Chapter 2 #2
We passed the newsagent’s and then the everything shop, where Maeve’s husband Ian sold exactly that – everything – from the nameless unit with its creaking spiral staircase up under the eaves.
Birthday cards, disposable barbecues, hair accessories and spring bulbs, all neatly shelved and labelled like an old-timey general store in a cowboy film.
He even wore an apron and kept a pencil behind his ear.
‘Sally’s Sweets’ wasn’t open yet and Sally herself was probably already at her first job as the school receptionist. Every day at three she rushed down to open the shop before the kids were released for the day.
Her little red moped the herald of the chaos that was to come at ten past.
Maeve gave me a wave through the bakery window as we passed and I waved back. Richard was on his phone, looking at Twitter and occasionally glancing up to navigate the cobbles. Finally, I saw the sign for ‘Ewe and Me’. This was really happening.
‘Hiya!’ Emma was already outside the shop front, wearing an ankle-length purple duster I’d crocheted for her in an ombré, from lilac to darkest aubergine. She twirled to show it off and then handed me a steaming bamboo travel cup with one of my handmade cosies on it.
‘Made you a chai before I left home – should be perfectly drinkable by now.’
‘Thank you!’ I handed her the insulated bag I’d squirrelled away into my handbag. ‘Bacon farl?’
‘God, yes.’ She dug the sandwich out and bit into it, humming her enjoyment.
‘You’re the best,’ she said, through a mouthful of soft white dough and tomato sauce.
If you didn’t know Emma, you’d probably assume at a glance that she was veggie, or vegan.
But her love for animals came from a distinct ‘circle of life’ approach to the universe.
Something I’d tried to explain to Richard more than once when he made jokes about lentils and tofu.
Which I was attempting to train him out of.
‘Morning,’ Richard said, eyes following the scattering of crumbs over her purple T-shirt. ‘Shall we go in?’
I unlocked the door with ceremony and waved them through.
As I snapped on the lights and breathed in the scent from my handmade wardrobe sachets hanging by the door, I smiled.
Opening day! I felt like a little girl waiting for people to come to my birthday party.
I wished I’d brought some cake in, to be honest. But I’d have had to buy it – baking was a skill I’d never mastered. Like most things.
Part of why I owed Aunt Lou so much was that she’d taught me to do the one thing I was any good at: crochet.
I’d spent my childhood never really finding my own niche.
I wasn’t sporty or particularly clever. I liked to read but not enough for it to be my ‘thing’.
I was politely removed from recorder club after failing to master ‘Three Blind Mice’ after several months of wincing tutelage from Mrs Bennet (who retired shortly thereafter – which I took slightly personally).
I sucked at drama, couldn’t learn chess, got scared by video games, and my inability to do so much as a forward roll nixed me from gymnastics.
Then Aunt Lou put a hook and yarn in my hands and finally, for the first time, I was good at something.
It came so easily, so joyfully. I didn’t just find my ‘thing’ – I found an outlet for all the stress and anxiety of growing up.
All thanks to her. It was like she’d introduced me to the me I was meant to be.
‘Oh, before I forget.’ Emma set her farl down carefully on the strawberry-patterned napkin I’d wrapped it in. ‘Here – first-day present.’
‘Aww, you didn’t have to,’ I said, taking the small package from her nonetheless. It was something hard inside a striped paper bag, sealed closed with glittery tape.
‘May it bring you luck,’ she said.
I opened the bag and pulled out a keyring.
Part of it Emma had obviously engraved herself, punching ‘Tabitha’s Keys’ into it on one side and ‘Ewe and Me’ on the other.
Alongside that, she’d used jump rings to attach a yellow crystal point and a string of beads made out of something orange-red and sparkly.
‘Citrine and goldstone – for prosperity and wealth,’ she explained. ‘Also, they’re pretty, so…’
‘I love it.’ I hugged her and then held it out to show Richard. ‘Isn’t it so nice?’
‘Very… cute,’ Richard said.
Emma smiled at him, but I saw her eyebrows twitch upwards.
Any time witchy stuff came up, it was a reminder of how much they were polar opposites.
Whilst that was good for me, because I benefited from their varied energy, they did tend to rub each other up the wrong way.
Two cats warily circling each other, ready to start hissing and swiping at each other if I turned my back.
‘So where do you want me?’ Richard asked, looking around the shop. ‘I suppose I can do a few hours on the till?’
He had actually offered to spend the day helping out, so I hoped it would be more than that. Maybe he just meant that he’d move on to something else after a while, so I could take a break from being on my feet.
‘That would be great – then I can talk to customers, give them advice if necessary.’ I turned to Emma. ‘And if you could restock throughout the day and make some more of those crystal stitch markers out back, that would be amazing.’
Emma patted her capacious tote bag. ‘Brought my wire and my beads – I’ll be churning them out.’
‘Perfect.’ I shook my hands out, discharging some excitement into the air. ‘All right then, I’ll flip the sign to “Open” and… we’ll see what happens.’