Page 58 of Finding Love at the Magical Curiosity Shop
He’s not wrong there. Every moment I’ve had with Ren this week, it seems like a customer has come in, and judging by the takings in the till when I cashed up last night, most of them are buying things too.
‘What can we do to help?’
‘Nothing. You’ve both done more than enough already. Witt and Sadie are handling the event itself. Lissa’s going to stay here with the diary, and I’m going to flit around where anyone needs me. All of the other shopkeepers are doing this for nothing in return – the least I can do is keep them well supplied in tea and cakes.’
‘I can help with that.’
‘Aww, I’ve always said you’d be the best boyfriend ever.’
‘Am I your boyfriend?’ His face breaks into a huge grin. ‘That makes me feel like I’m about twenty again. At what age does the termboy-friend become an unfeasible description?’
I can’t help giggling at the giddy look on his face and the twinkle in his blue eyes. ‘Curmudgeon-friend then.’
He laughs so hard he nearly falls off the bench. ‘You make me feel like I should be back in school, andnotin a teaching position. I feel like a hormone-fuelled teenager whenever I’m with you. In a good way.’
We laugh and enjoy the sunshine together, and I tell myself to stop worrying about what might happen.Thisis worth fighting for, even if life is easier in the summer holidays, it’s not like I’m never going to see him again. This is the mostrightthing I’ve ever felt, and RenandAva are worth fighting for because spending time with them is the only thing that’s improved my life in recent years.
When Lissa and Ava come back, Ava has already taken on the job of assistant manager of the stall today. She sticks with Lissa, and when customers start trickling in, she excitedly tells them the story of the diary, how we found it, and points out key entries on the wall of photocopies behind us, and politely declines any offers we get from collectors who want to buy it, telling them firmly that it’s our most prized possession, and swiftly turning it into a shop plug. ‘It’s not for sale, but you never know, you might find even better treasures in The Mermaid’s Treasure Trove!’ she trills at one man who’s just offered to buy the diary. ‘Be sure to come back soon!’
It’s a shame she’s got to go back to school because I’d happily take her on as a shop assistant.
Quite a few journalists come over, taking notes about the diary, taking photos of it, and Ava handles them like a pro, chatting away like her life depends on it. I see Ren hovering in the background, looking proud of how much confidence she’s gained. Each one leaves with assurances that the Philip Teasdale Antiques Fair will be getting rave reviews from their publications.
‘This is the best fun ever,’ Ava says as she comes with me when I walk round the castle gardens to check on everyone running stalls on my behalf.
‘Not Alton Towers?’
‘Way better!’
It makes me laugh. There can’t be many teenagers who’d rather go to an antiques fair than a theme park.
When Witt comes over just before lunchtime to check on us, and I introduce Ren and Ava, he offers to show them around the castle, and when they come back from their private tour, Ava is buzzing because a local news crew have just arrived, and I stand on tiptoes from our raised spot to peer over the hedge and watch as they get out of their van with cameras and filming equipment.
A reporter and film crew gradually make their way through the grounds, filming every stall as they go, and while my palms are sweaty and I think I might throw up before they make their way to us, Ava’s practically vibrating with excitement, and she chats away to the reporter, seemingly oblivious to the guy holding the camera right behind him. I almost don’t have to say anything as she waxes lyrical about our find, and the possibility that mermaids once existed in UK waters.
I get the diary out and flip through it on camera, and give a little background story about my dad and how the Philip Teasdale Antiques Fair came to be this year.
When evening comes, Witt and Sadie have dragged a TV into the main hallway of the castle and ordered a takeaway for everyone, and we all gather to watch ourselves on the local news, and we go home happy, and exhausted, and looking forward to doing it all again tomorrow after a truly successful first day.
* * *
Sunday dawns dry and warm, and after the news broadcast went out last night, it’smuchbusier than yesterday, and the antiques themselves are dwindling fast. Ren, Ava, and I have brought some more stuff up from the shop, and all my fellow shopkeepers have volunteered to come back for the second day of the antiques fair too.
It’s mid-afternoon and Lissa’s gone for a tea break, and Ava is in her element with me at the diary stall, while Ren has gone off with fellow history geek Witt to talk about, I don’t know, historical points of architectural interest in the castle or something like that, when a woman approaches, clutching a wooden chest that’s decorated with seashells and has an anchor-shaped padlock on the front. It gives me an immediate flashback to the one we found the diary in, and the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.
‘I think you have something that belongs to my family.’ She puts the chest down on an empty spot on our table and points to the diary in the locked display box.
Ava’s attention was on a goth-type teenage boy trailing behind a parent down in the courtyard, but her head suddenly whips around and I see her clock the similar chest and the woman’s finger, pointing towardsourdiary.
‘We’ve spent months searching for it. Imagine my surprise when I saw you on the news last night and there it was!’
I place my palm on the box. ‘You’re saying this is yours?’
‘It was sold off in the house clearance by mistake, wasn’t it? That’s how you came by it?’
I nod, trying to ignore the sinking feeling coming over me. Did we say that to the news reporter last night? I don’t think we did. I don’t think she’d know that if she didn’t have a legitimate claim to the book.
‘It’s a family heirloom,’ she continues. ‘My mum had possession of it, and when she passed away last year, although we looked for it in her house, we couldn’t find it anywhere. In the haze of grief, my sister and I assumed our aunt must’ve had it, and our aunt assumed one of us had it, and it was only weeks after the house clearance sale when we all got together that we realised none of us had it, and it must’ve been in Mum’s belongings all along. We’ve been desperately trying to trace the buyers who purchased bundles from the house, but the auction company have been most unforthcoming in sharing details. My sister and I have been trawling antiques shops in the area, my aunt has been mounting an online search, and there you were on the local news, waiting for us to find you.’
