Chances

Butterflies?

Vines?

Something for the Weekend

‘I remember this shop,’ Oliver told Boz as they drove past That Shop towards the end of that week. ‘Not that I’ve ever been in. But when my wife – but when my late wife and I – used to come into town, she’d always say, I’m just going to pop into That Shop. And ten hours later she’d always bought some tutt or other.’

‘Tutt!’ Boz liked the word. Then he looked worried. ‘The box – thing – I’ve bought Megan, it’s not tutt. It’s nicely made – it’s not cheap. Value, I’d say. She’ll love it.’

Oliver smiled as he scouted for a parking place in the multi-storey. ‘By tutt, I don’t mean the quality, I don’t mean tat – I mean girl stuff. The bits and bobs females never grow too old to fawn over and buy. Yet more photo frames, vases, candles, strange holders for wooden spoons, retro tea towels, bowls that are pretty but shaped too oddly to actually be useful. Heart-shaped stuff. Cushions. Bloody cushions – to be arranged daily, meticulously, on the bed or sofa yet always chucked off.’ He raised an eyebrow at Boz. ‘I’ll stay in the car, thanks.’

‘Might be a trinket that tickles your fancy, boss?’

‘I’ll stay in the car.’

‘I’ll be quick.’

Boz thought, Poor fucker. Boz and the boys always gave each other a look on Oliver’s behalf which said, Poor fucker, whenever he referred to DeeDee as if she was an old pal who had simply moved away from the area temporarily instead of being the victim of a tragic road accident three years previously.

I’ll stay in the car.

I’ll make a couple of calls.

No signal.

I’ll stay in the car.

Christ, this car park is a hellhole.

I’ll listen to the radio.

No signal.

I’ll stay in the car.

Boz won’t be long.

There’s only so much tutt even a young bloke can take, surely.

Vita heard the door open and read fast to just near the end of the page where there was a convenient line-break before she looked up.

‘Ah! I was wondering when you’d be along.’ She presented Boz with the wooden box. ‘I hope you like it. And, of course, your sister Megan.’

Boz was delighted as he inspected it from all angles. ‘It’s cool. It’s very very cool.’

‘I did her name, as you see – but I also added this little design. I was going to do a grapevine but I chose hops. They’re native to Kent, tell her. Which is known as the “Garden of England”, tell her – not that I’ve ever been. Tell her, we make beer from hops.’

Boz looked at her quizzically. He wanted to say, Like we don’t have beer in Oz? But though there was an engaging artlessness to this woman, there was a fragility too – and she was so serious about this box and the extra design – and he thought perhaps a tease might be heard as sarcasm. So he nodded and thanked her. She wrapped it in pretty paper, swathed it in bubble wrap and parcelled it up in heavy-duty brown paper. And then he saw a photo frame. It was in a soft padded faded floral fabric and it reminded him of the dress that Jessie had worn to her sister’s wedding.

‘I’ll have this too,’ he said. ‘It’s for my girlfriend, Jessie.’

‘That’s nice,’ Vita smiled.

‘She’s back home.’

‘You must miss her.’

‘Yeah – but you know what? We’ve been together ages – we’re cool.’

‘I could unwrap this lot, then you could put it inside your sister’s box and tell her to deliver it for you – save on two packages.’

Boz thought this was quite the most brilliant plan and told the lady so as she unwrapped and rewrapped the goods. If he was still in the UK at Christmas-time, he told her, he’d do all his gift shopping right here.

I’ll take some fresh air, I think.

I’ll wander down in the vague direction of That Shop.

Oliver looked at the window display, glanced beyond it, noted the sales assistant sitting on a stool, reading, absent-mindedly tucking her hair behind her ears as it fell forward again and again. Stuff. Everywhere. Tables and shelves of stuff.

Oh God, DeeDee, he would groan when they used to meet back at the car after one of her forays. Not more stuff.

But I love That Shop, she’d protest with a pout that turned into a smile. And Oliver would unlock the car and say, Get in, Mrs Bourne, we’re going home.

He wasn’t about to break the habit of a lifetime ago, today. But he did pop his head around the corner of the door and immediately felt he should raise his voice a little – as if the colliding fragrances from all the candles and soaps were a sound as much as a scent.

‘Come on, Boz. Back to work.’

‘Scented drawer liners for you, boss?’ said Boz, holding up a pack.

Oliver laughed. The sales assistant looked up momentarily before returning her attention to her book.

* * *

‘You are coming to a party!’ Michelle breezed into the shop, moments later, fresh from the hairdresser; her chestnut hair glossy and well cut, her eyes glinting at Vita who looked up from her book, a little confused.

‘Am I?’ She wracked her memory but could only conjure an image of all the empty boxes for June on the calendar on the back of the kitchen door at Pear Tree Cottage.

‘You are coming to a party,’ Michelle said again, this time in a fairy-godmother tone as if telling Vita, You shall go to the ball. ‘It’s on Saturday. You remember Mel and Des? It’s their party – they’re having it at the George and Dragon. They said to invite you. They said they haven’t seen you for ages. They said for me to tell you that there are a couple of other single women going.’

Vita was just about to dwell on this fact being an anathema to someone who’d so liked being half of a couple when Michelle told her to hurry up, grab her bag and put the Back After Lunch sign up in the shop door.

‘My treat,’ said Michelle, linking arms with Vita and heading off towards the brasserie.

‘Two for One,’ Vita read the offer emblazoned over the lunchtime menu. ‘Cheapskate!’

‘Shut up and eat,’ said Michelle. ‘You look like you’ve lost half a stone since I saw you last – and that’s not a compliment.’ She pushed the bread basket towards Vita and poured a little olive oil into a saucer. ‘It’s quiet in here, isn’t it? The weather’s glorious, there’s no World Cup or Olympics – where is everyone?’

‘I ask myself the same question,’ Vita said. ‘The shop’s been dead today.’