Daisy's Christmas Gift Shop

by Hannah Pearl

  ‘It might not be quite what you’re expecting,’ I warned her. I explained a little more about the products that Lily specialised in selling. Cody giggled and kept on walking, but I noticed that she held on just a little tighter.

  When we got there, Cody seemed excited to go into Lily’s shop and it was me taking an extra moment first to pull myself together. Usually I peeked through the grill on the door to make sure that there was no one inside that I knew before I went in. I’d made that mistake before when I burst in only to come face to face with my dentist. I’d had to find a new one after that. Not that going to Lily’s shop was a bad thing, but I’d seen what he was buying and found it hard not to giggle through my next check-up.

  Lily didn’t need asking twice when she saw us. She yelled to an unseen person behind a black curtain that she was taking her break, grabbed her handbag from the drawer and followed us outside.

  I slept better that night, with a belly full of food and having had the company of friends. Waking up, I felt more positive. Even when I went to the loo and found that I’d got my period, I was able to spend ten seconds feeling relieved that the condoms had worked before I groaned and wrote the rest of the day off to a fog of paracetamol and hot water bottles.

  Over the next few days Dad sent me a series of photographs. He wrote a brief note on the last one, that it had been a quieter holiday than he had expected, especially with Eli for company. It was off season in the town they were staying in, and having spent some time wandering around the various sites, he’d grown bored until Eli had signed him up for a cookery class in the hotel kitchen.

  Ben sent me a photo of himself in the sea. I could see goosebumps all over his torso, but as he was temporarily away from any electronic devices, I figured that the holiday was doing a good job of drawing him out of his shell too. I didn’t hear a word from Eli.

  When the same silver car pulled up outside the house the following Saturday to drop them home, I was still staring at my phone waiting for a text to say that they’d landed.

  ‘You could have just checked on the airport website,’ Ben scolded me when I told him off. He scowled some more when I hugged him and I wondered if he was just acting like a teenager, when I noticed that he seemed to be particularly guarding his right shoulder. He picked up his bag and let himself into the house.

  Eli climbed out of the car in one fluid movement, pulled himself up to his full height, glanced round to make sure that Ben was safely inside before dropping a quick kiss on my lips and following him in. ‘Where’s my dad?’ I shouted. Chasing after to get an answer, I found them stood in the kitchen. Ben was pouring himself a glass of juice and Eli had the kettle boiling. ‘Thanks for getting the groceries Daisy,’ I muttered.

  ‘Thanks Dais,’ Eli said, spotting the loaf of fresh bread that I’d bought the day before and raiding the fridge to make himself and Ben some sandwiches. ‘They didn’t feed us on the plane. I’ve been gasping for a decent cuppa.’

  ‘Tell me you didn’t eat my dad,’ I said, handing Eli some cheese so that he could make my sandwich too. Ben shot me a look.

  ‘I signed your dad up for some classes at the hotel,’ Eli said, ignoring my brother.

  ‘He e-mailed me. I think he was enjoying cooking again.’

  ‘Did he tell you that he got chatting with the manager and they asked him to stay another week to run some baking sessions for a coach load of pensioners? Their regular teacher is having a baby and the chef had the … wrong temperament for teaching those who were a little slower at picking up new techniques,’ Eli explained. Clearly Dad had left some fairly pertinent information out of his messages. ‘He’ll be back in time for Christmas so he knew you wouldn’t mind.’

  And I didn’t, but I was surprised, though happy for my dad that he had found something to keep him busy. It would be good for him. Despite my confusion over our personal relationship, I was grateful for how well Eli was looking out for my family, so I took the plate he offered me and hugged him again to say thank you. It seemed like he held on for a few seconds longer than he needed to, but it was hard to tell for sure. It might have been wishful thinking on my part. I hugged Ben again too, but this time he squawked when I touched his arm. I definitely wasn’t imagining that. I ordered him to take his jacket off, which he did. Then his jumper. Again, he complied. When I told him to roll his sleeve up though he reverted to petulant teenager mode again and wouldn’t make eye contact with me.

  ‘Ben,’ I ordered. He stood up, glared at me and lifted his T-shirt over his head. There on his right bicep was a tattoo.

