Page 31 of Finding Love at the Magical Curiosity Shop
It surprises me so much that the tears that were about to spill over stop in their tracks. ‘Ava, that’s something your dad is never going to do. You think he’s dull and predictable, but that translates to being steadfast and reliable. I get the impression that your mum was fun and exciting, and while that might be exhilarating in the short-term, what you really need in a parent is exactly what your dad’s built of. Strong and steady. There are worse things he could do than drink nothing but tea and go to bed early. I know he wasn’t exciting enough for your mum, but you’ve got a good,goodguy there and you’re the most important thing in the world to him. Trust me, people like your dad don’t walk out on people they love. Don’t let your mum’s actions cloud the reflection of your dad too.’
She gives it some serious thought, and then comes over and gives me another hug. ‘Thanks, Mickey.’
We’re interrupted by a customer coming in, and Ava immediately goes over and asks the woman if she’s looking for anything in particular. I remember what Ren said about her lacking in confidence, and I get the sense that being here really has done her good. When she ends up buying a bell jar containing a model of a frog doing yoga, Ava brings it up to the counter and wraps it in tissue paper, and all I have to do is put the money into the till, wondering if I’ve accidentally fallen foul of child labour laws.
‘You didn’t tell her the story,’ Ava says as the woman leaves.
‘What story?’
‘I don’t know. Whatever story you’ve made up behind the frog in the jar.’
‘Oh!’ I laugh awkwardly. ‘Your dad’s made me wonder if I rely too much on stories and not enough on cold, hard facts. I don’t think she minded too much.’ I glance out the window and it brings my mind back to a thought that’s been niggling lately. ‘Speaking of cold, hard facts… Honest opinion – what do you think of the stuff outside?’
I ask her for a second opinion on the tables and crates beyond the window, with a few display pieces and boxes of stuff for people to rifle through. Ithoughtit was a whimsical hotch-potch way of displaying things, but now I’ve started to wonder if it’s looking like a junk overflow, the thought won’t go away.
‘Bad. It’s sooo bad. It’s ugly and cluttered and it looks like the shop has filled up with so much stuff that it’s had to vomit the excess onto the street outside, and you don’t tidy it often enough.’
I laugh because she’s definitely inherited her dad’s bluntness and then pull my sleeves up with a determined nod. ‘Come on then, let’s get rid of it.’
‘Not the mermaid’s tail though! You’ve got to keep the mermaid’s tail, it’s awesome!’ she calls after me as I run upstairs to grab a couple of pairs of gloves and some binbags.
The mermaid’s tail meets approval. At least I’m doing something right.
9
It feels good to be outside with Ava. We’ve both got on pink rubber gloves and we’re throwing everything into binbags with reckless abandon, and itisfreeing rather than daunting for once. The little bits and pieces I’ve thought people might look at and come to see if there were more inside have got muddled as they’ve been rifled through, but I can’t remember the last time anyone picked something up and did anything more than put it down again hastily.
‘At least you don’t have to worry about anyone stealing it because no one would want it.’ Ava empties a box of old marbles into the rubbish bag I’m holding open. There are also crates of other things people might collect, like tiny glass bottles, and vintage tins and cookware, a few ornaments, some pre-loved toys, and some artificial plants to pretty it up.
I can’t help laughing even though she makes a good point, and it feels great to be making a noticeable difference in a short space of time. The decluttering inside is more of a long-term project, and even though Ren and I designated a lot of stuff for the tip or charity shops the other day, it hasn’t made much of a dent yet, but out here, the street in front of my shop rapidly looks clear and inviting.
When we’re done, I send Ava across to The Wonderland Teapot to get us another drink each, and while I fold up the tables, she goes back to looking for ocean-themed stuff for my stall at the antiques fair.
‘We could photocopy pages from the diary and display them behind the stall,’ she says as soon as I get back inside, hefting a table through the doorway. There are a few things that she’s put ready for me on the counter, and I love how thoroughly she’s checking everything for hidden nooks and crannies now. ‘We could pin them all onto a big board side by side, so it looks like wallpaper, and then you could have the diary in a display case, and all this sea-themed stuff on the stall in front of you, and people could read the pages and ask about them without having to touch the real diary and risk damaging it.’
‘You really do think of everything.’ I chuck the folded tables out the back and when I get back to the main part of the shop, she’s sucking her strawberry milkshake through the straw and looking at me expectantly, like she’s waiting for some other penny to drop. ‘What?’
‘Weee-eell, you’ll need to know how it ends, won’t you? For the antiques fair, right? So we should read another entry. Only for the antiques fair.’
I can’t help giggling. ‘The antiques fair isn’t until the very end of August. I’ve got over three weeks to find out how it ends.’
‘Oh, come on! Before Dad gets back. He doesn’t care, he thinks it’s a load of nonsense, but you get it and I want to read it with you because you won’t criticise every possibility.’
I admire her enthusiasm as I get the book out, because honestly, I’ve been itching to read more too, and restraining ourselves until Ren gets back suddenly seems too long to wait.
‘Your dad cares more than you think he does though,’ I add, because I think he does, just a little bit.
28 February 1899
Every time I look at him, I feel like I’ve spun in sixty circles and my stomach bounces around inside me. I am giddy with joy. I feel like there are little people tapdancing inside my body and my veins are thrumming with the thousands of taps of tiny little feet. He is the most wonderful person I’ve ever met.
I form his name in my mouth and act like I’m going to say it out loud. I keep trying, but my vocal cords don’t work like a human’s do, but his name is the first word I’ve ever felt like I could speak aloud, if I tried hard enough. Jeremiah. Jeremiah. Jeremiah.
It’s written in three different styles of handwriting, and I glance at Ava in excitement. She’s mouthing the word like it’s written in the diary. This ishuge! We have a name! Wehaveto be able to do something with this. This is a gigantic step towards finding something, anything, that will prove this whole thing is real.
He has taken over my whole life, but it’s more than that. He has taken over my entire soul. Every time I close my eyes, I think of him. When I am awake, I am talking to him via my notebooks. When I am asleep, I dream of him.
The other day, I sat beside the fire and he lay beside me. He rested his head on my lap and I stroked his hair until he fell asleep. It was the nicest thing I’ve ever felt. I continued stroking his hair until he woke and smiled at me, and I felt like I was dreaming too.
