Welcome to Rosie Hopkins' Sweet Shop of Dreams
Page 72
Moray nodded. ‘We were actually. Till he went off on his do-gooder jobs in Africa. Couldn’t believe I didn’t want to go with him.’
‘Why not?’
Moray snorted.
‘Would you? Anyway, I believe my sort isn’t exactly welcome over there. No. Seriously, I’d have been rubbish, no help at all. I like my home comforts too much. Just too selfish. Anyway, of course he pulled a classic Stephen, stormed off and I didn’t hear from him … I didn’t even know where he got his injury, I only found that out the other day. I figured he’d been bitten by a stoat or something and was just too embarrassed to tell anyone. Or a tiger.’
‘You don’t get tigers in Africa,’ piped up Edison.
‘And that,’ said Moray, ‘is why I’m better off in Derbyshire.’
They fell quiet for a moment.
‘Well, when you see him …’ said Rosie. Then she couldn’t think what she meant to say. ‘Oh, nothing. Just say hello from me. And that he’s an idiot.’
‘Will do,’ said Moray. ‘Are you coming down later?’
‘Yes, in a bit. Keep some cake for me.’
‘Is that really what you feel like after a morning surrounded by fudge? Cake?’
‘It’s for Lilian,’ said Rosie strictly. ‘Don’t you start. I’ve already had Blaine in here. And Hester the Vegan.’
Moray shuddered. ‘Ugh. Dentist cooties,’ he said, and winked and turned to go.
‘Hi, Edison,’ he said to the small figure crouched behind the counter. ‘How’s the stress constipation?’
‘Much better, thank you,’ said Edison seriously. ‘I think perhaps the yoga is helping after all.’
Rosie looked at Moray.
‘I suspect being here, in an environment where no one makes you do yoga, is helping after all,’ said Moray quietly to Rosie. ‘Good for you.’
Rosie watched him leave, shaking her head in disbelief. The country air had clearly made her gaydar go on the blink. She was pleased too, though kicked herself for feeling that it would have been strange for such a good-looking man to fancy her. It wouldn’t have been strange, she told herself, trying to make herself believe it. She still couldn’t get her head round it; after being in a relationship for eight years, she was single. Single at thirty-one. It was terrifying and upsetting and oddly liberating.
‘I wan egg wi present!’ a child was screeching on the floor, as the mother rotated anxiously, her hands fluttering like butterflies.
‘I’m so sorry,’ said Rosie, for the tenth time. Lilian had very strong views on candy that came with toys and after forcing her to back down on the whole gum issue, Rosie hadn’t pushed it any more than she needed to. ‘We just don’t have any.’
Rosie came out from behind the counter and crouched down beside the child. Behind, a queue was building up. Rosie was used to dealing with children in hospital – scared, in pain – and was good at coaxing. But pointless fury she couldn’t really get a handle on.
‘I want an egg!’
Rosie realised the child wasn’t as small as she had thought before. In fact, he was a big bruiser of a boy, which probably explained why his mum was not exactly rushing to pick him up.
‘Now, Nathan, they don’t have any,’ the mother was saying anxiously. ‘I’m very sorry, I’m sure we can find another place.’
‘Want it now!’
‘Mummy will get it for you just as soon as—’
‘Now!’
‘Come now, little man,’ said Rosie, gently. ‘Would you like to try our bird’s eggs? They have a candy shell, then chocolate, then inside a little candy bird. What do you think?’
‘Shut up!’ shouted the boy. Rosie smiled apologetically at the queue, who were rolling their eyes, and decided to move back behind the counter pronto, but nobody really liked to buy sweets while someone was screaming, and people quickly grabbed chocolate bars or just left altogether. Finally, Edison popped his head out from behind the counter.
‘That’s Nathan,’ he hissed to Rosie, who was wondering how she could politely order the child’s mother to remove him without sounding like an evil witch.
‘So it appears,’ said Rosie.
‘He’s the mean kid who took my lollipop,’ whispered Edison.
‘Him?’ said Rosie, surprised. ‘That little squirt?’ Edison nodded. He touched her knee, obviously frightened.
‘But he’s pathetic,’ said Rosie. ‘Go take a look at him.’
Edison shook his head frantically. ‘He’s mean.’
‘He’s rubbish,’ said Rosie. ‘Come on, let’s have a look.’
Gently, she coaxed Edison out to the front of the shop, where Nathan was rolling from side to side on the floor, shouting about how it wasn’t fair and he wanted his egg. As soon as Nathan felt them looking at him, he turned. When he saw it was Edison his eyes widened. He clearly became conscious of how he was lying prostrate on the floor. The two boys regarded each other for a long time. Edison pushed his glasses up on his nose.
‘Hello, Nathan,’ he managed eventually, his voice quavering. There was a pause.
‘Is this your sweetshop?’ came the voice from the floor. Rosie nodded her head.
‘Yes,’ said Edison. ‘Kind of.’
Casually, as if it was the sort of thing anyone might do, Nathan picked himself up off the floor.
‘You’ve got a whole sweetshop?’
Edison shrugged. ‘Whatever.’
Rosie looked at him. ‘Did you just say “whatever”?’
Edison got up on tiptoes to whisper in her ear.
‘I don’t know what it means,’ whispered Edison. ‘It’s something you’re meant to say.’
‘OK then,’ Rosie whispered back.
Nathan was now rubbing the back of his shaved head.
‘Iss all right,’ he said.
‘Did you want anything?’ said Rosie, as if she and Edison were equal partners.
Nathan shrugged. ‘Chocolate eggs please.’
Nathan’s mother was practically sobbing with gratitude as she handed over the money.
