Page 43 of The Little Shop on Silver Linings Street
She took down a floor-length gown, the like of which Daisy had never seen before. It was like something from a fairy tale.
‘And we will start with this,’ said Monique. ‘Because I want to see the light on your face and in your heart when you wear it. For you the perfect colour, I think?’ She held the dress closer so that Daisy could see it more clearly.
It was simply styled, sleeveless, with a fitted bodice and full skirt, but its beauty was in its colour – a pale teal-blue silk printed with large flowers. A layer of tulle lay over the silk, the bodice embellished with beautiful embroidery to accent the flowers. It softened the whole look and it was quite the prettiest dress that Daisy had ever seen.
Monique slipped it expertly over her head, nodding with satisfaction at her choice. It fitted like a glove and, as she settled the fabric around her, Daisy raised her head to look at her reflection.
The initial shock at seeing herself in something so different was expected, but as she stared at her reflection an unexpected feeling crept over her. She smiled as the word came to her lips.Ethereal. Yes, that was it. She felt as if she were made of gossamer, that only the lightest threads still tethered her to earth and that any moment she could pull free and fly…
She shook her head, smiling. How silly. And yet… As she stood there trying to work out what it was about the gown, apart from its grandeur, that made it so very different from anything she had ever worn before, she suddenly realised that it was because it was patterned. And every single thing she owned at home was plain. How had she never even seen that? The things she adored the most were all patterned – the play of moonlight on water, dancing buttercups in the meadow, even raindrops glittering on the spiders’ webs that hung from her gate – and yet she had surrounded herself with none of these things.
Monique was watching her. ‘You like this, yes? You feel…’ She snapped her fingers. ‘Yes, like the million dollars?’
Daisy laughed. ‘It probably costs that much too.’
‘Non, not quite the four thousand pounds. A bargain, don’t you think?’ She laughed at Daisy’s reaction.
‘I shouldn’t even be wearing this,’ she said, horrified. ‘What if I damage it?’ She lifted her hands clear of the fabric she had just been stroking. ‘How can a dress even cost that much?’
Monique shrugged. ‘We have many that are even more expensive. But how can you put a cost on how this dress makes you feel? If all your clothes made you feel this way then there would be no need for beauty such as this, no?’
She looked around her, gesturing at a large canvas hanging on the wall beside the sofas. ‘A work of art hangs on a wall and it justifies its very existence simply by being looked at. And this is all right because it has a famous painter. The man who made this dress has also painted a work of art and yet he has used fabric to do so. So I ask you, Daisy, what is the difference?’
Daisy stared at herself in the mirror, seeing things she’d never seen before, and a small smile crept up her face. One small extravagance every day…
‘Can I ask you something, Monique?’ she said after a few moments. ‘What are you going to tell Lawrence? About today, I mean.’
Monique thought for a moment, weighing something up in her head before holding up a finger. ‘One moment,’ she said, and slipped back through the door. She was gone for even less time than before and when she returned she was carrying a square wooden box which she placed down on the table. ‘Come,’ she said. ‘Sit down,’ and she beckoned Daisy across.
The lid of the box was hinged either side and split down the middle so that it opened from the centre. Pulling either piece caused the sides to expand outwards rather like a grandiose toolbox, except that when Daisy saw what was nestled inside, she gasped in shock.
‘They are replicas only,’ said Monique. ‘The gowns, they are the one thing, but these… I would live in fear of handling them.’
Monique lifted a ‘diamond’ choker clear from where it was lying alongside an assortment of other jewels, the sight of which made Daisy feel faint. She was used to handling expensive jewellery, but the things Buchanans sold might as well have been tawdry baubles by comparison. Monique handed her the necklace before opening the other side of the box so that Daisy could see the full array of what was on offer.
For a moment Daisy was so busy trying to take in what was in front of her that she didn’t really ‘see’ what she was meant to. After a few more seconds though, the penny dropped and she looked up at Monique.
‘I was supposed to choose one of these?’ she asked. She didn’t even need to look for Monique’s quiet nod to know that she was right.
‘As an accompaniment to the clothes,’ Monique replied. ‘For each outfit a new choice, or perhaps the same choice. They are all items which are available in the store and I was to let Lawrence know which you favoured. It’s my job to discern these things even when nothing is said.’
Daisy nodded. ‘I see… And he didn’t think I would see through that?’
Monique shrugged. ‘I think Lawrence is used to taking the quickest route to the things he wants.’ She really didn’t need to say any more.
Daisy laid the necklace back in the box. ‘So whatareyou going to tell him?’
‘Well now, let me see if Monique has got it right… ‘ Her eyes were twinkling. ‘So… You are wearing this dress, on the most beautiful night of your life, and you want it to be absolutely perfect. What do you choose?’
‘None of them,’ replied Daisy immediately.
Monique beamed, clearly delighted with her answer. ‘Then I shall tell Lawrence that I’m afraid I cannot help him.’
14
Friday 13th December
Twelve shopping days until Christmas
