you can save me the political spiel,’ Holly’s eyes sparkled. ‘I’m afraid you shouldn’t count on my vote. I’m rather more in the Green Party camp these days.’
Charlie grinned at her, oddly charmed by her forthrightness. ‘Then I hope between now and the next general election, I might be able to change your mind!’
Holly smiled back. ‘Been there, done that, did some student conferences!’ she countered. ‘I found I wasn’t too keen on the company, after a while.’
Charlie felt a sudden rush of recognition at her words. Now that she’d dropped her guard, and he’d spent a little time talking to her, he couldn’t help thinking that she looked like someone he’d known a long time ago… for one night only. But it couldn’t be her. The girl he knew had been sensibly dressed in an on-the-knee, neutral suit; party colours and party line, he thought wryly. Nineteen years old, with subtle lipstick and strawberry-blonde hair cut in a sensible bob. But then, he supposed, it was a decade and a half ago. Anything more adventurous would have been unexpected, especially in that context. He was sure, looking back on it, that his sartorial choices would have been just as suspect.
‘I can’t say I blame you,’ Charlie replied gamely, trying to shrug off the sense of déjà vu that Holly had suddenly evoked. ‘I intend to spend as much time in the constituency as I can. Westminster can be a bit of a bubble, if you know what I mean.’
‘I suppose that’s what you all say when you get appointed,’ Holly said, with a slight edge to her voice. ‘I bet even Hugo Fitzgerald was an idealist twenty-five years ago. Shame he never really got anything done around here!’
‘We’re not all lazy fat cats, you know,’ Charlie replied, a little more sharply than he’d intended. ‘Some of us go into politics for the right reasons.’
‘I’m sure,’ Holly replied. ‘But you’ll forgive me if I say time will tell on that.’
‘I hope I’ll be able to show you,’ Charlie said. There was a pause, which he took as his cue to leave. ‘Take care, Holly.’
‘You too,’ Holly said brightly, gesturing to the door. ‘I look forward to you proving me otherwise.’
Charlie, feeling more unsettled with the encounter than he had so far with any of the other shop owners, walked to the door. He suspected that he’d have a long way to go to demonstrate his worth as an MP to Holly; strangely, however, he found himself wanting to do so, if only to prove her wrong.
3
‘Who was that?’ Rachel came carefully down the steep stairs from Holly’s flat to the shop floor carrying two mugs and a teapot on a wooden tray. ‘Looked fit from behind, whoever he was.’
Holly shook her head. ‘You should get out more.’ Taking the mug from the tray once Rachel had poured some tea into it, she sipped the strong, re-energising tea.
‘So, who was it?’
Holly felt her cheeks warm a little as she recalled the slightly awkward encounter. ‘That was Charlie Thorpe, the new MP for Willowbury and Stavenham.’
‘Wow, really? I hope he didn’t hear you slagging him off,’ Rachel grinned. ‘I mean, that would have been… awkward.’ She paused, catching sight of her sister’s expression. ‘He heard you, didn’t he?’
Holly grinned. ‘From the way he couldn’t wait to get out of here, I assume he did!’ She took another gulp of her tea. ‘I don’t care. He needs to know that some of us aren’t just going to give him the easy ride that Hugo Fitzgerald had. He’s going to have to work to represent us.’
‘Oh, hark at you!’ Rachel teased. ‘Sounds like he’s bringing out your militant side already. Not that it needs any encouragement, of course.’ Holly had taken part in several high-profile Green Party demonstrations over the years, and was known as a bit of a rabble-rouser, as well as a keen supporter of local Green initiatives. She’d organised several litter picks and recycling runs in the town since taking on the shop and was known to wince every time she saw a discarded plastic bag or bottle blowing in the breeze. An ethical eater, her love of a good bacon sandwich meant she couldn’t quite become fully vegetarian, but she tried to source her food as locally and organically as possible. Outside, in the small courtyard behind the shop, she had a raised bed that was packed full of aromatics and herbs, which she cooked fresh when she could and dried and stored in jars for the winter months.
‘I just don’t like seeing someone getting something for nothing,’ Holly muttered.
‘What, you mean like we did?’ Rachel reminded Holly gently. They’d been the joint beneficiaries of their paternal grandfather’s will; the money had been in trust until they both reached adulthood. While their father had initially raised an eyebrow about Holly’s business venture, he couldn’t dispute the fact that the shop made money, however improbably, and he was justifiably proud of the path she’d taken. Rachel, the more conventional sister, had put most of hers into buying a home for herself and Harry after her divorce.
‘That was different,’ Holly said. ‘Grandfather made a weird decision, but one we’ve really tried to make the best of. After all, I don’t think you’ll find Mum and Dad complaining that we’re not running to them every five seconds for money!’
‘Absolutely,’ Rachel agreed. ‘Although, for all of my looking on the bright side, as you call it, there’s not enough money in the world to get Harry new lungs, or in the trust to fund the drugs he needs privately.’ She shook her head.
‘We’ll get there,’ Holly said softly, looking over at where Harry was now playing. ‘The government and the drug companies will see sense eventually, the way the issue keeps being highlighted by campaigners and the media. You have to keep believing it, sis.’
‘I know.’ Rachel drank the rest of her tea. ‘I’ve got to go. Harry’s got a check-up at the hospital. We’re going to make an afternoon of it and grab an early dinner in Bristol if it all runs to time.’ Gesturing to Harry, she took the toddler’s hand and, after kissing her sister goodbye, she headed out of the door of the shop.
Holly’s heart ached as they left. She wished there was something else she could do, but even if she sold the shop and the two sisters pooled their resources, it still wouldn’t be enough. Since Rachel had got divorced a couple of years ago, the main responsibility for caring for Harry had become hers alone, with her ex-husband having moved to Singapore for his career. Rachel and Harry were financially provided for well enough by him, but that wasn’t the same as having someone to share the ups and downs of having a child with a serious illness day to day. Thus, the two sisters had grown closer, to the extent that they saw each other most days now they both lived in Willowbury.
Reluctantly, Holly’s thoughts wandered back to the visitor she’d just had; perhaps Charlie Thorpe would be able to help, after all. Then again, after he’d heard her opinion about him jumping into his dead colleague’s seat, she wondered if he’d be willing to listen to her anyway.
Sighing, she changed the background music and settled in for an afternoon of retail. She’d recently taken a massage course, which she was considering offering to customers, but she hadn’t yet been brave enough to advertise it in the shop. Perhaps it was time to take the plunge.
Taking a deep breath, she logged into ComIncense’s website and created a new page, titled ‘Holistic Massage Therapy’ and filled
