Susan as a mother-in-law would have been unbearable.
‘So, who’s the letter from?’ Ditsy went on, sounding like she didn’t care, as they turned onto Main Street and the tarnished brass sign above the A to Z shop came into view.
Mia rolled her eyes. ‘Don’t pretend Jacques didn’t tell you. I’m sure he’s told every single person on his rounds this morning. And I don’t for a second believe you were actually attacking him to get the phone bill and a Fish Festival flyer.’
‘I just can’t believe he was hiding it in his pocket,’ Ditsy grumbled, fumbling for her keys. ‘All that wasted energy. I’m going to need a nap today. You might not get your afternoon off, after all.’
Ditsy’s A to Z shop was an institution in Aberarian. It had been there all of Mia’s life, and before, and any visitor to the town always remembered it long after they’d forgotten the jellyfish and the boat trips. Usually because they’d spent twenty-five minutes searching for mustard before realising every item in the shop was stored alphabetically on the twenty-six antique wooden shelves, each with a gilt letter resting atop them. It wasn’t practical, or particularly profitable, but it was certainly memorable.
‘Speaking of the Fish Festival,’ Ditsy said, pushing the door open, ‘they’re in trouble again.’
Ditsy struggled out of her camel hair jacket, revealing the full glory of the floral fantasia of fabric draped over her skinny body and tied with a pink and yellow beaded necklace for a belt around the waist. ‘The only person who ever cared what I looked like died a decade ago,’ Ditsy always said. ‘Besides, I like flowers.’ The camel hair coat found its way onto the usual peg behind the counter, next to Mia’s apron, and Ditsy dropped onto the stool by the till.
Mia pulled off her jacket to reveal her more sedate tea dress. As uniforms went, she supposed it wasn’t a bad one. Ditsy claimed they gave the shop a retro feel. Mia secretly believed the tea dress choice had more to do with Ditsy’s reluctance to go clothes shopping over the last few decades than any business motivation.
She pulled her attention back to the Fish Festival. ‘Again?’
Ditsy nodded. ‘Getting harder to pull it off every year, it seems.’
‘Well, they’re really in for it this year, then.’ Ditsy raised an eyebrow, and Mia explained, ‘With Mayor Fielding stepping down and all. It won’t be her problem by the autumn, so why should she care?’
‘You’re far too cynical, my dear.’ Ditsy reached over and patted her hand. ‘Now, time to get to work.’
They settled into their usual routine – Ditsy made the first cups of tea while Mia checked the till, set up the float from the safe in the back room, and straightened up the stock. When they were ready, she flipped the Closed sign over to Open, and they both sat down to wait for an influx of customers at nine o’clock.
Three hours, four customers – two tins of baked beans, a packet of chocolate hobnobs, and five hundred grams of plain flour – and eight cups of tea later, Ditsy asked, ‘Now, what are you going to do with your free afternoon?’
‘I can stay, if you like,’ Mia offered. Ditsy did look tired after her morning’s exertions.
‘Not at all. Not a word of it,’ Ditsy said. ‘It’s your afternoon off. And it might be your last chance before the summer rush starts. So, tell me, what have you got planned?’
The summer rush, Mia feared, grew less rush-like by the year. Last summer had been more of an amble. She sighed. ‘Nothing much. Although I did have some ideas about a large bar of chocolate and an Agatha Christie.’
Ditsy looked scandalised. ‘An attractive young thing like yourself, with no plans for an afternoon off? Nobody whisking you off for a romantic walk on the beach? Or champagne cocktails at the Grand? What will become of you?’
‘I’m meeting Charlie for a tasting and the cinema tonight, if that’s any better.’ Mia tried to imagine her morning walk with Charlie as romantic, but couldn’t. Especially since they’d mostly talked about how he wanted to leave her and Aberarian behind.
‘Charlie doesn’t count.’ Ditsy’s expression turned suspicious. ‘Unless there’s something you haven’t been telling me. You haven’t finally persuaded that handsome young man to break his vow of celibacy?’
The excitement in Ditsy’s eyes at the prospect was profoundly disturbing. ‘He’s a chef, not a priest, Ditsy. And it’s not a vow, as such. It’s understandable he’s reluctant to get into another relationship after Becky.’ She gave Ditsy a meaningful look, and the older woman looked suitably sheepish as she remembered exactly whose niece it was who had brought Charlie to town to start a new life then left him there alone with a restaurant, a fallen-down cottage and a broken heart. Not to mention the ways she’d made Mia’s life hell when they were teenagers.
‘Besides, Charlie and I are just friends.’ Mia quashed the small part of her that sometimes – very occasionally, mind – wondered what would happen if that wasn’t the case. No point dwelling on impossible things.
‘Which is my point!’ Ditsy said, raising a finger in triumph. ‘When are you going to find someone who isn’t just a friend?’
‘In Aberarian? Probably never.’ Mia sighed. She loved her hometown and had fought hard to stay there despite the decline in business, the gossips and the jellyfish. But it wasn’t exactly bursting at the seams with eligible bachelors. Which was another thing. She didn’t want Charlie – or anyone else for that matter – to fall into a relationship with her through lack of alternative options. She was worth a little more than that, thank you.
Ditsy looked sympathetic. ‘Well, who knows? Maybe the summer crowd will have some lookers this year.’
‘All married with small children on a family holiday at the seaside. Just what I’m searching for.’ She wasn’t even really searching. Life was pretty good just how it was. She had her flat above the shop, her friends… and a letter from her father in her bag. Mia’s mood took a downward slump.
Rolling her eyes, Ditsy shuffled into the back room and Mia heard the click of the kettle switch again. ‘Well with that kind of attitude there’s no hope for you. Just let me make another cup of tea to keep me going and I’ll let you run free to do your laundry or whatever.’
Mia let herself smile, since Ditsy couldn’t see her. ‘Own up, Ditsy, you just want to live vicariously through me.’
‘Of course!’ Ditsy stuck her head through the doorway. ‘I thought that much was obvious. It’s ten years since my Henry died. I’ve got to get my kicks somewhere, you know.’
‘Ditsy, I really don’t want to know about your…’ Mia trailed off as she realised Ditsy was paying her no attention whatsoever. The grin on the older woman’s face had spread even wider, and she pointed a sharp, bony finger towards the window.
‘Now,’ Ditsy said, her eyes bright. ‘What about him, then?’
It would have been less embarrassing, Mia thought, if the – admittedly very attractive – man on the other side of the glass hadn’t chosen that exact moment to look up and smile at them. Unfortunately, Mia’s world didn’t seem to believe in less embarrassing.
She groaned, sinking down onto her stool, bowing to the inevitable. The guy pushed
