Just as she was pondering what else to add to the corner, her phone pinged.
Holly:Just wondering if you can come to the meeting tomorrow a bit early to help with the tea? Nel will be there but she’ll probs need a hand. We’ll be coming back from Darling Island.
Daisy:Of course. I’ll message Nel.
Holly:Thx. See you there. So many people are coming.
Daisy:Good.
Holly:We’re going to stop those ***** getting a hold of our town.
Daisy:Hope so. I really do.
27
The next day Daisy had had a long conversation with Miles about his mum and how it was all going to pan out. He’d sounded much better but overall nothing much had changed apart from the stitches on his mum’s head had got infected and his brother was being a pain. The front doorbell gave a little bit of a jingle and a half-clunk as someone came into the bookshop. Daisy looked up from behind the counter to see Lotta breezing in, her hair up in a slightly chaotic bun, an oversized scarf looped three times around her neck, huge sunglasses and a canvas bookbag with “ALWAYS READING” across the front.
Lotta smiled and walked straight up to the counter. ‘Oh, my word, it smells amazing in here, Daise. I love that smell. If only we could bottle it, we’d be billionaires, eh? Can I smell nutmeg or patchouli or something as well as lovely old books and the scent of aged paper? You see, this is why the likes of GayesBooks don’t have a chance! You cannot buy that smell and pump it out through an air conditioning system.’
Daisy smiled. She hated even the mention of GayesBooks. ‘It’s another castoff candle from my sister. Goodness knows where she got it from, but apparently it didn’t fit her aesthetic.’
‘Are you ready for the meeting?’
‘As I’ll ever be. What can we really do about it?’ Daisy was resigned to the fact that her fate had been sealed.
Lotta sighed. ‘Fight them with all we’ve got.’
‘Hmm. I don’t feel as if I have a lot of fight in me.’
Lotta tutted, glanced to her left, stopped just shy of the new corner, dropped her bag to the floor and put both hands to her mouth. ‘Oh, my actual God. What is that? Since when did that happen?’
‘That, my friend, is my new pride and joy. I did it yesterday. It’s an anti-GayesBooks movement in front of your eyes. What do you think?’
Lotta took a few steps forward and then bobbed down and crouched in front of the trolley. ‘What do I think? This is inspiring. The trolley thing! Where did you find that? Not another castoff from one of your sisters? Surely not?’
‘Facebook Marketplace find. Sue, over in the Old Town. Apparently, it came from the school library.’
‘I’m so in. I am sold.’ Lotta chuckled. ‘It’s made for the place. It looks like it’s always been here. Honestly, this corner is magical.’ Lotta took in the moss-green chair, the crate stacked with the seasonal reads, the jam jar of dried flowers, and the way the fairy lights looped around the window frame. ‘This corner is a marketing campaign all by itself. You are very,verygood at this. I know what I am talking about.’
Daisy chuckled. ‘Am I? I just needed a project to take my mind off the stuff with Miles and the GayesBooks thing and that area there has been niggling at me. I wanted something to fuss over that didn’t involve talking about hospital visits or unanswered messages.’
Lotta reached down and ran her hand over the edge of the trolley. ‘You’ve nailed it. People are going to be obsessed with this. It’s got that “oh I’ll just sit here for five minutes” energy and then three hours later they’re still there and three books down.’
‘That’s sort of the idea.’
‘And the rug? Where’s that from?’
‘Another one from Annabelle. It’s been sitting rolled up at the back of the lean-to waiting for its moment.’
‘Well, it’s having it now.’ Lotta dropped into the armchair and let out a sigh. ‘I’m not joking, Daise. This corner could win awards for comfiness. Stuff GayesBooks with their retro blond wood styling where the sun doesn’t shine.’
‘I hope so…’
‘Give me five minutes, I’ll have a full experience reel up by lunchtime.’ Lotta chuckled.
Daisy perched on the arm of the chair, smiling. ‘It’s funny, isn’t it? It’s all just stuff, really; an old chair, a few crates, a bit of bunting, but when you put it together right, it suddenly becomes something. I’m so pleased I’ve done it now. There was one thing missing and the trolley was it.’
Lotta leant her head back and closed her eyes. ‘It becomes magic, that’s what. This is what I call bookshop therapy and I know my bookshop corners. So, what’s happened about Miles? I mean, how are you really?’