‘Thank you so much … He’s just tired, aren’t you, Nathan?’ she said, nervously caressing her son’s shoulders.
‘Why not?’
Moray snorted.
‘Would you? Anyway, I believe my sort isn’t exactly welcome over there. No. Seriously, I’d have been rubbish, no help at all. I like my home comforts too much. Just too selfish. Anyway, of course he pulled a classic Stephen, stormed off and I didn’t hear from him … I didn’t even know where he got his injury, I only found that out the other day. I figured he’d been bitten by a stoat or something and was just too embarrassed to tell anyone. Or a tiger.’
‘You don’t get tigers in Africa,’ piped up Edison.
‘And that,’ said Moray, ‘is why I’m better off in Derbyshire.’
They fell quiet for a moment.
‘Well, when you see him …’ said Rosie. Then she couldn’t think what she meant to say. ‘Oh, nothing. Just say hello from me. And that he’s an idiot.’
‘Will do,’ said Moray. ‘Are you coming down later?’
‘Yes, in a bit. Keep some cake for me.’
‘Is that really what you feel like after a morning surrounded by fudge? Cake?’
‘It’s for Lilian,’ said Rosie strictly. ‘Don’t you start. I’ve already had Blaine in here. And Hester the Vegan.’
Moray shuddered. ‘Ugh. Dentist cooties,’ he said, and winked and turned to go.
‘Hi, Edison,’ he said to the small figure crouched behind the counter. ‘How’s the stress constipation?’
‘Much better, thank you,’ said Edison seriously. ‘I think perhaps the yoga is helping after all.’
Rosie looked at Moray.
‘I suspect being here, in an environment where no one makes you do yoga, is helping after all,’ said Moray quietly to Rosie. ‘Good for you.’
Rosie watched him leave, shaking her head in disbelief. The country air had clearly made her gaydar go on the blink. She was pleased too, though kicked herself for feeling that it would have been strange for such a good-looking man to fancy her. It wouldn’t have been strange, she told herself, trying to make herself believe it. She still couldn’t get her head round it; after being in a relationship for eight years, she was single. Single at thirty-one. It was terrifying and upsetting and oddly liberating.
‘I wan egg wi present!’ a child was screeching on the floor, as the mother rotated anxiously, her hands fluttering like butterflies.
‘I’m so sorry,’ said Rosie, for the tenth time. Lilian had very strong views on candy that came with toys and after forcing her to back down on the whole gum issue, Rosie hadn’t pushed it any more than she needed to. ‘We just don’t have any.’
Rosie came out from behind the counter and crouched down beside the child. Behind, a queue was building up. Rosie was used to dealing with children in hospital – scared, in pain – and was good at coaxing. But pointless fury she couldn’t really get a handle on.
‘I want an egg!’
Rosie realised the child wasn’t as small as she had thought before. In fact, he was a big bruiser of a boy, which probably explained why his mum was not exactly rushing to pick him up.
‘Now, Nathan, they don’t have any,’ the mother was saying anxiously. ‘I’m very sorry, I’m sure we can find another place.’
‘Want it now!’
‘Mummy will get it for you just as soon as—’
‘Now!’
‘Come now, little man,’ said Rosie, gently. ‘Would you like to try our bird’s eggs? They have a candy shell, then chocolate, then inside a little candy bird. What do you think?’
‘Shut up!’ shouted the boy. Rosie smiled apologetically at the queue, who were rolling their eyes, and decided to move back behind the counter pronto, but nobody really liked to buy sweets while someone was screaming, and people quickly grabbed chocolate bars or just left altogether. Finally, Edison popped his head out from behind the counter.
‘That’s Nathan,’ he hissed to Rosie, who was wondering how she could politely order the child’s mother to remove him without sounding like an evil witch.
‘So it appears,’ said Rosie.
‘He’s the mean kid who took my lollipop,’ whispered Edison.
‘Him?’ said Rosie, surprised. ‘That little squirt?’ Edison nodded. He touched her knee, obviously frightened.
‘But he’s pathetic,’ said Rosie. ‘Go take a look at him.’
Edison shook his head frantically. ‘He’s mean.’
‘He’s rubbish,’ said Rosie. ‘Come on, let’s have a look.’
Gently, she coaxed Edison out to the front of the shop, where Nathan was rolling from side to side on the floor, shouting about how it wasn’t fair and he wanted his egg. As soon as Nathan felt them looking at him, he turned. When he saw it was Edison his eyes widened. He clearly became conscious of how he was lying prostrate on the floor. The two boys regarded each other for a long time. Edison pushed his glasses up on his nose.
‘Hello, Nathan,’ he managed eventually, his voice quavering. There was a pause.
‘Is this your sweetshop?’ came the voice from the floor. Rosie nodded her head.
‘Yes,’ said Edison. ‘Kind of.’
Casually, as if it was the sort of thing anyone might do, Nathan picked himself up off the floor.
‘You’ve got a whole sweetshop?’
Edison shrugged. ‘Whatever.’
Rosie looked at him. ‘Did you just say “whatever”?’
Edison got up on tiptoes to whisper in her ear.
‘I don’t know what it means,’ whispered Edison. ‘It’s something you’re meant to say.’
‘OK then,’ Rosie whispered back.
Nathan was now rubbing the back of his shaved head.
‘Iss all right,’ he said.
‘Did you want anything?’ said Rosie, as if she and Edison were equal partners.
Nathan shrugged. ‘Chocolate eggs please.’
Nathan’s mother was practically sobbing with gratitude as she handed over the money.
‘Thank you so much … He’s just tired, aren’t you, Nathan?’ she said, nervously caressing her son’s shoulders.