  ‘Don’t blame me,’ Eli said, raising his hands in a gesture of mock retreat. ‘He did this by himself.’

  ‘And I like it,’ Ben said.

  I stepped closer and took another look. ‘What is it?’ I asked, staring at the circles and lines. ‘Did you get a tattoo of computer wires? And have you been working out?’

  Chapter Twelve

  Ben began to unpack after lunch and set the washing machine off on what would be the first of many loads. The one advantage of having such an orderly mind was that he was able to take care of cleaning up after himself at least. Eli said that he had better go home and do the same, so I followed him down as I had a customer due soon. At the front door, Eli turned and called out to Ben that he’d be over again that evening. Ben was upset that we’d not been more enthusiastic about his tattoo and didn’t reply.

  ‘Will I see you later too?’ he asked me.

  I thought about what Ben had said about Eli’s plans for the trip, of drinking and picking up women. Then I looked at him. The skin around his eyes was line free and he was clean shaven. The holiday had been good for him, and it hurt to think what he might have been up to that had him smiling again. His fingers reached out and stroked a gentle trail up and down my arm. Then I remembered that I still had my period and felt achey and bloated. ‘I can’t sleep with you,’ I blurted out. His eyes hardened, and he stepped back. ‘I mean …’

  ‘I think I understood what you meant,’ he said, turning and walking away.

  ‘Eli!’ I called, but it was no use. He didn’t stop, and my client strolled around the corner, heading for my shop, so I had to watch as he left me, yet again. Part of me wanted to run after him, and part of me was angry that he could walk away so easily. But then, whatever the connection was between us, it was so undefined that even if I’d caught up to him, I had no idea what I’d say.

  I couldn’t clear my head even when dealing with my customers. Trying to persuade an eighty-year-old man that whilst his wife might like naughty lingerie, she would probably also appreciate a warm dressing-gown to go over the top was little distraction. After he left with a robe from my shop and directions to Lily’s, I locked the door, poured myself a glass of cold white wine and went upstairs to talk to Ben.

  He’d finished with the laundry and had started giving the flat a good clean, pausing only to glance at his phone whenever he thought that I wasn’t watching. It was odd. Ben didn’t usually seem so keen to hear from anyone except a contact who hooked him up occasionally with new computer games, but he didn’t tell me who it was he was hoping to hear from so I didn’t ask I left him up to his elbows in suds and began to fix us some dinner. I craved comfort food, so made bangers and mash. Veggie sausages for me and meaty ones for Ben. The potatoes were bubbling away whilst I set the table. Mum and Dad had been given a set of fine, white china plates when they’d got married. When we were little Ben and I had broken so many that Mum had invested in a set of sturdy, blue-rimmed thick crockery, but today I wanted to make an effort so I used the good china. It was a nice way to feel closer to her and I needed it right then.

  Fetching the rest of the wine from my flat, I poured us each out a glass and began to steam some broccoli. Ben finished vacuuming the living room just as I set the dish of sausages on the table. It felt lonely, just the two of us there without our dad, but then some days even with three of us you could feel the gap where Mum should have been. I asked
Ben about his holiday, hoping that he would tell me what Eli had been up to and not wanting to know at the same time, just in case he had hooked up with someone and I ended up crying into my mashed potato.

  I didn’t want to let Eli get to me, but it was hard not to. I had thought that my crush on him was a thing of the past, until it was centre and present in my bedroom again just a week earlier. Ben didn’t notice my inner turmoil. Even if I’d pointed out to him that I was stressed about something he wouldn’t have known what to do or say, so I listened instead as he told me how much Dad had enjoyed being bumped up to first class on the flight. Eli had kept to his word, and he and Ben had flown in economy, so I didn’t feel too guilty about their subterfuge. Ben promised me that he had checked before he made the switch and there had been plenty of empty seats. He was a little put out that Eli had stopped him upgrading them both too.

  Seeing Dad’s face when they disembarked and he told them about the free champagne had calmed Ben down. He was as relieved as I was anytime we saw that Dad could be happy still. Now that he was safely home, Ben was trying to put the trauma of a week of virtually non-existent wi-fi behind him but clearly his idea of a holiday and Eli’s had been a little different.

