Chapter 38
‘There’s a queue outside,’ Milly cried, her eyes shining with excitement on Monday morning. ‘An actual queue!’
Although we’d all acknowledged that it was overkill having seven of us – The Crafty Crew plus Saffy – present for our ten o’clock opening time, it was too special a moment for any of us to miss out on.
Kelly had given Saffy the day off especially but, when Saffy realised we were all going to be here, she’d offered to dip out.
We’d said we wouldn’t allow it after everything she’d done.
The shop would never have looked as good as it did without her and the queue was down to her hard work too.
She’d drummed up an impressive following across various social media accounts, had secured some coverage in the local newspaper and had organised a leaflet drop to all the houses in Willowdale and Pippinthwaite.
‘It’s time,’ Veronica said, turning the key in the lock and opening the door wide. ‘Good morning, everyone! You’re our very first customers. Thank you so much for your support. Come inside!’
A group of maybe ten entered the shop, heading in different directions. Veronica and Laughlin stepped behind the counter while the rest of us spread out to help and answer questions.
A woman who’d been looking at my quilts approached me. ‘You’re going to hate me. I love the quilts but I think the one in the window is my favourite. Would it be possible to see it?’
I gave her a reassuring smile. ‘It’s no problem at all. Just give me a moment to move a few things.’
We’d created an Easter display in the window which included a quilt I’d created from cream, yellow and green fabrics draped across a child’s wooden chair.
Paulette had joked that it was so pretty and eye-catching that it’d probably be one of the first items to sell.
Fortunately, it wasn’t difficult to retrieve and, when I held it out for the woman to see, she confirmed she wanted it.
I had to contain a squeal of excitement that one of my quilts had sold during the first hour.
After the initial rush, there was a steady flow of customers across the morning. Some made big purchases, some small and others were just browsing but everyone we spoke to was complimentary about how perfect Created With Love was for gifts – exactly the feedback we’d hoped for.
As lunchtime approached, we agreed that there was no need for us all to stay for the entire day.
Paulette, Saffy and I went upstairs for some lunch, after which the others headed home.
Saffy had taken various videos that morning and wanted to edit them and share them on social media to keep the hype going so she remained upstairs to work her magic on her phone.
During the afternoon, plenty of people admired my quilts but there weren’t any purchases.
If we sold one a week, I’d be delighted but wasn’t even expecting that.
A pair of patchwork cushions sold and it was interesting seeing which other products were popular.
One customer asked if we could provide thirty panda crocheted keyrings to go in party bags for her panda-obsessed daughter.
A couple of customers asked whether the pyrography signs could be personalised and a quick call to Laughlin confirmed he could easily do that.
Saffy had designed some lovely quotes and pictures which she’d printed off and framed and they’d proved popular.
She’d also created some beautiful pictures using sections of old sheet music from my collection alongside musical notations and imagery the music evoked.
I hadn’t been sure about cutting up my music until she’d shown me what she was planning to do with it and I loved the idea of the aged pages being given a new, different lease of life.
In a quiet moment, I walked a lap of the shop, straightening up a few items and restocking.
We really did carry an impressive range – something for all ages and tastes – and I hoped word would spread and Created With Love would take off.
It would be a shame to close down after the three months we’d initially agreed.
As closing time approached, Milly, Veronica, Laughlin and Christian returned to see how the first day had gone. Sales were way higher than we’d imagined, helped by a couple of pricier purchases including my quilt and cushions.
‘I think this calls for a celebratory drink,’ Christian said. ‘Over the road?’
I noticed Veronica stiffen and Laughlin evidently had too as he suggested The Hardy Herdwick instead.
Presumably Lakeside Inn was a little too raw for Veronica after her disastrous birthday party.
I wasn’t sure whether Veronica had been in touch with either of her daughters since then and I didn’t like to ask.
I really hoped they were speaking and were finding a way to make their peace with each other.
* * *
The first week of trading went really well.
Alice and Xander did stop by as promised and chose a beautiful blue patchwork quilt.
I recognised other customers as guests from Emma and Killian’s engagement party too.
I’d worked the lion’s share of the hours but I didn’t mind because I’d finished my packing and had the time free.
Christian helped me finish the painting in the flat so, when the sale on my house in Mallard Close completed on the Tuesday of week two of trading, it was ready for me to move into.
I took the day off from the shop and thought I’d feel sad leaving the house where Cliff and I had spent so many years together but, as the removals van took my belongings away to a storage facility, I felt more relieved than anything.
A fresh start was absolutely what I needed.
I’d kept only the essentials and a few home comforts for the flat so I spent the rest of the day unpacking and settling in. To my relief, Trevor seemed unfazed by his new surroundings. As long as he had his cage, his mirror and his misting spray, he was perfectly content.
