Miss Moonshine's Emporium of Happy Endings: A feel-good collection of heartwarming stories

by Helena Fairfax

  Mandy’s eyes widened, the effect exaggerated by her false lashes. ‘But you said yes! You’re wearing his ring.’

  ‘What else could I do? They were filming it.’

  Mandy blinked.

  ‘But I don’t feel ready. I’m too young.’ It was a relief to say it out loud. She was lucky that the three of them could talk about anything. They’d always been close. Family was everything.

  ‘You’re twenty-five. Why is that too young?’

  ‘Mands, can you make us some herbal tea?’ Mum took Lola’s hand. Her touch was warm and it calmed her a little.

  Her sister went to fill the kettle.

  ‘I was twenty-five when I had you,’ Mum said gently.

  ‘I know, but…’ She tried again to picture herself married to Greg: standing beside his canal boat, smiling for the camera, his muscular arms wrapped around her. But each time the image vanished, as if someone had erased it.

  ‘When are you going to speak to him?’ asked Mum.

  Lola looked up at the clock on the wall. ‘I don’t know. His shift has started now. It’ll have to be tomorrow.’

  ‘You two are perfect together.’ Mandy planted two mugs of chamomile tea in front of them. ‘You all small and blonde, and him all hunky and hard-looking.’

  Was that a wistful edge to her sister’s voice? Lola’s eyes narrowed. ‘We’re not perfect. I don’t feel like I know him all that well, even after a year.’ Their days off rarely coincided, and when they did he preferred to spend time in The Packhorse with his mates. Lola went along when she could, but it wasn’t the same as being alone together. ‘And he can’t know me very well. I mean, look at this ring.’ She yanked it off her finger and held it up. ‘He’s seen the jewellery I make. This is so – so…’

  Supersave had strict rules about jewellery, but her fingers were usually decorated with big, bright rings. Her work had an exotic feel, with geometric patterns and bold colours: it was different, unusual. Whereas this diamond was conventional. Bland. ‘…it’s just not me.’

  The kitchen became quiet. The only sound was the thump of the boiler and the heating clicking on for the evening.

  Mum watched her with concern. ‘So you’re not happy with him?’

  Lola thought about this. Mandy wasn’t the only one who thought Greg was hot. He’d arrived here on his narrowboat three years ago, so he still had the exotic allure of a newcomer, plus he was a bit older, and his solid physique complemented his softly spoken manner. He held doors open for Lola, he insisted on walking her home after dark, and sex with him – well, it made up for any flaws in their relationship.

  ‘I’m not unhappy,’ she said finally. ‘It’s just… I don’t want to marry him. I’m not sure I want to get married at all. I mean, you managed fine on your own, Mum.’

  The cat flap squeaked and Elton appeared. His black fur glistened, and he left a trail of wet paw prints on the tiles as he hurried through into the house.

  ‘It’s a lot easier with a partner, Lo.’

  The bleak look in her mother’s eyes made Lola want to bite back her words. She knew it had been hard for Mum when their dad had died. ‘But you loved Dad. You always say he was your soulmate. Greg isn’t mine.’

  Mum and Mandy exchanged a look.

  ‘And I can’t believe this is it. That I’m going to get married now and never –’

  ‘Never what?’

  Lola looked up at the naked bulb hanging from the ceiling and tried to find the words to articulate this feeling, this fear that had been eating at her ever since Greg had got down on one knee. There must be more, surely? ‘I just hoped I’d achieve…more. Be someone.’

  ‘Be someone?’ Mum’s eyes narrowed. ‘Don’t go getting fancy ideas like the contestants on those television talent shows. All dreaming of record deals and hoping to become overnight stars.’

  Lola realised too late that she’d touched a nerve. Everyone knew Mum was bitter because of her own experience. ‘I don’t mean I want to be a celebrity.’

  ‘What, then?’

  ‘I… I’m not sure.’

  ‘Dreams don’t keep a roof over your head,’ Mum continued. ‘In the real world there are bills to be paid, and there’s no fairy godmother or Simon Cowell going to do that for you.’

  Lola fiddled with a loose thread dangling from the hem of her tunic. She pulled at it and wound it around her finger. ‘I know.’

