for all things white was turning. Fifties brights were very popular now, and rich aubergines were also going down a storm. As for sludgy pink chairs, they were flying out so fast, she could barely keep up with demand.
Izzy had hauled lots of bits and pieces from her storage shed lower down the garden, onto the terrace, which she had swathed in dust sheets. Sitting in a splash of sunlight, by the open kitchen French windows, she began to paint. Today, despite the air being filled with the scent of early-summer lilac, her mind refused to wander any further than yesterday’s grubby building site, and guess who…? It was as if her brain had the whole action replay on repeat. It was like when her younger twin brothers played on their FIFA game on X box, and the snippets of commentary kept coming round again and again. Except each time she heard her own voice in her memory, she cringed, and kicked herself, wishing she’d said something different. Talk about torture.
By four o’clock she was exhausted and bemused, but at least she had a satisfying array of transformed tables, cupboards, chairs and frames, drying in the sun. Just looking at them made her insides go all warm with a glow of well-being. Every time she made something perfect again, it reinforced that she was in control of her life. She was just about to head inside to wash her brushes when her phone rang.
She grabbed her handset. ‘Luce, shouldn’t you be picking up Ruby?’
‘No, I’m at work, Ruby and Lolly are at Dida’s.’ Luce gave a husky laugh. ‘And I’m ringing to tell you about a hot guy, at six o’clock.’
Automatically Izzy scanned the horizon, as she did whenever Luce tipped her off about talent in the vicinity. ‘Thanks for the heads up, but I’m definitely too far away to appreciate him from here.’
‘I’m not talking six o clock positions.’ Luce sounded as if she couldn’t believe Izzy hadn’t understood. ‘Six o’ clock is the time for the delivery I’ve organised for you to do. Remember the new initiative? And this delivery is to the yummiest guy ever, who’s just walked out of here. I’m setting you up, okay?’
Or how about not okay. Izzy was kicking herself now, but she’d brought this on herself, when she should have known better. The merest mention of a man this morning, and Luce had launched into a full blown “grab a man for Izzy” offensive.
‘Why didn’t you grab him first?’ Izzy queried. It was a fact of life that the male shoppers honed in on Luce, and she was exceptionally up for fun times, so long as it wasn’t any more than that. What’s more, sometimes flirting sold furniture, simple as.
‘I’ve got someone else in mind for now…’ Luce didn’t elaborate. ‘And to be honest this particular guy didn’t seem that interested in me.’
Not interested? Izzy couldn’t see that being true. As for whoever Luce was thinking about, Izzy didn’t always keep track of the string of guys who Luce saw. Sometimes she hooked up with Josh, who was a dead ringer for Henry Cavill, guaranteed any girl a great time in bed, but shied away from anything more permanent since his mum died. Or Cal, who was similarly gifted, and up for no ties, whilst working past a break up. The others came and went. End of.
A while back it had maybe seemed like Luce was going a bit more crazy than usual on her Friday nights off. But now Izzy came to think of it, lately she’d barely been aware of Luce’s liaisons at all. Luce passing over the guy with the delivery was maybe a sign of a bigger trend Izzy had been a) blind and b) stupid, not to notice.
Luce carried on. ‘There’s only a couple of bedside cupboards to deliver to him, and that small rocking horse of yours.’
‘No…’ Izzy let out a groan. ‘I know I have to sell things, but I love that horse, it’ll be a real wrench to let it go.’ She knew she shouldn’t complain. Sales were sales, and getting attached or sentimental in this business was not an option, especially now.
‘A rocking horse is definitely a better bet that a falabella pony.’ Luce complained. ‘Honestly these falabellas are all we hear about at the moment, Ruby and Lolly are crazy about them. Daisy Benson from school’s got one, unfortunately for Dida and me. They’re the size of a dog, but they’re actually a horse, in perfect miniature detail - they even smell of horse apparently.’
‘Sorry, but I’m with Ruby and Lolly on this one, they sound adorable.’ Izzy gave a smile.
‘Exactly, that’s the whole trouble.’ Luce let out a wail. ‘Daisy’s pony is just big enough to pull a little cart with a can of lager in. Ruby isn’t so bad, because she knows there’s no chance of getting one in the flat, but Lolly’s making Dida’s life a misery, pleading for one.’
‘What a pain.’ Izzy had so much admiration for the way Luce handled having a child.
‘Anyway, at least some lucky child is getting your rocking horse.’ Luce switched back to business. ‘I got the impression that yummy guy is looking to buy a lot, which is another reason I offered him one of our new Vintage Cinema Club special deliveries. He left written directions by the till, but remember, you need to be nice to him.’ Luce paused, supposedly to emphasise that last point. ‘You can thank me for the date you get, later.’
Date? As if. ‘As of yesterday morning I’m on my best behaviour, but I should point out I was only ever rude when it was warranted.’ Izzy had to stand up for herself on this, and she was having to ignore that Luce wasn’t agreeing with her here. ‘Fine, I’ll be round soon to pick up the things. And try not to devour any more male customers in the meantime.’
Izzy could imagine Luce’s eye roll here.
‘This one’s worth the drive, I promise.’ Luce wasn’t giving up. ‘Stop resisting, go and enjoy the view. If I miss you, I’ll see you later in the bar, okay?’
Friday Evening, 6th June
IZZY
Ashbourne
Special delivery, fully loaded
Batting along country lanes towards Ashbourne, Izzy was driving a vehicle that was a dead ringer for a dustbin and which was both noisy and bumpy. She suspected an actual dustbin may have been slightly more comfortable than Ollie’s battered old Citroen Tube van, affectionately known as Chou-fleur, but at least it had started without a problem. Ollie had spent months on a total rebuild of Chou, working outside in the back lane, with his welding gear. Izzy was very grateful to her brother for leaving her Chou, but at times Izzy found the mechanical idiosyncrasies hard to work with. What with flagging batteries and dying starter motors, leaving home at all was a game of chance. Perhaps the clunky engine had sprung into life without complaint because Chou-fleur appreciated an outing on this sunny evening, and the bursting hawthorn blossom on the hedges, much the same as Izzy did.
She yanked on the wheel, and attempted to coax Chou-fleur round a sharp bend. Steering wasn’t that easy in the van, but then braking wasn’t her strong point either. But the up side was that with Vintage at the Cinema, Everything Retro written in large letters across both the grey sides, Chou-fleur was very distinctive, not to say eye catching, and free mobile advertising was a fab way to spread the word. And if you were entirely without transport, as Izzy had been since her last car died a few months back, you were damned appreciative of anything with an engine and some wheels.
Izzy pulled the scrap of