  He helped himself to another huge spoonful of potato, and was smothering it in gravy when the doorbell rang. ‘That’ll be Eli,’ he said, making no move to get up. ‘He said he’d be back around tea time.’

  ‘Nice of you to let me know’ I muttered, pushing my chair back and going to let him in. I knew that any subtlety of statement would be lost on Ben, and sure enough when Eli and I made it back upstairs, having not said a word to each other on the way up, Ben greeted him with a complicated handshake and stood to fetch him a plate.

  ‘There was supposed to be enough for you to have for lunch tomorrow,’ I told my brother but he shrugged and said that he’d just have a sandwich. Eli noticed my displeasure, but just grinned at me and tucked into the food.

  ‘You’d have loved the beaches, Dais,’ Ben said, as he handed Eli the last of the wine I’d bought. ‘The water was so clear, freezing cold though.’

  ‘The locals thought this one was crazy,’ Eli said, gesturing at my brother. ‘No one else was on the beach, let alone in the water. We’ll have to go back again when it’s warmer.’

  ‘I couldn’t help it,’ Ben said. ‘I’ve never seen a shade of blue like it. I had to go in.’

  ‘What did Dad make of the trip?’ I asked, aware that he must have enjoyed it more than I’d ever have predicted given that he had actually stayed on voluntarily.

  ‘He was pretty quiet the first few days,’ Eli admitted. ‘I was starting to get a bit nervous that I’d pushed him into coming, but the fresh air and good, local food seemed to help. He found a few dishes that he liked and got chatting to the chef. I’d seen the cookery classes advertised in the lobby, so I signed him up.’

  ‘He’d been a bit moany on our trips, to be honest,’ Ben said.

  ‘So had you,’ Eli added. ‘I quote, “why would I want to go and look at old temples when I can just type it into Google and see pictures from here?”’

  ‘I would have been able to if they’d had fibre installed. Honestly, I was just lucky that they weren’t still using dial-up.’ Some days I wondered how my brother would have managed if he’d been born before the internet existed. He’d probably have become fixated on steam trains instead.

  ‘And the nightlife?’ I asked, unable to help myself even as I dreaded hearing the answer.

  ‘The bars were pretty cool,’ Ben answered.

  ‘You’re just saying that because they were half empty so they weren’t too loud for you, and because we didn’t know anyone there so it didn’t matter if all your drinks were served with more fruit decorations than actual alcohol,’ Eli reminded him. Ben smiled at the memories.

  ‘So it wasn’t the heaving masses that you were hoping for?’ I asked, relieved at the thought that they hadn’t been stumbling around drunk surrounded by bikini-clad babes for the entire trip.

  ‘We found a few places that were okay,’ Eli said. ‘The bar by the seafront was nice. Mostly locals, but they were happy to have some company during their quiet season.’

  ‘Plus the hot girl behind the bar totally had her eye on you,’ Ben said. He reached over to high five Eli again, but I pushed my chair away from the table and barged him out of the way so that I could drop my empty plate into the sink.

  ‘Your turn to wash up,’ I told them. Eli smirked when he saw my reaction, so I accidentally trod on his toes as I reached across the table. I opened a second bottle of wine from my dad’s stash and filled my glass to the top.

  ‘Have you had a good week?’ Eli asked. ‘Busy selling more soppy presents and frilly pants to old men?’

  I glared at him, and Ben began to glance nervously between us. Without my dad there to referee, the tension quickly rose. We had sniped at each other over the years but Ben hated loud voices and so we’d generally kept it to a level of using angry words rather than high volume. Now though I was really cross. I’d waited for a week to find out whether our night together had meant anything to Eli and he seemed to be enjoying making me squirm. ‘You mean, did I help people find meaningful gifts for their loved ones, yes I did. And now I have a well-earned day off tomorrow, followed by a busy day on Monday going to pick up some more supplies.’

  ‘Are you out of pink soap? Can’t you just go to the supermarket then come home and write new labels for twice the price?’

  ‘Stop,’ Ben begged, but it was too late. I was fuming. Eli owed me answers but instead he was lashing out, rehashing arguments that we’d had a hundred times before, only this time I didn’t hold back.

