus had contended herself with occasionally petting the small number of cats that lived around the park near her flat.
None of them had been very happy when she’d accidentally touched their fuzzy undersides.
This one seemed not to mind. All four paws in the air, the cat enjoyed the belly rub until heavy footsteps approached from inside the greenhouse.
“I see you’ve introduced yourself to Marigold.
” Yoni emerged with a pair of garden shears and Mira’s basket filled to the brim.
“She’s always very happy to make friends.
” She gently rolled the cat over, who complained indignantly but refused to move away, and put down the basket.
“That’s everything fresh. I’ll get you the dried stuff from inside. ”
She left back around to the front of the house without another word. Mira discreetly looked after her until she disappeared around the house. Ouch. If she’d been hoping for a friendlier neighbourhood than she’d had in Willow Harbour, she would be sorely disappointed, it seemed.
“At least you’re a proper sweetheart, aren’t you,” she cooed. Marigold the cat chirped and started purring again when Mira went back to petting her.
It didn’t take long for Yoni to return with a handful of jars and add them to the basket.
The amount she charged made Mira wince and recalculate the rest of her budget, but without any other options that she knew of, she didn’t have much of a choice.
With a polite goodbye that was met with something too close to a scowl – and one last pat on the head for Marigold – Mira took her now substantially heavier basket and left, feeling just a little bit defeated.
With so few people living on her street, it would have been nice to make friends with them.
To feel a little more like a community than she had back in the city. Maybe that had been overly optimistic.
Well, at least the cat had been friendly enough.