  Mum was right. She had to be practical. Realistic. And she was, normally.

  ‘I know Greg isn’t rolling in it, but two incomes are better than one,’ said Mum.

  ‘I like Greg.’ Mandy winked. ‘And you’ve always said he’s good in the sack.’

  Lola forced a smile.

  ‘Why don’t you sleep on it?’ said Mum. ‘You don’t need to make a decision today.’

  ‘What if he’s the only man who ever asks you?’ said Mandy.

  Lola shrugged.

  ‘Think about it, love,’ said Mum, ‘but watch you don’t get carried away, wishing for the impossible, setting your sights too high. He might not be perfect, but then none of us are.’

  *

  Her mum’s warning hung over Lola like hill fog as, next day, she trailed into town. Was she wishing for the impossible? She should know better. Take the travel magazines and Pinterest boards she liked to pore over, for example. She was drawn to the pictures of deserted beaches and mountain trails, but she knew she’d never be able to afford a trip like that. Each month she entered their competitions to win exotic holidays, but she never expected anything more in return than junk mail from the tour operators.

  She rubbed her bare finger, thinking of the ring beside her bed. Now she wasn’t sure what she’d say to Greg when she saw him. His proposal had been a shock, but should she be making more effort to consider it?

  She checked her phone again. She’d texted, asking him to call her when he woke up, but there was no reply yet. In the meantime, she was searching for a gift for Mandy. It was her sister’s birthday in a couple of weeks and she needed inspiration for what to buy.

  Lola paused beside a rose-covered archway. Set back from the road, the shop door was ajar. ‘Miss Moonshine’s Wonderful Emporium’, the sign read. The building itself looked like it had once been a grand house, with tall windows and a gleaming black door, although the rampant shrubs and silver birch concealed much of it and gave it an air of mystery.

  Strange. Lola had never noticed the place before. Curious, she headed for the door, glancing up at the arch. She didn’t know much about gardening, but did roses normally flower in April?

  Inside, her shoes tapped on the stone floor. The shop was deserted, and she wove her way through the displays of eclectic objects, old and new. Woodland creatures made of felt perched on tables and high shelves, and they tracked her movements. The bare brick wall was a mosaic of mirrors and paintings and carvings.

  Lola passed a curtained doorway and wondered idly what would Mandy like? Perhaps this pretty, hand-stitched cushion for her room? Or that vintage birdcage? She looked at her own beaded bracelet. She’d made her sister jewellery before, but Mandy didn’t share her taste.

  The sound of Bruno Mars playing made her still. The music came from behind a blue curtain, and the back of her neck prickled. Last night her phone hadn’t stopped buzzing with messages from friends. It seemed everyone in Haven Bridge had seen the video on Facebook, but Lola didn’t want to discuss it. She hurried away, heading for the door.

  ‘Hello, dear.’

  The woman’s voice stopped her, and Lola span on her heel. A tiny, pale-faced lady with startlingly dark lipstick smiled at her, and the curtain she had just stepped through twitched and trembled, then stilled.

  ‘Hi,’ said Lola, and turned away quickly, in the hope she wouldn’t be recognised. Her heart thumped heavily as she pulled out her phone. The music reminded her she had to speak to Greg – as soon as possible.

  ‘I would resist the temptation if I were you.’

  Lola stopped a
nd turned. ‘What?’

  The lady stood behind the counter, filling a basket with timepieces, but her piercing hazel eyes were fixed on Lola. Her white hair bobbed as she nodded. ‘Don’t let others sway you, dear. You’re young. You have plenty of time to follow your heart.’

  Lola blinked. There were lines of pink drawn around the lady’s eyes, and her thin lips were painted a dark shade of plum.

  ‘I don’t know what you mean. You don’t know anything about me,’ she said irritably, and moved to leave.

  ‘Lola, isn’t it? Lola Brown.’

  ‘Just because you’ve seen me on Facebook doesn’t give you the right to judge me.’

  ‘Face – ?’ The lady looked puzzled.

  Fierce heat stole into Lola’s cheeks. This was Greg’s fault, damn him, for posting that stupid film online. Now even strangers were butting in, telling her what to do.

  The blue curtain shook and a tiny dog appeared. He trotted over to a basket in the corner.

