‘With the right investment, it could really be something special.’
‘The right investment?’ Daisy found herself asking, though she wasn't sure she wanted to hear the answer.
The woman gave an arrogant wave of her hand. ‘Sorry, we’re just talking big business. This is very charming, but people want convenience, selection, and competitive prices. The market always finds a way to provide what people actually want.’
‘Actually, I think you'd be surprised how much people value independent bookshops. We offer something unique and special that the big chains can't.’ Daisy decided very uncharacteristically to beef herself up. ‘That is why we are doing so well.’
Marc looked up from his tablet. ‘There's definitely a niche market for this sort of thing. Very, yeah, err, quaint.’
Quaint.The word sat in Daisy's mouth. The bookshop suddenly felt small and vulnerable under their scrutiny. She really wanted them to leave and quickly, but couldn’t quite work out how she was going to politely get rid of them. It was the first time since she’d opened the shop that she’d felt as if she needed a security team. She wondered if she should call the cavalry and get Xian, Holly or Suntanned Pete to come in. ‘Are you, err, in the same line of work?’
The woman exchanged a glance with Marc. ‘We're always looking at opportunities in the retail sector. Books are certainly part of that conversation. I’ve been following your social media presence. Growth like that, with, from what I can see, has no financial backing, shows a real gap in the market.’ The woman's tone was light, friendly, breezy even, on the surface, but there was steel underneath it. Steel edged with nastiness.
Marc was now standing by the door. ‘The location really is ideal. Close enough to the main tourist area but with that village feel that people seem to love.’
Daisy felt her hands clench into fists at her sides.
‘Anyway, thank you for letting us have another look around. It's beenveryinformative.’
The woman called over her shoulder as they left. ‘Good luck with your little shop. I do hope you'll be able to keep it going.’
Daisy moved to the far side of the window so that she could watch the pair walk down the laneway. She saw them standing outside one of the old buildings, a few shops down, which had recently gone up for sale. Marc was pointing at the building, gesturing with his hands as if he were describing renovations. The woman was nodding, her expression animated in a way it hadn't been inside the bookshop.
Daisy's phone buzzed with a text from Miles asking about dinner plans, but she couldn’t concentrate on anything except the two figures outside. They were strangers with expensiveclothes and professional smiles, but they were looking at her corner of Pretty Beach as if it were for the taking. The building they were standing outside had been empty for a while, its windows dusty and its door locked. Daisy had assumed someone local would eventually take it over, turn it into another independent shop that would complement rather than compete with the existing businesses. She hadn't considered that someone might see it as an opportunity to change everything. A big bang of impending doom sounded as if Daisy’s head were a gong. It did not feel good. She wondered if the bump in the road she’d been anticipating had arrived.
12
It was the next evening and Pretty Beach was settling down for the day. The shops had closed and the sun had dipped behind the rooftops and what was left of the day fell in long, low shadows across the pavement outside the bookshop. Daisy reached for the chalkboard, accidentally smudged the chalk with the side of her palm, and leaned it carefully inside the door. The twins were curled up in the book corner and all the customers had left for the day. Margot was upside down in the big chair with her legs over the arm and a book balanced on her chest, while Evie was pressed into the cushions deep into a story about a pony that could talk. Both of them had managed to scatter their snack wrappers despite her instructions and Daisy had already made a mental note to sweep under the armchairs before locking up properly.
To be quite frank, she hadn’t spent too much time further thinking about the nasty school mum comments or the mysterious well-dressed customers because she’d been way too busy. The day had involved an emergency clean for Pete, Chloe, her work colleague at the bakery, coming down with a bout of flu and she’d been working in the shop which had meant that she’d been too busy for her brain to focus on anything otherthan all the things on her plate. There’d been little free time to worry about nasty women at the school, business people with an agenda or, indeed, whether or not Miles was going to hang around. That wasn’t to say that our lovely Daisy had not fantasised about perhaps yelling a few insults across the oh-so-refined echelons of Pretty Beach Primary’s playground and just scaring the other mums a little bit. For sure, she’d thought about doing that. How funny it would be to see the looks on their faces if she’d told them what was what. Very funny but not that clever in the long run.
In wide-leg soft and slouchy jeans and a pretty floral shirt with her hair pulled back in a wide thick hair scarf knotted at the side, Daisy stepped back out onto the pavement with a watering can in her hand, pulled the door mostly shut with a clink of the latch, and turned towards the hanging baskets. They had taken a battering from the wind and looked a tad tired, but they still had a bit of life left in them and the flowers were clinging on for dear life.
She'd just turned towards the middle basket when she heard a click of heels on the pavement and a “yoo-hoo” type bright, sugary voice.
‘Daisy! Hi!’
Daisy looked round slowly and forced herself to smile and not be stabby. Georgia, one of the school mums she’d overheard was in front of her. Georgia had been in the same year as Maggie at school and still wore her hair the exact same way she had back then. It was pinned in an elaborate updo that looked like it belonged in a photo shoot. Georgia was always made up, dressed to perfection and with lipstick on, even for school pick-up. The sort of woman who managed to look like she was on her way to lunch at a hotel, even when she was just collecting her child from Reception. Just looking at her rubbed Daisy up the wrong way.
‘Hello.’ Daisy was polite, firm and definitely not very friendly. She was giving off vibes for Georgia to jog right on.
Georgia didn’t pick up on them. She smiled a stretchy, fake grin that widened across her perfectly filled face. ‘Just passing and I thought I’d say hello. The shop looks darling, it really does. Honestly, I don’t know how you do it! You must have worked so hard, what with being a single mum and all…’
For a comical minute, it flashed through Daisy’s brain that she should somehow splosh water from the can all over Georgia’s perfect outfit. She also briefly considered how many years she’d get for stabbing her. She, instead, restrained herself. ‘Thank you. I’m just closing up for the day.’
Georgia glanced at the chalkboard and then through the window where the girls were still reading. ‘They’re looking as sweet as ever. I saw Margot in the playground this week. She was helping that little boy who took the skin off both his knees. It was so lovely to see her being such a kind little poppet. You’ve done such a good job with them, Daise, considering, well, you know, everything.’
Oh, you have not even an iota of a clue.
Daisy nodded and felt her skin prickle at Georgia shortening her name. She didn’t trust herself to say anything much, so she swallowed. Georgia had stood in front of her at the school gates not a few days before and said she’d give her and Miles six months.These men never stick around. Shame, really, those girls are so sweet.Now here she was, acting like they were old friends, giving out compliments. ‘Yes, she told me.’
Georgia shifted her bag higher on her shoulder and looked Daisy up and down. Her eyes skimmed the headband, the jeans, the slight smear of chalk on her shirt. ‘You always look so relaxed and together, Daise.’
Daisy smiled tightly and her mind blanked briefly. ‘That’s one way of putting it.’
‘Well, it suits you.’ Georgia waved her hand in the direction of the shop window. ‘The whole boho bookshop thing. Very, you know, lifestyle. My sister said you’re on that reel going around. You’ve gone a bit viral, haven’t you, in leggings and a cardi, no less?’
Daisy felt her jaw go tight. ‘Something like that.’
