‘Sure,’ Noah says, nodding pragmatically. ‘I can see where you’re coming from, Kate, but there’s not really too much you can do about it if his shop is opening soon.’
‘Oh, isn’t there?’ I say, folding my arms. ‘We’ll see about that …’
Three
I leave Noah, thanking him again and promising I’ll pop back for the machine. Then I walk Barney, my mind still buzzing, back to Harbour Street.
Noah was right, of course – I couldn’t physically stop someone from opening an art shop here, but there was no doubt it would definitely put a dent in our profits if they did. Our forte was craft supplies. We didn’t even attempt to stock as much art equipment as a specialist shop as we simply didn’t have the room, but we were the only place in St Felix that supplied anything, so when one of the many amateur artists who flocked to the town every year ran short of ultramarine, cerulean or any number of shades of blue or green paint, as they so frequently seemed to, currently they only had us to turn to.
‘I’m just popping out again,’ I tell Anita as I let Barney through the door, and he heads immediately for his water bowl behind the shop counter. ‘I won’t be long. You and Sebastian are okay for a bit, aren’t you?’
‘Of course, dear,’ Anita says, folding some swatches of quilting fabric into neat triangles. ‘Off somewhere nice?’
‘Not exactly,’ I say quickly, not wanting to explain more right now. ‘I won’t be long. Did Molly get in yet?’
‘She did. I’ve hurried her up the stairs to start on her homework just like you said.’
‘You’re a star, Anita!’
‘She may have taken a little piece of cake with her to ease the burden,’ Anita says, smiling serenely as she continues with her folding.
I leave the shop and walk quickly along Harbour Street. I wave to our local bakers Ant and Dec in the Blue Canary Bakery as I pass. Their window, as always, is looking pretty empty by now this late in the afternoon, and their shop much quieter than if I’d walked past earlier in the day, when queues usually stream out on to the cobbles as people wait patiently for their delicious cakes, sandwiches and, of course, traditional pasties.
The old butcher’s shop that Noah had mentioned isn’t on Harbour Street. It’s just off the top, on a small cross-roads that holds more high-street-style shops – including a chemist, a bank, and a newsagent.
I’d noticed there had been some renovations going on when I’d passed by over the last few weeks, but because there had been shutters covering the windows I hadn’t given any thought to what was going to open.
Now I was giving it a lot of thought.
‘Hi,’ I say to a few locals passing me on the pavement as I stare up at the building that had housed the old butcher. ‘Lovely day, isn’t it?’
One of the upstairs windows is open so I can hear the sound of a radio playing. Someone is definitely in there.
‘Hello!’ I call up to the open window. ‘Is anyone home?’ Whoever is there obviously can’t hear me over the music. I step forwards and rattle on the door, then I stand back again.
Nothing.
I bang even harder on the door, this time more aggressively.
‘Yo!’ I hear someone calling from the window. ‘Can I help you? We’re not open yet.’
‘Yes, I can see that!’ I call back as I step back again so I can see who I’m talking to. ‘I wondered if I could have a word with the owner if he’s in?’
‘That would be me.’ A man wearing a baseball cap looks down from the window. He smiles. ‘What can I do for you?’
‘Er, can’t you come down and open the door?’ I ask. ‘It’s a bit awkward me shouting up to you through an open window?’
‘Not as awkward as it will be for me opening up the door to you.’
‘Why?’
He looks away for a moment, then sighs. ‘Trust me, it is. What do you want?’ he asks, sounding a bit annoyed. ‘I’m a bit busy right now.’
Charming. ‘I wanted to talk to you about your shop.’
‘Why? Do you want a job? I’m not really hiring yet.’
‘No, I most certainly do not. I already own my own shop actually.’