  ‘Have you asked yourself, what are your dreams?’ the shopkeeper went on. ‘It can be easy to lose sight of them.’

  Dreams don’t keep a roof over your head. Lola liked to think she had her feet on the ground. Unsettled, she fiddled with the zip of her coat.

  ‘If it feels like a risk, that’s when you’re truly living,’ the lady went on.

  Clearly, she was referring to Greg and his engagement ring. It seemed everyone was pushing her to marry him. ‘I didn’t ask for advice,’ Lola snapped, and made for the door.

  But the shopkeeper blocked her way. A delicate perfume trailed in the air. Confused, Lola glanced back at the counter. How had she moved so fast?

  ‘Here.’ The lady dipped her hand into a bowl of gemstones. She wrapped one in a slip of brown paper and held it out. ‘Keep this with you at all times and it will help you find your path.’

  Lola sighed. ‘I don’t want to buy –’

  The lady seized her hand and put the tiny parcel in it. ‘It’s yours,’ she said firmly. ‘Take it.’

  Her eyes creased with kindness as she smiled, but they had a steely glint which warned Lola not to argue.

  Lola mumbled her thanks and left, pushing the stone deep into her pocket, telling herself she’d dispose of it later.

  *

  ‘Greg?’ she called, ducking her head as she stepped down into the canal boat.

  The smell of bacon rose up to greet her and made her nose wrinkle. Greg emerged from his cabin. His hair was damp and ruffled, as if he’d just towel-dried it, and he grinned when he saw her. He pressed her to him and his lips were warm and soft as he kissed her. She’d been relieved when he’d finally returned her calls and arranged to meet her, but now she was here relief gave way to trepidation.

  ‘Want coffee?’ he asked as he poured one for himself.

  She shook her head. He might have just got up, but it was late afternoon. ‘We need to talk, Greg.’

  ‘Oh yeah? About the wedding? You want to fix a date, don’t you?’

  ‘No!’ she said quickly. ‘About the video – it’s all over Facebook.’

  ‘I know.’ He grinned and bent to open the grill. He pulled out a tray of bacon rashers, which had singed at the edges.

  ‘I wish you’d told me beforehand.’

  Her sharp tone made him look up at her. ‘It wouldn’t have been a surprise if I had.’

  Didn’t he see? She didn’t like surprises. In fact, she hated them. Especially when they concerned her future. She’d lain awake all night, trying to calm her panicked thoughts.

  He dropped the bacon into a couple of bread rolls and slathered them with brown sauce. ‘I haven’t got anything veggie in. You want a bap?’

  ‘I’m not hungry.’

  She followed him over to the small table and sat opposite him. He picked up a roll, then stopped and frowned. ‘Where’s your ring?’

  Lola swallowed. ‘I – er, I left it at home. Listen, Greg. This has all happened –’

  ‘Did you like it? Wasn’t cheap, you know.’ He took a hungry bite.

  Her lips pressed flat. ‘Greg, I’m not sure about any of this.’

  He licked sauce from his fingers. ‘You want a different ring? I don’t think they’ll take it back, but we could ask to exchange it. So about the date – I was thinking next spring.’

  ‘I’m not sure about getting married…’

  He stopped.

  ‘…to you,’ she added quietly.

  ‘What do you mean?’ He put the sandwich down. ‘You said yes. It’s on film, it’s on the bleeding internet – you said yes!’

  ‘Because you put me on the spot! I didn’t want to show you up in front of all those people.’

  ‘So you’re saying no?’ He was incredulous.

  ‘I’m not sure. I – I need time to think.’

  He stared at her. ‘I can’t believe this. What will everyone think? I’ll be a laughing stock.’

  She looked down at her lap, feeling the sting of guilt. But it was kinder to be honest with him, no matter how brutal it felt now.

  ‘Well, how about you move in with me instead?’

  Her earrings jangled as she looked around the place, trying to swallow down her horror at the thought of the two of them being squashed in this narrow cabin with its low roof. Her skin prickled. ‘I’m not sure about that either.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘I don’t feel we know each other well enough.’ She reached for her necklace and her fingers squeezed the wooden beads.

  ‘It’s been a year.’

