Chapter 9
NINE
I’d never seen the shop so full. My guests weaved through my display tables like shoals of fish, and through the afternoon, as some people drifted away with their purchases, they were replaced by others. There even seemed to be passers-by noticing the festive atmosphere from through the window and coming in to see what was going on. I made a point of greeting every last one of them.
I’d spent the previous day decking the shop out with Christmas decorations – fairy lights, inflatable candy canes, and glittery streamers hanging from the ceiling. There had never been a sharper contrast between mine and Penn’s sides of the shop. That afternoon, compared to the riot of colour on my half, his looked like a sepia photograph. He sat there behind his desk, somewhat like Miss Havisham from Great Expectations , haunting the room with his dour presence.
‘Have another glass of wine,’ said my mam, trying to press one into my hand. She’d already embraced the party atmosphere and was on to her third.
‘No, Mam! I’m working. I’ll have another one later, once it’s all done.’
‘It’s packed!’ she said. ‘I can’t believe it.’
Neither could I. I’d hoped that I could get a handful of people in and flog them a few spiralizers and hand creams, but the event had surpassed even my wildest expectations. Mam was circling with bowls of crisps and nuts, and Sven and Arthur had alternated shifts pouring glasses of wine and handing them around while the other minded the bookshop.
I’d repaid them both by recommending their shop to everyone I sold to, as well as doing my fellow tenants the same favour. It couldn’t hurt to spread the goodwill, and I’d even reluctantly nodded towards Penn. Despite how I felt about him and how much I’d wanted to finally outstrip his sales, I’d felt a twinge of guilt seeing the desolation of his half of the shop. Saying that, I was sure that he’d made sales that day off the back of my party, so I felt confident I’d kept a karmic balance. After all, I was capable of rising above our differences even if he wasn’t.
‘Thank you for this,’ said Arthur, clasping my hands in his in between topping up Prosecco flutes. ‘We haven’t had as busy a Saturday as this in months!’
‘Great!’ I said and was then collared by someone wanting to buy an armful of essential oils.
‘I had no idea this place was here,’ she said. She was a woman of about fifty with blue hair and a nose ring. ‘I’ll definitely be back!’
‘Amazing, thank you,’ I said, offering my phone for her to dab her card. I heard a mental kerching go off in my brain. ‘And don’t forget to pop up the hallway to Sacred Aura – I think you’d like her stuff too.’
She nodded and hurried out of the door, and I was pleased to see her turn left up the passage rather than right out into the street. As I watched her go, I noticed Jake leave the building. He gave me a brief wave through the shop window then thrust his hands into his jacket pockets and walked down the road. He’d been quiet with me since I’d awkwardly declined his offer of a date, which was understandable, but I hoped things might thaw between us eventually.
Christa came in and rushed up to me, squealing.
‘This is incredible!’ she said, hugging me tightly. ‘And thank you for sending some people my way – you’re a doll.’
‘That’s okay. Share the wealth, as they say.’
‘And how’s mardy bum taking it?’ She nodded towards Penn, who was showing a band poster to a man in a donkey jacket and a flat cap.
‘Silently and as supercilious as ever. I never can tell, since he has a face like he’s sucking a lemon most of the time anyway.’
Christa cocked her head to one side, regarding him. ‘It’s a shame he’s so bloody handsome. What a terrible waste.’
‘Agreed. He’s the human equivalent of a bad avocado. Looks lovely from the outside but has a disappointingly grim interior.’
‘Ha. That’s exactly it. Ooh, I didn’t know you had these!’ She ran her hand over the essential oils and Himalayan salt lamps. ‘These are really popular in my shop too.’
‘Oh, right. They’ve been selling well, so that makes sense.’ I bit my lip. ‘I hope I’m not treading too much on your turf.’
‘Don’t be silly,’ she said, giving me a squeeze. ‘It’s fine, honestly.’
