‘Are you ready with it yet?’ Riley asked. ‘I’m dying to see it.’
‘Just give me a couple more minutes.’ Ethan’s phone beeped. He picked it up, read the message with a frown and pocketed his phone again.
‘Everything okay?’ Riley asked, noticing his expression.
‘Hmm?’ He looked distracted for a moment, but then his face lit up with a smile. ‘Yes, everything’s fine.’ He swivelled his laptop round to face her. ‘Are you ready?’
‘Hit it.’
Ethan pulled her onto his knee. Riley covered her eyes, leaving gaps between her fingers as he pressed play. The music filled the room and she watched the dancers, group by group, move into the middle of the High Street. She dropped her hands as she became enthralled.
‘Ethan, it’s incredible!’ She hugged him as they continued to watch. ‘You’re so good at your job.’
‘Wait until you see the stills I’ve taken from it,’ he replied, a tinge of red appearing on his cheeks. ‘You’ll have some fantastic photos to share on social media to keep the competition going.’
‘Brilliant!’ Almost holding her breath, she waited to see herself on the screen. But as she caught the familiar beat, she looked away.
‘I can’t watch!’ she said, laughing.
‘You have to!’
Riley shrieked when she saw the four of them coming into shot with their partners. Jimmy, who had been around her feet ever since the food had been dished out, ran from the room before creeping slowly back in again.
‘We look great!’ She pointed to the screen as she waltzed around with Ryan.
‘For ten seconds at least,’ Ethan teased. He pressed a few keys on the laptop, bringing the image into focus a little more, and then nodded. ‘That’s better.’
The video continued. As all four of them arched over, one after the other, in a row in front of the camera, the words on the cards came into view.
‘It looks like I can actually dance!’ Riley said.
Finally, the pièce de résistance, Esther, pirouetted in front of all of them. Once she had finished, she held up her card with the competition hashtag on it.
The applause when the music finished was deafening. Riley clapped too – she couldn’t help herself.
‘It’s really good,’ she told him. ‘I can’t thank you enough.’
Ethan pressed a few more keys. ‘If you’re happy with it, I can send it to the paper. What do you think?’
‘Do it!’ Riley got out her phone and began to text Dan and Sadie. ‘I’ll have to send the link to Suzanne, too. She’s probably going to go nuts.’
Ethan took the phone from her. ‘Let’s eat first, before I send the email and you get in touch with people. I’m starving.’
Riley grabbed the plates and took them over to the table. They chatted about the best bits over dinner. She knew everyone involved was going to be pleased, which meant they would all share it on social media. Since the competition had started, they’d gained a lot more followers on Twitter and Facebook, so perhaps they could even get it trending for a while. If it was picked up and retweeted, they might get a few more competition entries. And if it wasn’t, she would share it more herself over the next few days. Despite the grilling she would likely get from Suzanne, Riley wanted everyone in Hedworth to be talking about Chandler’s.
Sadie woke up with a start and sat up in bed, tears pouring down her cheeks. Some days she’d cry several times, the slightest thing setting her off. Others she didn’t cry at all. She hoped this wasn’t the start of a bad run.
She lay back down, glancing at the clock illuminating the time. It was five past three in the morning. She could almost guarantee that she wouldn’t get back to sleep again now.
The dream she’d been having was so vivid that it made her even more upset to find that Ross wasn’t lying beside her when she woke. She ran a hand over his side of the bed, pulling herself over to it and curling up in the space that used to belong to him.
This had all come about because she had enjoyed the flash mob. It reminded her just how much she had wanted to share it with Ross. He would have been so proud of her and Esther for strutting their stuff, learning the dance by heart and then being on a video that might be shared far more than any of them had anticipated. There were so many competition entries, and she had wanted to come home and show Ross, flick through some of the photos, show him her favourite so far.
Dreaming about Ross made it all real again. It was as if she was going to wake up to find him lying next to her. ‘I’m right here,’ he’d say and pull her into his arms, rocking her to sleep again.
In some ways, he was still here with her. She felt his presence throughout the house, and whenever Esther smiled. Every time she looked at things, he was there. She wanted to be reminded of him but also wanted to forget the pain. The loneliness. The guilt.
Ross had been in the hospital, and the hospice, for the last few weeks of his life. At times it had been so hard to come to terms with his pain, his deterioration, his end-of-life care. All the staff had been so good to them, yet she still felt guilty. She remembered all the times she had moaned when she’d got to his ward after being stuck in traffic, complaining about how long it had taken her to get there, how long it had taken her to park, only to moan more when it was time to go home because she couldn’t bear to leave him there.
Every time she’d left, she’d convinced herself that it would be the last time she would ever see him. That she wouldn’t be with him when he died, not able to say goodbye before he left them for good. She’d heard people say that they knew when someone was passing away, but surely that was because they could see the rapid deterioration over hours and days rather than weeks and months. Sadie had borne Ross’s pain and her own. She’d had to deal with the idea of being left a widow at thirty-five, with a five-year-old daughter who wouldn’t understand that Daddy would be leaving them soon and she would never see him again.
