Page 64 of Finding Love at the Magical Curiosity Shop
He makes some grunting noises as it sounds like he’s attempting to pick up whatever it is he’s found, but he refuses my offer when I call out to ask if he needs any help, and soon enough he reappears, carrying… the dragon fruit table. I clamp the inside of my cheek between my teeth in an attempt to stop the tears that instantly make my vision blurry. I desperatelyneedto tell Ren and the fact that Ican’ttell Ren makes my heart break all over again when it was already shattered into enough pieces this week.
‘You want to buythat?’ My voice is hoarse and sandpapery, and I try to cover it by taking a drink from my water bottle, but it has nothing to do with being dry-mouthed and everything to do with it being the dragon fruit table that Ren was so sure would never sell. The dragon fruit table that he singled out because he didn’t want to admit how much he liked it really.
‘Oh, absolutely. What a delightfully quirky piece. Do you know if there’s a story behind it?’
I go to tell him the story I told Ren all those weeks ago, about the man who carved it for his dragon fruit-loving wife, but no words come out, and I end up shaking my head mutely. ‘There isn’t one.’
‘What a shame.’ He digs some notes out of his wallet without attempting to haggle. ‘It looks like the sort of piece that would have a story behind it.’
‘It does, doesn’t it?’ I murmur as I hand him his receipt, and he shoves it in his pocket and lifts the table again.
‘Charming shop you’ve got here. See you again, I hope.’
I thank him and watch as he leaves, and it feels significant. That stupid table had become important for no real reason, and watching the man walk off down the street with it is like saying goodbye to the last piece of everything good that happened this summer, and I hope that no one else comes in for a while because I’ll never be able to explain why I’m crying over a resin table made in the likeness of a fruit I’ve never eaten.
21
In the course of a few days, summer has turned to autumn. Schools started back this week and as I watch streams of uniformed children clutching brand new bags and trotting to school with their hands clutched by harried parents, I can’t help thinking of Ren and Ava. They both must be back in school now. My summer holiday visions of Ava coming here every afternoon when school finishes and Ren coming to pick her up and spending lazy autumnal evenings together have wilted like The Beast’s enchanted rose petals, but unlike a Disney fairytale, there’s no magical enchantress coming to cast a spell and undo all the damage that’s been done.
It’s suspiciously quiet on Ever After Street as I walk to work on Saturday morning. It’s always quiet in the lull between summer holidays and the rush of Christmas shoppers starting towards the end of next month. My shop is a few doors down from the bookshop and I wave to Marnie as I pass because she’s in her window, rearranging a display around her cat, and then I wave to Cleo and Bram, who are both in their windows, putting cakes out to tempt customers in. Oddly, Sadie is also in the window of The Cinderella Shop, putting a beautiful gown on a mannequin, and Franca and Raff have found something to fiddle with at the archway that separates Ever After Street from Christmas Ever After, and Imogen is standing at the doorway of the 1001 Nights restaurant, which doesn’t open until late afternoon, chatting to Ali, who isneverin work at this time of day…
I stop and turn around, looking back the way I’ve come, and I get the feeling of walking down the street during a zombie apocalypse. Everything is menacingly quiet, curtains twitch when I glance in their direction, and there isn’t a customer in sight. The only thing that’s missing is an upturned car, a Hollywood hero running around, and the sound of distant sirens.
‘Hi.’
The scream I let out is so blood-curdling that it could definitely be associated with a zombie apocalypse, and I spin around in shock to see Ren waiting by the door of my shop… and on the street in front of him is the dragon fruit table.
There’s a chair on either side of it, and on the tabletop is a book, and a dragon fruit. An actual dragon fruit, on a plate, with a knife. ‘What the…?’
‘I owe you an apology.’ He glances behind him, and Ava appears from round the side of the shop, with Lissa behind her. ‘Weowe you an apology.’
Ava waves nervously and I wave back at her, and then my eyes flick to Lissa. ‘I thought you were going to punch him, not help him!’
‘I am. He’ll just never know when,’ she says cheerily and makes that ‘I’m watching you’ gesture at him this time. ‘In the meantime, maybe listen to what the man has to say. Come on, Ave, let’s give them a bit of privacy. Cleo’s going to open up early just for us. Anything you want is on the house.’
‘So youareall in on this then?’ I call after her as she leads Ava away, not expecting an answer because it’s obvious. I’ve worked on this street for years – not once have I seen so many shopkeepers find something vital to do in their windows in such perfect sync.
Ava glances back over her shoulder and I give her what I hope is a reassuring smile. Whatever’s going on here, I want her to know that everything that happened last weekend is water under the bridge, if she wants it to be too.
Cleo’s waiting at the door of The Wonderland Teapot and I watch her open up and let them in, and then I watch all four of them pretend not to be looking at us, before I turn back to Ren. ‘What are you doing here? What isthatdoing here? I sold it on Thursday!’
‘You sold it to me. That was my mate from work. He’s a teacher in the art department. He only did it on the condition that he can borrow it sometime as a still-life subject for his students to draw.’
‘Iknewthere was something off about him! He saidexactlywhat I said to you the first time you saw it!’ I’m absolutely delighted to see it again, and totally shocked by how much trouble Ren has gone to.
‘You didn’t tell him the story.’
‘There is no story,’ I mutter, because it’s long past time I stopped making up stories about the items in my shop and sold them as what they are, not what I want them to be.
‘Yeah, there is, and that’s what makes your shop so special.You. You make everything special because youseeeverything as special, and?—’
‘I thought I was a “mistake that should never have happened”,’ I interrupt by paraphrasing his words from last weekend, because hearing that is not something I can forget easily.
‘You’re not. Of course you’re not, and I’m getting to that part, but I don’t want you to stop believing in magic because I’m a creaky old curmudgeon who doesn’t get it.’
‘You get it, even if you pretend not to.’ His suitably guilty look makes me smile to myself. ‘I wasdevastatedto see this table gone, and to sell it without being able to tell you, because I knew you secretly loved it.’
‘I do. From the moment I saw it – not because ofit, but because of you. Because of what you see in it. Ava cleared a space for it in our front hallway because I want to be reminded of your approach to life every day, but I couldn’t just walk in and buy it after last weekend, I needed more time to put together a decent apology, hence the calling in of favours and a bit of hoop-jumping. Also, it’s very hard to find an actual dragon fruit. I feel like I’ve been on a week-long tour of Britain’s supermarkets.’
