local mums to enjoy your tea and treats while we entertained their little ones.’
Ben’s chest deflated, his lips pursing. ‘Excellent idea, Poppy, Joe. But do you promise that this look will be for Mondays only?’
‘We promise.’ Poppy made a cross over her heart. ‘Although I’m totally getting one to wear at home.’
‘You’re incorrigible.’ Ben backed away towards the kitchen door. ‘Always have been.’
‘Yeah well, you’ll come to love this onesie. Heck, I bet you’ll end up buying one.’ Poppy smiled as Ben gave another vigorous head shake. ‘Now go finish up that icing and get that tea of yours brewing. It’s time to make our fortune.’
***
Poppy slumped onto the small wooden desk that occupied a corner of the tiny storeroom and rested her head on her arm. She rarely dealt with self-doubt – refused to as a means of self-preservation – but the numbers on the calculator, the money on the table, and the receipts from the sales were giving her a headache, and making her question how wise she’d been to think running a gift shop would be easy.
Sure, it had seemed simple enough on paper. She’d saved the money up so she’d be going in debt-free. Bought the stock. Made everything look as appealing as possible. She’d posted on Muswell Hill’s social media pages that Sparkle & Steep was opening, and within a day it had been shared. And shared. And shared some more. Gone viral, according to Joe. And the people had come.
Boy, had they come. In droves. People whisked in on their way to work or during their lunch break. Mothers with babies wrapped to their chests, and toddlers in hand, popped in, excited to see the latest arrival. Retirees poked their heads in, curious to see what had lain behind the store frontage that had been papered-over for the last two weeks.
The store’s chimes had bing-bonged all day long as people came to investigate the newest addition to Muswell Hill. Ben’s tea shop had been so busy he’d had to put on a second pot of the day’s trial tea within the first hour of opening, and both pots had been emptied and refilled by Sophie numerous times. Meanwhile Sparkle had been filled with squeals of delight and joyful sighs as people discovered her range of unicorn clothing, accessories and homeware. And the story-time session had been a hit, bolstering sales on both sides of the store, and ended with the mothers and fathers who’d brought their little ones along asking if it could be a daily occurrence, much to Ben’s chagrin.
Her till had beeped its way through the day, and now she had a bunch of numbers to make sense of. At least she didn’t have a store to tidy; Joe had taken care of that, bless his unicorn-shod feet.
A Ben-shaped shadow fell across the floor, followed by the man himself. ‘You look like I feel.’
Poppy pushed herself into a sitting position and cupped her chin in her hand. ‘I don’t think so. You don’t even have a hair out of place. I’m pretty sure mine’s so frizzy I’d be mistaken for an angel.’
She laughed as Ben’s forehead creased in confusion.
‘I call it the “black halo”.’ She indicated to the circumference of her head that had a tendency to boof out when she got all hot and bothered – which she had as the day wore on and she’d darted back and forth showcasing her wares to interested parties. ‘So, did your day go as well as I think it did?’
‘Better. I’m going to have to come in even earlier tomorrow to get more baking done. And I’ll need to call my tea supplier because at this rate I’ll be scraping the bottom of the tins by the end of the week.’ Ben rubbed his hands together in glee. ‘I knew this could work. I knew I wasn’t a fool to…’ The gleam in Ben’s eyes disappeared.
‘Someone called you a fool for opening your shop?’ Poppy didn’t need three guesses to figure out who. ‘It’s one thing for your father to not approve of your choice to open a shop, but he has no right to call you a fool. No right to try and control you.’ She pulled out the chair beside her and patted it.
Ben settled into the chair beside her, clasped his hands behind his head and leaned back, tipping his chin so he was staring at the ceiling. ‘I don’t think he’s trying to control me. I just don’t think he can understand why I’d give up a solid career – a career our family has found success in for decades – on what he thinks is a whim.’
‘When you put it like that…’ Poppy spun the pen in front of her, faster and faster. ‘I must admit, I did wonder if you’d been hit on the head or something when you mentioned your plans to open a tea shop. Sure, you could bake as a kid. And the last couple of weeks I’ve tried enough of your creations to know they’re better than all the other baking I’ve ever tried – and I’ve tried a lot of baking. But you’ve never been one to take risks. To strike out on your own.’
Ben laughed, harsh and humourless. ‘Well, we can’t all be like you now, can we, Poppy? Not all of us are able to just give something a go, or leave someone behind, without thinking of the repercussions.’
Poppy didn’t miss the hint of hurt. Ben thought she’d not taken his feelings into consideration when she’d left, but she had. Big time. He was one of two very big reasons that she had to leave. In going she’d saved his heart from hurt and saved herself from hurting him. She’d hoped time and space would heal any wounds, but perhaps she’d been a fool to think that.
‘I’m sorry.’ She laid a hand on his forearm, her heart growing heavy when Ben flinched. ‘I know it was sudden, my leaving and all. But it wasn’t like I didn’t keep in touch.’
Ben turned his gaze on Poppy. His expression impassive, like he’d stopped caring. Or forced himself to. ‘I know. But just because you told me you were okay, that it was going well, it didn’t mean I didn’t worry. I did. Especially in the early stages of your travels.’
Poppy went to defend herself, to tell Ben she could handle herself – that she had handled herself – but Ben held up his hand, stopping her.
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