Sadie cried as she recalled the moment they had been told that the cancer was terminal, and that Ross had less than three months to live. He’d run from the consultant’s room, unable to deal with the news. They’d eventually found him in the children’s play area, sitting with his back against the wall, tears pouring down his face. She’d tried to put her arms around him but he had pushed her away. He said she needed to leave him there. The consultant had sat down too, and they had both spent twenty minutes talking to him, trying to reassure him that every day was worth fighting for.
He’d died exactly three months later. His body had deteriorated to such a point that there wasn’t much left but skin and bone, but at least they had been given sufficient warning so Sadie and the rest of his family could be there when he died. Esther had sat on Sadie’s knee as she’d held on to his hand, not wanting to let it go. Christine and Paul had been there too, sitting on the other side of the bed. Sadie had felt their loss, as their only child slipped away. No parent should see their child die. It just didn’t seem right.
The days between then and the funeral were like being in limbo for her. She had wanted to scream at the injustice of someone so young being taken away; yet she also wanted to celebrate Ross’s life and wear a brave face for Esther.
Once the first tears had dried, Sadie functioned as best she could. It was then that Esther developed a habit of talking to the urn, as if Ross was magically inside it and would one day come out like a genie from a lamp if she rubbed hard enough.
Grief. It affected everyone differently, and for different lengths of time. Sadie was dreading the first anniversary of Ross’s death. It was seven weeks away now, and bearing down on her. No matter what, she had to stay focused on Esther. She needed to be a happy mummy, not a sad one.
She wiped the tears from her face and got up. Even though it was early she would face the day, when it came, with a smile. For Esther’s sake, she would keep her grief hidden. The nights were for crying, remembering, hating, longing, raging.
Downstairs, Sadie made coffee and
stared at a pile of ironing that she hadn’t managed to get to during the week. Turning her back on it, she got out her journal. She wasn’t supposed to be awake now so she would make this time her own. And it might do her good again to empty her mind of all the thoughts running around in it.
I remember everything so plainly, Ross, even though it has been ten months, one week and two days since you left me. I can remember the pain and the suffering that you went through, so dignified, just to stay with me and Esther for as long as you could.
I don’t blame you for leaving us. I just regret that it was so soon. You were in so much pain, coughing up all that vile black stuff, losing weight, you were like a bag of bones at the end. Yet you always kept your sense of humour. I loved that about you, Ross. You were my rock, you always will be my rock, even though you are no longer around. I will never replace you, ever.
Sadie put down her pen as she struggled to see through her tears. She really didn’t know what she would do without her writing. At first she had done it to keep a record for Esther when she was older, writing down memories that they both might look back on in later years. But then the journal had taken on a life of its own. Writing about Ross, what he meant to her, had given her great comfort. She’d been able to write out all the things she couldn’t begin to tell people, personal thoughts and feelings. Maybe they’d be too raw to show Esther, even when she was grown up, but until Sadie decided otherwise the journal was staying. For now, it was her secret. It wasn’t meant to do anything but be a place to let go of her emotions and enable her to pack them away until a time when she felt she could deal with them.
Even though it hurt now, she’d been blessed to have fifteen years with Ross before he died. Five of those had been shared with Esther. Four and a half of those years had been the best of her life.
At least she had that to be thankful for.
Chapter Eighteen
The first hour until midday after Chandler’s opened the following morning was spent dealing with a flurry of people coming into the shop to join in with the competition, and lots of photos being tweeted. Overnight, the campaign hadn’t fizzled away as Riley had anticipated. The video had been viewed more than 8,000 times and she’d had to switch her phone to silent, as so many notifications were coming through that it had sounded like a heart monitor.
The experience had given her a great boost and a feeling of achievement. But she was also filled with trepidation wondering how Suzanne would react to the email she’d sent the night before.
‘I can’t believe it’s gone so mad,’ said Dan, as he walked back to the till after selling another pair of sandals to a student. The shop was finally empty, except for a woman and her son who’d just come in for a browse. ‘Look at this photo for the competition!’ Dan said, gaping at his phone. ‘Neither of you would be able to walk in them. Do you think they are real?’
‘Let me see,’ said Riley.
Dan was looking at a pair of pillar-box red shoes shown in a photo on the Twitter feed for Chandler’s Shoes. Their heels were metal and shaped like the barrel of a hand gun.
‘I doubt they’ll ever have been walked in,’ said Riley. ‘I bet they’re car to pub shoes.’
‘Car to pub shoes?’
‘Gorgeous to look at and be seen in but excruciating to walk in, so they are only viable if you are going from the car to the pub with no long walk to a venue.’
Their smiles dropped when Suzanne came into the shop. She marched up to them, her mobile phone in her hand.
‘My phone has been going mad since last night, everyone congratulating me on the YouTube video.’
‘Oh, that’s great news!’ said Riley, without thinking.
‘Is it?’ Suzanne all but snorted. ‘I had to pretend and go along with it all until you sent me the link. Why wasn’t I informed before this happened?’