‘I had no idea what was in the boxes, so every one is a bit of a surprise. I’m not doing it intentionally, I promise!’
‘I know you aren’t, and like I said, you’ve sent enough customers my way today, I won’t hold it against you. Christmas has come early to Sacred Aura.’ She winked and looked around the store. ‘This is something else, Annie. Well done.’
I grinned at her.
‘I had another reason to come and see you. What are you doing on Monday?’
‘Um, nothing.’ On Sundays and Mondays, the arcade was closed, and in my free time, I’d been mostly engaged in watching Netflix and cleaning Neo’s dirty dishes in our grotty kitchen.
‘Do you want to come to Northumberland with me? I’m going to a rally with some friends – we’re protesting against pheasant shooting. You said you were into that kind of stuff, so…?’
‘Yeah! I’ve never been to a protest before, but I’d love to come.’ I’d trade cleaning Neo’s plates of dried microwave lasagne juice quite happily. Plus, sticking it to people killing birds for fun would be right up my street.
‘Great! I’ll pick you up at seven a.m.’
I shuddered but decided the early start would be worth it.
‘We’ll make an animal rights warrior of you yet. And then we’ll start work on your carbon footprint.’ She patted a pile of plastic boxes and gave me a mock-stern look and a wave as she left.
I spent the next hour circling the room, meeting new customers and trying to steer them to any products that they might be interested in, as well as throwing in some curveballs in case I got lucky. I managed to persuade a young mum to buy some children’s books alongside her cheese grater, but crashed and burned with an attempt to get an elderly man to supplement his soup canister purchase with a selection of herbal teabags. You couldn’t win them all.
What I was winning at was the accrual of wads of cash. I stared in disbelief at my bulging cash tin and at the building figure on my card payment app. I’d smashed all of my goals. Buoyed up beyond measure, I noticed that another of my tables had started to grow empty, so I heaved another box out of the store room.
I ripped it open and looked inside… and started laughing. Oh my God . Inside were a selection of novelty musical items. A pizza cutter with a wheel that looked like a vinyl record, some guitar ice-lolly moulds, and sets of spoons with treble clefs on the end. This was just perfect. I looked over at Penn, who was apologising loudly to one of his customers about the Adele-heavy soundtrack to my event, and began to relish my impending revenge.
I merrily stacked up everything out of the box and retired to the chair behind my cash desk to field more sales. My mam continued to hobnob, and I was glad she was there – I was starting to get exhausted with the busyness of the day, but despite her condition, she seemed to be thriving off it. It was only a shame that Dad hadn’t wanted to come.
He’d cried off at the last minute, saying that his leg was hurting, and of course that was likely to be true, but I couldn’t help wondering if Penn had something to do with it. I’d tentatively asked Dad again what had happened, but he’d brushed it off and changed the subject. I leaned my elbows on the desk, feeling a slight dip in my mood, and this invited in thoughts of the social media comments I’d read earlier that week.
There had been more. Seems like a bargain basement but more expensive . Tin opener broke after one use – I won’t be back . I’d replied to this one offering a refund or replacement and had no response. But my mind always went back to that one particular comment. It wouldn’t be so bad if it wasn’t for the owner. It still stung, and I wondered what on earth I could have done to have earned it.
I remembered being too pushy on my first day. Was that it? If so, I couldn’t imagine someone would be bothered enough to take to social media about it. Then I considered that it might be more personal than that. My stomach twisted when I thought about how distant Jake had been since I’d turned him down. Surely he wouldn’t do this though… It seemed so extreme. I shook my head. Of course he wouldn’t; I was being ridiculous.
More customers came up to make their purchases, which took my mind off things. Gratifyingly, the novelty music items were selling really well, and I dared a look over at Penn to see how he was taking it. He was deep in conversation with one of his own customers and annoyingly hadn’t seemed to notice. But when the customer left, he glanced over. I was just bagging up one of the vinyl-themed pizza cutters, so I waved it at him with a triumphant smirk. He narrowed his eyes at it, then they widened in surprise. He jumped off his stool and marched over.
