Page 24 of Finding Love at the Magical Curiosity Shop
‘Since when does The Wonderland Teapot open this early on a Sunday?’ I say instead of any eloquent or traditional greeting.
‘Since I used my charm and powers of persuasion?’
I raise an eyebrow, because although I think he can be quite charming, he keeps it well hidden. Very well hidden, sometimes.
‘All right, I saw the Alice-looking woman and the bloke with blue hair in there and knocked, and she recognised me from the other day and said I could only come in if I was buying something for you.’
‘It seems like all you do is buy me tea and cake.’ I try not to think about Cleo’s matchmaking ideas. She’s got totally the wrong end of the stick there, so much so that she’s chewing on the tree trunk itself.
‘Tea and cake with the occasional insult thrown in?’
‘And the occasional unexpected hug which balances it out,’ I add.
His cheeks redden at the mention of the other day, and I hold the door open for him to come through. He pushes aside the bust of Michelangelo’s David blowing a big pink bubble that’s on the counter and makes space for the cake box. ‘No red velvet today. The Alice-woman said they were testing out new flavours and I was only allowed to buy these lemon and hazelnut shortbread crumble cakes if you promised to give her your verdict next time you see her.’
‘I will, although my verdict when it comes to cake is usually, “yay, cake”. Thanks for this.’ I lock the door again, to make sure no customers mistakenly think we’re open and wander in, and go over to take one of the cakes and the cup of tea he nudges towards me. ‘And forthis.’ I duck my head to indicate the shop around me. ‘You didn’t have to volunteer for this. You’re a brave man.’
‘Ava’s so jealous. When I told her where I was going today, I suddenly became “cool dad” and she made me promise not to be too hard on you and not to throw out anything “awesome”.’ He does the air quotes, and a thirteen-year-old’s protectiveness of me warms something in my soul, and also, makes me worry that she has more experience with her father than I do, and knowsexactlyhow brutal he’s going to be with my carefully curated stock.
I can’t help looking at him as he picks pieces off his cake and pops them into his mouth. His hair is still tamed with hair product, but he hasn’t shaved today, turning his otherwise ordinary jawline into quite possibly the sexiest jawline on the planet, with a shadow of dark stubble that’sscreamingto have fingers rubbed over it. He’s wearing a much more casual plain black T-shirt and navy jeans, and he looks preposterously gorgeous, all the way down to his mid-calf steel-toe-capped boots.
‘Good footwear choice.’
‘I figured this was the kind of place where many heavy objects are liable to crush me. Or I’ll annoy you so much that you’ll batter me to death with…’ He looks around and picks up a silver-plated swordfish on a wooden stand, and jabs it outwards a few times like he’s trying to fence with it. ‘…this rather strange fish ornament.’
‘Nah. I mean, I’ll consider it, but I like you too much to murder you.’
‘Aww, just when I thought my life was a lost cause, someone likes me enough not to commit homicide. I must be doing something right.’
I nudge my shoulder against his and he smiles down at me, and I realise I wasn’t exaggerating. Idolike him, almost definitely enough to let him stay breathing. I like how self-deprecating he is. I like his sarcastic sense of humour, but it’s not just that. I don’t know how today is going to go, but he’s offered help for nothing in return. Just out of the goodness of his heart, trying to help a virtual stranger, and he must know that this is not going to be an easy task, and that suggests he’s a good guy under the spiky outer layer.
Like he can tell I’m not quite ready to start on the decluttering portion of the day, instead of pushing me, he wanders around, picking up things and putting them back down again, probably unaware of the disapproving noises he’s making. ‘Is this a whale-shaped butter dish?’ He picks up an iridescent ceramic thing from a wooden bureau that’s piled up with knick-knacks. ‘Who would buy this?’
‘Someone who likes whales. And butter, obviously.’
He puts it down and picks up an angelfish-shaped china plate with hand-painted detailing so it looks like a real angelfish. ‘Don’t tell me, a perfect item for the discerning customer who loves fish so much they can’t bear to be parted from them long enough to eat from a normal plate?’
I sigh. ‘All right, maybe I’ve got a bit carried away and bought too many ocean-related things to fit the shop theme, but someone will love them, one day.’
‘You keep saying that,’ he says gently. ‘I’m privileged to have a better understanding of your collection now, but this is a retail establishment. Nothing flows, nothing makes sense. There are antiques here. There are probably valuable things here, but you don’t focus on them. Instead, you keep hoping that the right person for the right item is going to come along and…’ He turns the plate over and looks at the price sticker I’ve put on the underside. ‘…save your business by spending a whole three pounds. Something’s got to?—’
‘Change, I know.’ I finish the sentence for him. I was going to defend my choices, to say that ifenoughpeople came along and purchased trinkets for small amounts then it would make a big difference, but I know what he’s getting at. There are somanytrinkets on that bureau that even if the ideal customer looking for a fish-shaped plate happened along, they’d struggle to find it. If things were displayed in a more sensible way, there would be a better chance ofanyonebuying them. ‘From the moment you walked in, you have hadviewson my shop. Why are you so invested in this?’
‘What, you mean apart from the new scar on my forehead and my desire to ensure your Victorian birdcages don’t cause bodily harm to anyone else?’ He thinks for a few moments before giving me a quietly serious answer. ‘Because it’s been a long time since I’ve seen anywhere that makes Ava so happy. She’s struggling with confidence lately – with finding out who she is and being comfortable in her own skin, and there’s something about this place that lets her be herself with reckless abandon. I’m not a “reckless abandon” type of person, but you are, and it’s doing her good, and you’re obviously struggling to keep things afloat. I can see ways that might help to stop it sinking, and I understand that feeling of treading water all too well, and Ava adores you. Why wouldn’t I try to help?’
I nod, appreciating the boat metaphorsandthe honesty of his answer. He’s not wrong, Idofeel like I’ve been treading water for a while now, and I’m kind of grateful that he’s the only person who’s looked hard enough to see that.
‘Oh, that’s awesome. I love that.’ He’s picked up a mug shaped like a welly boot with a handle on the back. I came across it at a car boot sale and knew someone would love it one day.
‘Wait, there’s something you like? Are there flying pigs and three blue moons in the sky?’ I joke, but I hear that ‘knew someone would love it one day’ line echoing in my head again. How many times have I said that? How much longer can I go on purchasing and hoping to resell things that I hope to find a buyer for one day? Judging by the business account balance – not long.
‘You can joke but I’m going to buy that.’
‘There’s a cowboy boot one knocking around somewhere too.’
‘This illustrates my point. Why are they not together? Organised. If someone comes in looking for a mug, point them to a shelf whereallthe mugs are.’
‘But if someone comes in and goes over there but doesn’t go over there, they might miss it.’ I point my hands in opposite directions.