‘I thought it wouldn’t be a problem,’ fibbed Riley. ‘And, as you gave us free rein to get people into the shop for our competition, it also gave me the idea of running another one and getting the general public involved too.’
Suzanne glared at her. ‘It was done on my time.’
‘It was only a few minutes and we were working.’
‘You shouldn’t have uploaded it to YouTube without my permission.’
Riley dropped her eyes to the floor for a moment. The reason she hadn’t asked for permission was because she knew she wouldn’t like the answer.
‘Have you any idea how much publicity the video has brought to the shop already?’ interrupted Dan.
‘Suzanne’s right, Dan,’ said Riley. ‘I should have asked.’
Dan stared at Riley. ‘Show her.’
‘Show me what?’ Suzanne folded her arms.
‘How many hits the video has had.’ Dan used his fingers to count. ‘How many people are joining in with the competition on social media. How many people are talking about Chandler’s Shoe Shop because of it. It was a genius idea.’
‘It’s had thousands of views,’ Sadie joined in. ‘You couldn’t get more publicity than that. And the competition is really gathering momentum.’
‘Thousands of people looking at it, you say?’ Suzanne paused long enough for them all to think she was coming round. ‘And how many sales have you had since? I wasn’t exactly beating customers out of my way to get through the doors just now.’
‘We’ve been really busy since we opened at eleven,’ said Riley. ‘It’s only just gone quiet.’
‘You should have seen it yesterday,’ added Dan. ‘We sold loads of stock.’
‘Stock, as in those sandals I saw in the window?’ She pointed at Riley. ‘The ones I told you were too tacky for Chandler’s?’
‘I know you said not to order any in, but I thought I’d try a few pairs. The local students love them!’ Riley defended her choice. ‘I can’t believe how many we’ve sold, actually.’
‘And the bags,’ added Sadie.
‘It’s all well and good having one busy day,’ Suzanne huffed. ‘I want the people in the shop all the time.’
‘If we had a website, more people could have been looking at that, maybe buying something online,’ said Riley.
Suzanne rolled her eyes. ‘We do not have a website and we are not getting one. Websites are expensive, and I― I mean, Max and I don’t want to spend another penny on the shop if it isn’t making money.’
‘But we are making money!’
‘Riley.’ Suzanne pinched the bridge of her nose. ‘You’ve gone way above your station with this. I told you not to order those shoes. And those bags in the window? Remove them. This is a shoe shop, not a bag stall at a market.’
Suzanne flounced past them and down into the staffroom.
‘Well, that went as anticipated,’ Dan muttered.
But Riley hadn’t finished yet. She went after her.
‘Suzanne! Wait.’
Suzanne was at the bottom of the stairs by the time Riley caught up. She sighed loudly. ‘What do you want now, Riley?’
‘I’m sorry if you don’t approve of what we did, but it was all well-intentioned,’ Riley explained. ‘We thought if we did something different, bought in some new stock, then we might get some attention. The competition has had over five hundred entries so far. Everyone is adding photos of shoes to Twitter, which means that everyone is talking about Chandler’s.’
Suzanne stood quietly, so Riley continued.
‘How many of them had heard of Chandler’s last week? And how many people have heard of us now?’
‘How many of them are actually shopping and making me money?’ questioned Suzanne.
Riley said nothing. The flash mob would certainly be getting Chandler’s name out there, and the summer sandals had helped with sales for now. But unless they could keep it that way, it would all be a waste of time.
But Riley wasn’t done trying yet. ‘I’m sure it will make a difference,’ she reiterated.
Suzanne paused for a moment before nodding her agreement. ‘But if anything
goes wrong, it’s on your head.’
Riley went home from work that afternoon with a huge grin on her face. Despite her run-in with Suzanne, they seemed to have pulled off the flash mob. As soon as she got back to her flat she checked Twitter to see what was going on and sat down with a bump. There were hundreds more tweets with the hashtag #ShoeLove. It seemed to be catching on.
Riley scrolled through some of the photos, stopping to like her favourite ones. There were some fabulous designs. There were some funny photos. There were messages from a few trolls who had joined in to spoil the fun, but she didn’t take them to heart. She blocked a few of the more offensive ones. Honestly, why couldn’t people get a life!
She sent text messages to Dan and Sadie before calling Ethan. She was meeting him later for something to eat. Sadie had gone to her in-laws, as they were looking after Esther.
‘It’s definitely working on Twitter,’ she told Ethan, excitedly.
‘I had no doubts it wouldn’t. Did you?’
‘Of course I did.’
‘O ye of little faith. When I get to work in the morning, I’ll check the stats on the paper’s website again. The feature will be in tomorrow evening’s print edition, too.’
‘Brilliant. I can―’ She heard traffic noise. ‘Sorry, you’re not driving, are you?’
‘No, I’m out with Jimmy. I’m just heading back home now. I might have a surprise for you. Pick you up in an hour?’
By the time Ethan called for her, Riley was dying to know what he was up to. The tweets had started to die down, although she was still getting the occasional one, and she showed him a few before they headed off.
The Second Chance Shoe Shop Page 14