‘What the fuck are you playing at?’ he whispered as the customer said thank you and left.
‘Making a ton of cash and encouraging repeat custom. How about you?’
‘How droll. I think you need to explain yourself, don’t you?’ He gestured at the table, which was now only half full of musical products, since they’d been selling so well.
‘I can’t help it if my rock and roll merchandise is selling better than yours,’ I said with a sassy little head wiggle. I had to admit, I was enjoying this more than I’d envisioned.
‘Well, that’s the problem, isn’t it?’ he said, crossing his arms over his slim chest. ‘It is my merchandise.’
‘Whatever,’ I said, flicking my hand towards him dismissively. ‘You don’t have the monopoly on all music-related paraphernalia. Although I’m sure you think you do.’
He ran a hand over his face. ‘You don’t seem to get it. They’re mine. As in, they literally belong to me. You’ve taken one of my boxes from the stock cupboard.’
I blinked at him, my jubilant mood faltering. ‘No. I don’t think so. It was on my side of the shop.’
He sighed. ‘I admit, it might have ended up there while I was sorting stuff out. But it is mine. I mean, what possessed you to think it was meant for your shop?’
‘I… I…’ My stomach had tied itself in a knot that Bear Grylls would have been proud of. ‘They’re novelty products. I sell novelty products.’ I pointed at a row of ketchup bottles in the shape of tomatoes.
‘And the music theme didn’t give you a clue?’
I paused. ‘Hang on a minute… Were you actually going to sell this stuff in your shop?’ A laugh escaped me. ‘Music buff Penn, with your achingly cool albums and T-shirts. Selling pizza cutters ?’
His nostrils flared, and his eyes glittered ominously. ‘I ordered them by mistake – I must have added them to my cart by accident. I was about to send them back, but clearly that’s not happening now.’
I breathed heavily, realising that I’d run out of options to keep my dignity. My face started to get very hot.
‘Fine,’ I snapped, opening my cash tin. ‘How much do I owe you?’
He quickly tallied what I’d sold and how much for, and I handed over the money, roughly thrusting my hand at him. Mortification was making me more belligerent than I should have been. His eyes met mine, and I was surprised to see them soften; the indignation with which he’d approached me seemed to seep out of him, and he looked almost reluctant to take the cash from my hand. I felt a flicker of hesitation too but kept my chin raised, wanting to salvage some respectability out of the whole situation. Then he gently took the money, his finger grazing mine, a tiny warm touch that reminded me that perhaps he didn’t really have ice running through his veins.
The babble of conversation around us seemed quieter to my ears as we briefly held each other’s gaze, and for a moment, I wished we could just start again. Then he picked up an empty box, went to the table and swept all that was left into it, his jaw twitching.
He started to walk over to his side of the shop, and I felt a new pulse of frustration. Just when I’d felt like I might be able to build a bridge, he’d withdrawn again.
‘Let’s call this justice for upsetting my dad,’ I called after him, knowing how petty I sounded but unable to help myself.
He froze, his back muscles growing taut under his T-shirt. He turned around slowly, his eyes now looking tired. ‘I still have no idea what you’re talking about.’
‘I think you do.’
He stared at me for a moment, his Adam’s apple rippling as he swallowed.
‘That’s another thing we’ll have to agree to disagree on,’ he said and turned his back again.
I sat there, my eyes stinging. I willed myself not to cry – despite my bravado, I hated confrontation. And now the frost between us had turned into an ice age; all hope of a thaw in this millennium was dashed.
Then something occurred to me. I watched him stuffing the box under his desk then sitting down, his face stony and glaring into the middle distance. I’d made a true nemesis today, but what if he’d always been more of an enemy than I’d thought?
It wouldn’t be so bad if it wasn’t for the owner.
What if Penn had been trying to bring me down all this time?