Page 12 of The House at Hope Corner
‘I can’t see why anyone would object,’ replied Flora. ‘I think they’re beautiful.’
Grace cocked her head. ‘So what do you do? Something colourful, obviously.’
‘I make prints,’ said Flora. ‘Sketch first, then paint and then, if I like the painting, I go on to make a print. And you can use those on anything; cards, pictures, fabric, wallpaper…’
Grace’s eyes lit up. ‘Can you show me? We could sell them for you if you like. The adjoining room is full of local produce, everything from jam to baby blankets, runner beans – when they’re in season, obviously – to Mrs Jessop’s hideous homemade wine.’ She cupped a hand around her mouth. ‘But don’t tell her I said that.’ She looked at Flora expectantly.
Ned beamed at her. ‘See, I told you,’ he said.
Flora shoved a hand in her bag, fishing around for her phone. She hadn’t realised that Grace meant she should show her right that minute. ‘Hang on…’
‘Here, let me,’ said Grace, relieving her of the basket full of eggs.
Flora smiled her gratitude and after a moment removed her mobile with a flourish. ‘Just a sec,’ she said, as she waited for her Etsy page to load. ‘It’s a bit hard to tell with the pictures being so small, but you get the idea.’ She passed the phone to Grace, who stared at it with wide eyes.
‘Ah…’ She sighed, turning the phone around. ‘Stunning. I knew they would be.’ She looked up at Flora. ‘What’s your Etsy shop called?’ she asked. ‘I’ll have a proper look when I get home.’
‘Daisy Doolittles,’ she replied. ‘Don’t ask me why…’
‘Oh, no… I think that’s perfect.’ She studied the pictures for a few moments more, scrolling through the images. ‘I think, if you weren’t a Flora, that being a Daisy would suit you very well indeed.’ She grinned, handing back the phone. ‘Or at a push, a Poppy…’ She looked down at the basket in her hands. ‘Right, eggs,’ she said. ‘Let me just offload them and you can have the basket back. How many have you brought?’
‘There’s two dozen. Is that all right?’
Grace waved an airy hand as she walked back to the counter. ‘They’ll be gone before tomorrow,’ she replied. ‘Pension day, you see.’ She plonked the basket down and lifted out the trays. ‘Now, did you come in for anything else? You didn’t need to, it’s been lovely just meeting you, but I’m supposed to ask.’ She rolled her eyes. ‘Bill is ever hopeful he’ll make a proper saleswoman out of me.’
‘Just some honey please,’ answered Ned.
Flora nodded. ‘Oh, yes. I think there’s one in particular that Hannah…’ She broke off as Grace hoisted a jar aloft. ‘Ah, I see you know which one. It’s very nice. Is it local?’
Grace nodded. ‘Hmm, not too far away. Do you just want one jar?’
‘No, I’ll take a couple please. I was planning on making a honey cake for supper. And I have to confess I like it lashed onto fresh bread just out the oven.’
‘Nothing better,’ said Grace. ‘And don’t worry about paying,’ she added, seeing Flora fish in her bag again. ‘I’ll take the cost off what we pay Hannah for the eggs, same as usual.’
From the hallway came the sound of a tinkling bell as a new customer pushed open the door to the shop. Flora held out her hand for the basket. ‘We should get going,’ she said. ‘But, thank you, Grace. It’s been lovely meeting you.’
Grace beamed at her. ‘You too. So, I’ll see you again,’ she replied. ‘And next time, bring some of your prints in with you.’
Flora blushed again. ‘I will,’ she said, raising her hand in goodbye as she made way for the next customer, an excited buzz filling her head. ‘Oh, I definitely will.’
Grace came around the counter to say goodbye.
‘As for you, young man,’ she said, a warm hand on Ned’s arm. ‘Take the greatest care of Flora, won’t you?’
He grinned and pulled Flora in close. ‘Oh, I intend to. Believe me.’
They were halfway home before Flora suddenly stopped, realising that she had walked the entire way without saying a word; her head was stuffing itself full of ideas again.
She turned to Ned ready to apologise for her silence only to find that he was already watching her, an amused expression on his face.
‘You can’t wait, can you?’ he remarked. ‘All those thoughts inside your head whizzing around. I can almost see them, just as if you’d spoken them out loud.’
‘There’s just so much inspiration here,’ she replied. ‘Everywhere you look.’ Her face fell slightly. ‘You won’t let me get carried away though, will you? I’m not going to have time to be sitting around making prints all day, and you know what I’m like; I get engrossed and the day just goes.’
‘So let yourself,’ said Ned. ‘It’s a thing you do, Flora. And you shouldn’t try to deny it. Besides, Grace will now expect a regular supply of things to sell and if you don’t come up with the goods, she’ll want to know why.’
‘Is that okay, though? No one will mind?’
