his eyes against the sun, glad for the moment to rest, relax… and try and figure out what the hell he’d just gotten himself into.
‘“Why did I agree to this?” That’s what you’re thinking, isn’t it?’
Ben opened his eyes to see the tip of Poppy’s tongue peeking out between her lips, a teasing smile lifting her lips.
‘I’m not going to screw this up, Ben. I promise. Sparkle & Steep is going to be amazing.’ Poppy took a sip of her wine and set the glass down. ‘It’ll be as brilliant as this view. Look at the view, Ben. Isn’t it brilliant?’
Ben turned to the window and saw a length of London sprawling before him, the cityscape rising tall and proud into a bright blue sky. ‘You’re right, it’s brilliant. God, I can’t believe you managed to find this place while living on the other side of the world.’
‘I’m lucky like that.’ Poppy grinned, her fingers rhythmically drumming on the table. ‘I’m also lucky to have you. You could have said no to me coming into the shop with you. You could have told me to stay in the car back there. You could have flat out refused to entertain the idea of going into business with me. But you didn’t. So, thank you.’
‘You’re not going to make me regret it, are you?’ Ben laid his hand over Poppy’s, stopping the incessant drumming.
‘No. I’m not. We’re going to prove your father wrong. More than that, we’re going to make him proud.’ Poppy lifted her glass. ‘To us. To Sparkle & Steep.’
Ben raised his glass to meet hers, then took a sip as was tradition. Making his father proud. Poppy made it seem so easy. So simple. But how did you make a man proud when you’d walked away from a profession that, for the men in his family, being part of was every bit a tradition as sipping your drink after proposing a toast?
‘Stop stewing, Ben.’ Poppy sprung up, crossed the room to where she’d dumped her backpack, then unclipped and rifled through it, sending a tattered lump of greyness, with a faded rainbow mane, falling to the floor.
Mr Flumpkins? Surely not? Had Poppy really carried the unicorn she’d found in Alexandra Park and – after being unable to find its owner – decided to adopt, around the world with her? She must’ve had him for twenty odd years by now.
‘Am I seeing things? Is that… Mr Flumpkins?’
Poppy hugged the soft toy to her chest. ‘It is. In the cosy, cuddly fluffy-ish flesh.’
Ben held his hand out, and Poppy passed the toy to him. ‘I can’t believe he’s still in one piece.’
‘Barely.’ Poppy continued rummaging through her bag. ‘He nearly lost his ear in an airport escalator a couple of years back. Fell out of my backpack, nearly got chomped, poor wee soul. Luckily a young girl snatched him up and gave him back before it was too late.’
‘I’m surprised she didn’t keep him for herself.’
‘Hardly. She told me I needed to chuck him and get myself a newer, prettier one. She liked the ice cream I bought her to say thanks well enough though. Ah, here’s what I’m looking for.’ She pulled out a shining, shimmering notebook, a pen threaded through its ringed spine. ‘We need to plan how we’re going to do this thing.’
Ben placed Mr Flumpkins on the windowsill and straightened up. Yes, a plan was needed. Big time. With a plan in place he’d feel less like he’d been shoved into a whirlwind and spat out again.
‘So…’ Poppy slid into the chair, opened the notebook and wrote the name she’d proposed at the top of a blank page. ‘I was thinking we could have multi-coloured chairs scattered around multi-coloured tables. Industrial style metal ones. They’ll look amazing. Also, unicorn-headed teaspoons. Oh, and I could get some of those cushions that are covered in sequins that can be brushed two ways to create different patterns so that the chairs are nice and comfy for those who want to sit and natter.’ She reached over and grabbed her mobile from its spot on the kitchen bench. ‘Find out where to get reversible sequin cushions,’ she said aloud as she typed the reminder into her phone. She set the phone down with a satisfied nod. ‘I’d sell them as well, of course. They’re fabulous.’
Ben blinked, trying to comprehend what he was hearing. So much for being spat out of the whirlwind. What was Poppy on about? Multi-coloured this and that? Sparkly cushions? That wasn’t the plan. That wasn’t gourmet. It sounded like… a unicorn had eaten too many sweets and thrown up all over the place.
‘Nooooo. No. Uh-uh. This won’t do. This isn’t going to work.’ He pushed the chair back, and began to pace the width of the room, trying to get his thoughts in order.
‘What do you mean it won’t work? It has to. We’ve signed the lease. We’ve committed.’ Poppy tapped the end of the pen on the notebook. ‘I’ve seen some unicorn-themed clothing that I was planning to sell, but maybe we could find tea lovers’ apparel too? Cake lovers’ apparel? There must be some out there we could import, or we could create our own?’
Ben’s stomach swirled. Tea and cake-loving apparel? Where was the sophistication? The class? This wasn’t what he had in mind, not by a long shot. It was like Poppy thought that by sharing a space with him they were joining forces, going into business together. An inseparable team. Just like the old days. But this wasn’t the old days. They’d been separated for years now. Gone down different paths. And, if he were one hundred per cent honest with himself, while it was one thing to share a lease, he didn’t want to share his shop. Not with someone who could so easily pack up and pick up in the middle of the night without saying a word.
Fear froze his frenetic pacing. And what if she did that anyway? Even if their shops were separate, he’d be left with one surly teen, one disengaged one, and half a shop’s worth of lease.
Ben swallowed hard, pushing the lump that was threatening to choke him, to drown his dreams, out of the way. ‘Poppy. Ground rules. We need to set some.’
‘Ground rules?’ Poppy’s head angled, her brows drawing together. ‘What kind?’
‘First of all. You are not to leave in the middle of the night without warning.’
Poppy huffed and rolled her eyes. ‘I did it once. Years ago. I’m a grown woman, I’m not going to do that again. I wouldn’t do it to you. There’s too much riding on this. I get that.’
‘Which leads me to the next rule. We have to keep our businesses separate. We can share a space, share the lease, but under no circumstances is any of your… paraphernalia to enter my side of the shop. “Steep” is not to look like a fairy chundered in it. There will be no glitter. No sparkle. No tackiness. No unicorns. My side of the shop—’ he placed his hand on his chest to emphasise the point ‘—is to be a place of refinement. Where people who appreciate good tea will come and discover new flavours and broaden their tea horizons, all while enjoying delicious morsels.’
Poppy rolled her eyes. ‘How did you and I ever end up friends? You’re such a stick in the mud. And who says “morsels” anymore? Food, Ben. They’ll be coming to eat your food.’ Poppy placed her hands on her hips. ‘Honestly, I can’t believe you’re so anti-unicorn. I knew I should’ve set up a cat-themed shop instead. Cat cafes are big business. I went to one in New Zealand and there was something so centring about having a cat purring on your lap while you were sipping a flat white. Although when one decided my braid was a plaything that wasn’t so fun. Who knew getting a kitten out of
