Page 23 of One Month's Notice

“Time to change the subject before we end up even deeper in the gutter. With your terrible driving, that’s where we spend most of our time, anyway!” Nat punched Lexi playfully on the arm. “Let me talk you through where I’ve got to with the shop design before we get to the fabric shop.”

Half an hour later and with a voice hoarse from singing along to their favourite songs, Nat recognised where they were.

“Pull up there, just on the left.” She pointed to a small row of shops up ahead.

Lexi flicked the indicator, swerved up onto the kerb and brought the car to a sudden halt.

The bell above the door tinkled as Nat and Lexi entered the small, unassuming shop. The exterior was weathered, its paint faded and timeworn, but the space inside danced with a kaleidoscope of colours. Bolts of fabric stood tall, like sentinels guarding the entrance to a magical realm. The scent of aged textiles lingered in the air, mingling with a light floral perfume. The shop’s owner was standing behind the cluttered counter. Silver hair framed a gentle face that crinkled with delight as soon as she spotted Nat.

“My dear!” she said, walking around and holding her arms out. “It’s been too long.”

“Hello, Mrs Thompson.” Nat smiled and returned the older woman’s gentle hug. The familiarity of the cosy space filled her with a sense of calm. “We’re on a mission for the perfect fabrics today.”

“Well, you’ve come to the right place.” Mrs Thompson chuckled, her eyes sparkling. “Let me show you the treasures we have tucked away.”

It was hard to believe that this warm soul was the same Mrs Thompson who had once loomed larger than life at the front of Nat’s university lecture theatre. Back then, her fire and passion for her craft had been intimidating. But over time, Nat had grown to understand the depth of love and kindness behind her stern demeanour.

Her lectures were a dizzying whirlwind of vibrant colours, intricate patterns and a deep-rooted history of textile design. Mrs Thompson’s enthusiasm was contagious, igniting a fire in Nat’s heart that cemented her dreams of becoming an interior designer.

As she wandered up and down the narrow aisles, Nat allowed her fingers to graze delicate silks and textured linens. The shop provided a rich tapestry of possibilities for her to bring Lexi’s shop to life. She inspected the different fabrics, imagining the stage with a dramatic backdrop for the performers. Lexi pulled out various textures and hues, each met with a thoughtful shake of Nat’s head. The anticipation built with every unfurled roll and piece of fabric discarded on the old wooden floor.

“Wait, my dears.” Mrs Thompson disappeared into the labyrinth. She emerged triumphantly, cradling a roll of deep claret velvet. “Draped correctly, and this will command attention and add a touch of elegance. And look here!” She produced a delicate gold fabric edging that sparkled under the dim shop lights. “You could add this trim to really take it up a notch.”

“Oh, they’re absolutely beautiful!” Nat’s eyes widened, and she could not stop her jaw falling open. “That’s exactly what I was looking for. Now, we need some wallpaper.”

Nat’s excitement was contagious as the trio continued their search, the small space pulsating with creative energy. Nat did a double take and stopped in her tracks. She delved into a cluster of rolls, frantically moving them to the side to reach what she was looking for. She turned to face Lexi and Mrs Thompson.

“I can’t believe it!” She was holding a thick roll of silver wallpaper adorned with black musical notes. The serendipitous discovery almost left her breathless as she showed Lexi. “This will be perfect for the back wall. It’s like it was made just for you!” She looked at Mrs Thompson with pleading eyes. “Please tell me there is more of this?”

Mrs Thompson disappeared upstairs into the stock room. The next few minutes felt like hours as Nat waited to see whether there would be enough to cover the space.

Finally, her voice floated down into the shop. “You’re in luck! I have four more rolls up here and I can always order more in if you need it.”

Nat let out a huge sigh of relief. “Fantastic. I’ll take all of those, please.” She ran up the stairs. “Let me come up and help you bring them down.”

Nat picked up two rolls of wallpaper and turned to walk back downstairs. A flash of colour caught her eye. A stunning piece of abstract art was leaning up against the wall. Splashes of cerulean, crimson, and gold were intermingled with darker tones of navy and forest green.

“Where did this come from?” Nat’s eyes were fixed on the artwork.

“A local artist gave me this print of his original piece for the shop, but it never felt quite right here.” Mrs Thompson sighed. “It was lost amongst the fabrics, so I tried it at home. But it definitely didn’t suit an old-fashioned bungalow!”

“Would you consider selling it?” Nat’s eyes brightened with inspiration. Her thoughts immediately sprung to Michael’s apartment and how it was calling out for a bit of colour. “I know just the place where its beauty would shine.” Hopefully he would appreciate the offer, rather than be offended. He knew she was an interior designer, and it was a gift, after all.

“Well, then. You can have it. No need for any money.” Mrs Thompson shook her head firmly. “It deserves to go somewhere it will be enjoyed, rather than gathering dust up here.”

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely.” Mrs Thompson smiled. “You are my favourite customer, after all! Take it downstairs and I’ll roll it carefully so you can frame it when you get home.”

Back downstairs, Mrs Thompson put the fabrics and wallpaper through the till and Nat handed over her credit card.

“Oh, I almost forgot!” Mrs Thomson reached under the counter and pulled out a small black box. “I’ve been saving these for you.” She opened the lid and held the box out.

Nat took it from her and carefully lifted out swatches of fabric that unfolded like lavish tapestries. Satins, rich as midnight, dripped between her fingers. She held up lace to reveal intricately woven floral motifs, each thread showcasing meticulous craftsmanship. Metallic brocades glistened with an elegant sheen, nestled amongst plush velvets. Each swatch was a miniature masterpiece infused with the essence of indulgence, beckoning with the promise of haute couture dreams.

“Are these…?” Nat’s voice faltered and her eyes grew wide.

Mrs Thompson nodded, a warm smile on her face.

---