  ‘Yeah, but –’

  ‘And we’re good together.’ He nodded towards his bedroom and threw her that lopsided grin which always made her melt. ‘You don’t have any complaints in that department, do you?’

  She felt spots of heat burn her cheeks as she smiled. ‘No, I don’t. But Greg – that’s not enough, is it?’

  His smile faded and he raked a hand through his hair. ‘I’m thirty-two, Lo. I’m not getting any younger. How long do you expect me to wait?’

  ‘I – I don’t know,’ she finished quietly.

  ‘I see.’ He pushed his empty plate away. He looked angry. Hurt.

  The air in the boat seemed to weigh heavily.

  ‘I should go.’

  He didn’t reply, and she was in such a rush to climb the steps to daylight that she bumped her head. Rubbing it, she stepped off the boat onto solid land and hurried away down the towpath.

  As she walked, her fingers found the unfamiliar package in her pocket. She pulled it out and unwrapped it. Moon white, it felt smooth and cool in her cupped hand. The slip of brown paper bore a description:

  Angel Stone

  Nurturing stone associated with personal growth and insight

  Opens the mind to new possibilities and opportunities to realise your full potential

  Can help break unwanted patterns of behaviour and bring inner strength and courage

  Lola shook her head. The eccentric shopkeeper might believe in crystals and horoscopes, but Lola didn’t.

  Still, it was a beautiful stone. Too beautiful to throw away. She used beads and gemstones all the time in her jewellery-making, but she’d never seen one like this before. She shoved it back in her coat pocket and put it out of her mind.

  *

  ‘Lola, a word in my office please?’ said Pat in the staff room.

  Lola was pushing her raincoat into a locker. ‘Sure,’ she said. ‘What is it?’

  But her boss had already vanished. Lola followed and watched with a sick feeling as Pat shut the office door. She never closed that door.

  ‘Is something wrong?’

  Pat ignored the question. ‘Have a seat.’

  She did so, watching warily as Pat swivelled her laptop round. Lola came face to face with an image of herself frozen on the screen, Greg on one knee before her.

  Pat’s lips were pinched, her eyes as hard as stone. She said quietly; ‘This happened in work time.’

  ‘I didn’t know he was
going to do it,’ she said quickly. ‘I didn’t know anything –’

  ‘I’d already warned you, Lola. Your efficiency is below standard.’

  Lola swallowed and smoothed out a non-existent crease in her green trousers. ‘I’m sorry.’ She made herself meet her boss’s gaze square on. ‘It won’t happen again.’

  ‘Correct. It won’t. You’ll get your P45 in the post.’

  She sat up as a rush of heat swept through her. ‘You’re sacking me?’

  ‘I’m letting you go, Lola. You’ve had warnings already. This was the last straw.’

  ‘But – but I need the money!’ Mum relied on her help. When she’d first set up the salon and business had been slow, they couldn’t have managed without Lola’s wages. ‘You can’t –’

  ‘I don’t pay my staff to stand around daydreaming or being serenaded by their boyfriends.’

  Pat’s mouth twisted around the word serenaded and, too late, Lola remembered how her boss’s partner had left her for a younger model last year. She glanced at the frozen image on the computer screen. Was Pat jealous?

  ‘I’ll see you out.’

  Lola stood up and mustered as much dignity as possible as she left the premises.

  Outside she walked head down against the rain. A bus drew up, but she stepped back. She’d walk instead. Why not? It was only a couple of miles, and goodness knew she had time on her hands. Tears stung her eyes.

  Her shoes kicked up water, and her trousers were soon soaked through, but she didn’t care. What would she do? She and Mandy were expected to pay their share of the bills, and the rent around here wasn’t cheap. She’d have to find another job. Her heart sank at the thought of waitressing or working in Mum and Mandy’s beauty salon. What about her jewellery-making? No. It didn’t sell.

  Her fingers curled around the crinkly brown paper in her pocket, surprised because she’d forgotten it was there. She opened it and examined the pale stone. Despite the cold rain, it felt warm and solid in her fingers. What was it the old lady had said? If it feels like a risk, that’s when you’re truly living.

  At the time, Lola had been so angry with everyone telling her to marry Greg. She crested the hill and looked down over the chimneys and rooftops of Haven Bridge. But what if that wasn’t what the old lady had meant?