I was back at work the following day. As we were now into the Easter holidays, I’d noticed more people walking round the village but the footfall in the shop hadn’t necessarily increased, probably because so many friends and family had visited during the first week.
We’d agreed that it was okay to work on our crafts during quiet moments in the shop, thinking it added an element of authenticity when customers came in.
Of course, that only applied to some of the crafts – Christian certainly couldn’t start wielding his chainsaw.
I’d barely done any sewing recently and I’d really missed it so, in a mid-morning lull, I dug out the memory bear I was making from Cliff’s shirts.
I’d reached the final stage of stuffing the bear’s body and sewing up his back when a dark-haired woman entered the shop and glanced in my direction.
‘Good morning,’ I called to her.
‘Morning! A friend told me you have some stunning patchwork quilts.’
I rose from my chair to join her. ‘We’ve got one in the window and a few on display around the shop but I’ve got other colours and designs out the back. If you have a size or colour scheme in mind, I can dig out a selection for you.’
‘It’s for my mum. She’s about to move into a retirement flat in Keswick and I want to get her a quilt as a moving-in gift. It needs to be a double and it has to be pastels. She doesn’t do bright colours.’
I pointed out where the various quilts were on the shop floor and suggested the customer have a look through those while I brought some pastel-coloured ones through from the back.
We spent about twenty minutes looking through them and the woman narrowed it down to a green-and-cream one and a multicoloured one.
‘I can’t decide,’ she said. ‘Do you mind if I take photos and send them to my daughters?’
‘No problem at all.’ I held up the quilts so she could take a full photo of each.
‘How many daughters do you have?’ I asked.
‘Three – age twenty, seventeen and thirteen. My poor husband,’ she said, laughing, ‘but he says he wouldn’t have it any other way.’
I returned to my bear so she could peruse the rest of the shop in peace while waiting for replies.
‘My eldest says the green one,’ she called to me as a text came through.
‘I’m leaning towards that. It’s Mum’s favourite colour.
’ Her phone beeped a couple more times and she laughed again.
‘That was no help whatsoever. The other two have said the multicoloured one so it’s two votes each. Which do you prefer?’
‘I’m not the best person to ask as I’m a bit biased. I was the one who made them.’
Her eyes widened. ‘Just these ones or all of them?’
‘All of them.’
‘You are so talented. I wish I was creative but I can’t knit, sew, bake, draw… but I can change the oil in the car and fix the washing machine when it has a hissy fit.’
‘I can’t do either of those things so I’m in awe of your talents. It’d be a boring old world if we were all good at the same things.’
The woman smiled. ‘Too right! I’m Fen, by the way.’
‘Yvonne.’
‘What are you working on because that doesn’t look like a quilt to me?’
I turned the bear over so Fen could see him from the front. ‘He’s a memory bear. These were my husband’s shirts.’
‘Oh, I’m sorry. Recent bereavement?’
‘Five years ago but I’d never got around to doing anything with his clothes. I’ve sold my house so I had to do a clear-out and a friend suggested making a bear from my favourites. I’m really pleased with him.’
‘He’s gorgeous. I don’t suppose you take orders?’
‘I hadn’t thought about it but I don’t see why not.
’ I did a swift calculation in my head. As the customer would be supplying the fabric, I only needed to charge for the stuffing, thread and eyes, but I needed to account for the labour, bearing in mind that the cutting up and organising of the patches did take a lot of time.
I suggested a price, expecting a pass but she smiled.
‘That sounds reasonable to me. My dad passed away recently and I reckon my mum would love a memory bear from his shirts. We’ve just bagged up his clothes this past week but haven’t done anything with them yet so this is perfect timing.
I think my girls would like one each too.
Any chance you could make four? I’ve got a niece and nephew too but they’re a bit older so I think I’d better ask them first. What do you need from me? ’
‘A pile of clean shirts and some guidance as to which are the favourites as I can make those ones more prominent and include them on every bear. Some insight into your dad’s personality would be good too.
I can attempt a facial expression that’s more serious or a bit cheeky, depending on what he was like. ’
‘I love that idea. I live in Kendal but my brother lives in Keswick so I’ll get him to drop them off but I’ll scribble down some notes. Do you need a deposit?’
‘Ten pounds per bear when your brother drops the shirts off.’
‘That’s fine. I’ll send cash with James and, for now, I’ll take the green quilt, please.’
When Fen left, I couldn’t stop smiling. I’d sold yet another quilt and I had orders for four memory bears. It had never entered my head to sell them but I’d check the others were happy with it and, assuming they were, I’d get Saffy to make a sign and I’d display Cliff’s bear in the shop.