Chapter 28
28
The Net Loft, St Aidan
Snowdrops and daffodils
Wednesday
I may have momentarily got past running for the hills, but the more I look around the Net Loft, the less hope I have of making the place feel like a shop. Even with the cash injection from the bun sales I made, if I did find something I’d like to sell here, I’d only be able to buy a teensy amount of stock.
I only turn around again when I hear the door open and find Zofia shouldering her way in, carrying a wide wooden crate filled with herbs.
I jump into action. ‘Plants! They’re wonderful, thank you, Zofia! Put them wherever you think.’
Zofia coughs. ‘Anywhere except near your postcards, which look amazing!’ She puts down the box on the next table and picks up a card. ‘ Today is Tuesday all day. This is mine, for my days when I’m especially forgetful.’
I lean over to see the plants. ‘Let me put these out, and I’ll get more of a feel for how it’s all going to look in here.’
Zofia heads for the door again. ‘Just off for another load.’ A few minutes later she’s back again, pausing to let me see what she’s brought in.
‘Violas! These can have a table to themselves.’ My heart melts as I’m looking at the mass of vibrantly coloured, small flowers. ‘These were my mum’s favourite.’
Zofia turns to Miles who’s sauntering out from the shade of the gallery. ‘Betty Beth isn’t lucky like you, she hasn’t had her mum for some years now.’
His face tenses. ‘I remember that from the wedding. I’m sorry.’
I move on to the other side of the crate. ‘She’d have especially loved these orange and purple ones.’ Then I find another section of smaller pots. ‘You’ve brought succulents too, Zofia! These are so small and sweet they’ll be best on the shelves.’
Zofia is back by the cards again. ‘My hands are clean, so I’ll start filling the card rack for you while you do the plants.’
I take the mints, bays and thymes and space them out in a line along the table in the window. I’m just coming to the last one when I spot Clemmie hurrying past the pile of lobster pots waving at me from behind her double pushchair, so I open the door again and she squeezes her way in. She drops a kiss on my cheek and pushes a bag into my hands. ‘A little housewarming present for you; it’s a scented candle from the barnyard.’ She pulls a second bag out from behind her back. ‘And some Little Cornish Kitchen flapjack specials.’
Miles chimes in. ‘The kitchen here is great, but it’s definitely a retail outlet not a house.’
Clemmie looks at me very hard.
I beam at Miles. ‘If you could possibly go and grab some cans for everyone, I’ll bring Clemmie up to speed on our latest ideas.’ I wait until his bum slides out of view, then lower my voice. ‘Due to unforeseen circumstances, this studio will now be opening as a venue selling postcards, plants and anything else I come across, and Miles and I will still be sharing Boathouse Cottage.’
Clemmie puts an arm around my shoulder. ‘That’s a pity, but it’s a great chance for you to try something new.’ Her smile widens. ‘Better still, it’s a fabulous excuse for a launch party!’
My insides shrivel. ‘Absolutely not. I’ve got so little here, I’ll open as quietly as I can.’
As Miles comes back from the kitchen Clemmie jumps in. ‘Whatever you’re carrying there, they look seriously cool.’
Miles stares at his load. ‘I think they’re sparkling waters.’
I leap in to explain. ‘They’re Scarlett’s, so they’re fashion forward, organic and sustainably sourced. Let’s see how they taste.’
I help myself from the tray, pop the can, and take a swig. ‘This is mango! And it’s delish.’
Clemmie sips at her raspberry one. ‘No one in town is selling anything quite like this, but I’d buy it if they were!’
I glance at the ones that are left. ‘The designs are so pretty I may have to put the rest on the shelf to sell rather than drinking them myself.’
Miles holds his can up. ‘I imagine these are the kind of things your readers would go for, Betty B.’
That makes me smile, because it’s not often we agree on anything. ‘Maybe I should focus on the magazine readers when I choose what to sell in here.’ I’m thinking out loud. ‘I can’t compete with any of the fabulous shops in St Aidan, so it makes sense to sell things you can’t buy elsewhere.’
The more I run with the idea, the more appealing it is. ‘If the shop had the same uncluttered feel as the magazine, I wouldn’t need to fill it.’ I can feel my excitement rising. ‘Small and simple, ordinary but beautiful. That’s how I need to make it here. I might just be able to do this after all.’
Miles has been listening intently. ‘So where are you going to source items that are completely individual?’
Clemmie looks at me. ‘If you’re looking for small numbers of lovely bits and pieces, the makers at the barnyard should be able to come through for you. I’m sure Plum will help out by asking them.’ She’s grinning at me. ‘I could get Edie to open up the barnyard for you later, then Plum and I could come up with you while the babies have their afternoon nap if you’d like to take a look.’
Miles is looking at me intently. ‘I have Zoom meetings later, but if you need me to help, I could always move them?’
I’m fingering my what the actual eff? card. ‘You carry on with your meetings, Miles. You can definitely help later by picking up orders.’
Zofia grasps my hand. ‘Your mum would be very proud of you for doing this.’
My heart swells in my chest, then I swallow the lump in my throat and smile. ‘She’d be flabbergasted more like! Scarlett’s the dynamic one. Nothing I’ve done before ever suggested I’d do anything this out there!’
I’m painfully aware, if it hadn’t been for a monumental mess up, I’d never have grabbed the studio, let alone thought of selling things.
Zofia nods. ‘Like it says on your cards: Time to astonish yourself! ’
Clemmie picks up another. ‘What I want to know is whose is the “rear of the year” on the Nice Bum card?’ She gives me another wink. ‘We could run an opening week competition on the St Aidan Village Facebook page, asking for nominations. That’ll raise your profile and get customers flocking to your shop.’
Miles laughs. ‘The level of interest that card’s generated already, you’d better get more printed.’
And just like that, there’s no going back.