1
Daisy Henley juggled the school bags, her market basket, and a paper bag full of cinnamon buns as she tried to usher the twins through the front gate of Pretty Beach Primary. Evie had lost a shoe somewhere between the car and the playground gate, Margot had dropped her lunchbox twice, and Daisy’s coffee, by way of a broken cup lid, had sloshed out over her hand at least three times before she'd even kissed them goodbye. Just another regular old school morning in Daisy’s life. At least she’d made it in one piece and both girls were dressed and looked presentable. That was, for sure, some accomplishment. Winning.
Once the twins were safely inside the gates, lining up in the playground and then heading towards their classrooms, Daisy stood at the gate for a moment, adjusted her cardigan, and let out a long, slow, elongated, thank-goodness-for-that breath. Another morning of successfully depositing the twins to school on time and ready to fill their darling little brains with education. Not that she ever told anyone because no one was interested, but she was more than proud that so far, since the day the twins had started preschool, they had never, ever been late. Not even a smidgeon of lateness had been in their schoollife world. Some feat for sure. A medal was required for someone somewhere along the line. When there’s only one adult and identical twin girls, that’s saying something.
Not to say that mornings and indeed evenings were ever without mishap, though, and sometimes scheduled arrival times were made by the skin of all three of their teeth. The morning in question had already included spilt yoghurt, a missing reading folder, and one scraped knee. But Daisy was doing well, and if she could get back to the bookshop without any further hiccups, she would mark it down in her planner as a good day. Another good start to her day was that she was loving being back in the centre of Pretty Beach and walking her girls to school. It was the little things in her life and moving back into Pretty Beach proper that were a huge deal to her. Long may they last.
About fifteen minutes later, Daisy had popped three red wine gums in her mouth and was walking down the laneway. She smiled at a soft clang from the church bells in the distance, bunting fluttering in the breeze above her and the ferry horn honking away to itself from somewhere up the coast. Taking a big, deep, gulp of air, she held it in her lungs for a moment. It smelt fresh, chock-full of sea salt and if Daisy wasn’t mistaken, something about the smell meant that there was a storm somewhere out on the horizon. She’d lived in Pretty Beach her whole life and could smell when a storm was brewing just by the feel and smell of the air. If she wasn’t very much mistaken, Pretty Beach was about to take a little bit of a battering.
As she strolled through the town on her way back to the bookshop, the usual Pretty Beach suspects were out and about; Xian from the bakery in ginormous headphones and a pink fluffy roll neck jumper waved from across the road and a woman from the florist who was unloading trays of plants smiled and raised her chin in greeting. A couple of dogs who were tied up outside the Spar were being stroked by Juliette the midwife, and theworld had a good sort of hum to it as Daisy thought about all that she had to do in her day.
As the laneway turned the corner, she smiled as she reached her little shop and couldn’t quite believe how her life had zoomed dangerously to the left, then reared to the right and was now back on the straight and narrow again by way of a new business, no rent to pay and quite a nice, tall, dark and handsome specimen waiting in the wings. The Bookshop Pretty Beach stood waiting for her, indeed, looking quite the part. The fairy lights in the window she’d switched on that morning were twinkling away to themselves and the sign over the door swayed back and forth in the wind. Stepping onto the tessellated entrance, she twisted the old brass key in the lock at the bottom, gave the sticking section of the door a gentle thump with her hip, walked inside and inhaled deeply. Nice, mmm, books, lavender, tea, life, calm and peace. Her favourite kind of combination. Ever since she’d taken on the building and cleaned it to within an inch of its life, the smell had become one that she loved when she arrived through the door. Almost as if the scent itself welcomed her to what now felt very much like her home and where she would play out the rest of her life for a while. It couldn’t have come soon enough.
Just as she had gone around the shop, popping on the little lamps here and there and had lit a gigantic and very fancy candle given to her by her sister Annabelle that resided on the counter, there was a tap on the front door. Squinting as she turned around, she could see her sister Maggie peering through the glass. Maggie stood in the doorway and, as usual, looked immaculate and ready for anything; gorgeous oversized sunglasses, wide-leg linen trousers, a high neck soft and floaty blouse and a coffee in each hand. Daisy brushed her floral shirt down, opened the door and Maggie stepped in wafting around very expensive, exquisitely chosen perfume.
Maggie raised her eyebrows. ‘You look frazzled. Did you run a marathon this morning or just the school drop off?’
Daisy rolled her eyes. ‘A marathon would have been easier. It was just the usual chaos on the school run. Someone spilt yoghurt on my top before seven-thirty, there was a lost shoe, a missing reading folder and crying over a dropped lunchbox. That’s all you need to know.’
‘Evie or Margot about the lunchbox?’ Maggie asked, handing over one of the coffees and perching herself on the edge of the front desk as if she owned the place.
‘Margot.’ Daisy took a grateful sip of the coffee. ‘Obviously. She’s currently in her “everything is a disaster” phase. You’d think I’d packed her off with a bag of coal instead of ham sandwiches. She really was very dramatic this morning. Thanks for the coffee, lifesaver.’
Maggie chuckled. ‘And Evie? How was my little poppet this morning?’
‘Evie was doing fine until her shoe came off halfway across the pavement. Then she decided her sock was too “bumpy” and refused to put her foot back in. We stood there for five minutes while I tried to smooth out the air inside a sock. I nearly cried, let alone her. You know what she gets like when something like that happens. She was inconsolable for a bit.’
‘Sounds about right.’ Maggie took a white paper bag out of her handbag, opened the top and offered Daisy a cinnamon bun. ‘There’s definitely a dramatic one and a quietly stubborn one. They look identical but are very different. Funny how that has worked out.’
Daisy sighed and pointed to her own paper bag of buns. ‘I got buns too. Yep, it’s not even nine and I’ve already negotiated two ceasefires, a missing hairbrush, a yoghurt incident and a debate over whose turn it was to carry the fruit snack. Life with twins…’
‘And yet you look remarkably sane on the outside. It’s only because I am your older sister that I know that you’re frazzled inside. Nice topknot. Very boho thrown-together chic.’ Maggie eyed Daisy’s bun.
Daisy laughed. ‘The topknot is the only thing holding me together at this point. I haven’t even had a bite of breakfast. However, I am pleased to say that we all arrived on time and in one piece and mostly we were clean. Anyway, what can I do for you? Just popping in?’
Maggie chuckled. ‘Well, luckily for you, I come bearing caffeine and news.’
‘News?’
‘I bumped into someone at the bakery who mentioned that your fairy lights were spotted on TikTok.’
‘What?’
‘Apparently, someone filmed your little display corner through the window last night. It’s the back of you tidying and the wingback chair in the corner and it’s being shared around the socials. Comments like "seaside bookshop dream" and "I want to live in this shop" are doing the rounds.’
Daisy shook her head and frowned. ‘I didn’t see that.’
‘It’s there and it’s all very you.’
Daisy blinked. ‘Someone filmed through the window, did they? Goodness.’
Maggie raised her eyebrows. ‘They did. Imagine, you might be the next viral bookshop that’s all over Insta.’
Daisy paused mid-sip. ‘I might not.’
‘You are already,’ Maggie confirmed. ‘Your fairy light reel has made its way onto some big account with a pastel aesthetic and a million followers. Someone posted a story of you pottering in here and about wanting to live in your shop.’
‘Brilliant,’ Daisy muttered, grabbing her phone and shaking her head. ‘I looked a right state here last night.’