  ‘You’re just jealous because you can’t form a deep enough emotional bond to want to buy a girl something thoughtful,’ I spat back. Ben lifted his hands to cover his ears. I knew that I should stop shouting and yet I didn’t. ‘You’re upsetting my brother,’ I yelled. ‘Why did you even come over again?’

  ‘Because he asked me to,’ Eli responded, standing up and leaning forward until we were nose to nose over the table.

  ‘I wish you’d both just stayed away, you’re supposed to care about me, but you’re shouting. You know I hate shouting. It makes my ears hurt and my tummy ache. Why can’t you ever just talk to each other like friends are supposed to? I hate that you can’t be in the same room without being mean,’ Ben shouted, picking his plate up and dropping into the sink hard enough that it landed on top of mine and smashed. ‘Now look what’s happened. This was supposed to be my safe space. This was where I could come when everything out there was too much. Where am I supposed to go now?’ He turned and ran from the room. A moment later the front door slammed shut.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Eli and I continued to stare at each other until eventually I folded. ‘I’m going to look for Ben.’ I headed down to my flat where I wrapped up as quickly as I could in hat and scarf and gloves before slamming my own door behind me. My mobile rang as I trudged down the road towards the station. Taking it from my pocket, I read Taylor’s name on the display. I slipped a glove off so that I could use my finger to swipe the screen, cursing as I did so at how quickly my hand felt frozen.

  ‘Hi,’ I said, as I began to run down the stairs to the underground. ‘I’ve been meaning to call.’ And I had, I just hadn’t worked out what to say and so I’d been avoiding ringing him. ‘This isn’t a great time but I meant to say thank you for the emails.’ There was no reason to take my current foul mood out on Taylor, though having a normal conversation felt alien when all I could think about was Ben.

  Taylor didn’t reply, and I glanced at the display. Out of signal. We’d been cut off. I’d reached the barrier and had to decide whether to go back up the street to call Taylor again, or continue to search for Ben. Apologising to Taylor out loud, though he wouldn't hear it, I slipped my phone back into my pocket and touched my card to the sensor to get through the gates.

  Running to
catch the tube as it pulled into the station, I stood with my nose in the armpit of a tourist who had evidently wrapped up too well for the weather and was now rather unpleasantly fragrant. I cursed my haste, thinking that I could have walked to most destinations within zone one almost as quickly if I had only thought my plans through. Still, when the tube pulled into Leicester Square station, I found myself climbing onto a second train to complete my journey. If Ben was looking for a safe space then all I could think to do was try the places that he visited most often.

  At Covent Garden, the hordes exited the train, and I was swept along with them. The queues for the lifts were a good ten metres deep, so this time I decided to eschew technology and headed for the stairs. One hundred and ninety-three steps later I was cursing myself for making the wrong decision at every opportunity.

  I’d barely got my breath back as I skirted the cobblestones around the market, making my way for the pub that Eli and Ben often visited after work. It was busy, and I fought my way to the bar. I asked the pierced and tattooed leather-clad man behind the counter if he had seen Ben. He stopped serving for long enough to give me a look that spoke of my stupidity for asking if he knew any customer by name. I ordered a drink that I didn’t really want in case that made him more willing to talk, but instead it served to further piss him off as it gave him more work to do. I offered to buy him a drink and tried flashing the photo that Dad had e-mailed me the day before of Ben by the pool, and finally he took a brief look before walking away without another word to sell overpriced soft drinks to a dad of two screaming toddlers. I couldn’t blame him, I wanted the crying to stop too. Probably not as much as the parents did though. I hoped that they didn’t feel judged by the grimaces around them. The kids’ volume was admittedly impressive, but they were just giving the service in the pub the feedback it deserved.

  I left my glass, still half full on the counter and walked back out into the darkness. The snow began to fall, and I dug my woolly hat out of my pocket and jammed it on over my head. By the time I reached the next pub on my list, my ears were cold anyway. The skinny guy in drain-pipe jeans, slung low enough to show off the top of his grey boxer shorts, glanced at my phone as he handed me a bottle of Appletiser. ‘This one I remember,’ he said, winking at me as he tapped Eli’s picture. ‘He’s cute. Him,’ he gestured at Ben, ‘not so much. Don’t think they’ve been in recently.’