“What about the homewares?”
“Dear Lewis was beside himself. He’s owned his shop for decades and was always a fair trader. Looks out for other people. Veronica moved in over a long weekend when his shop was closed, and he arrived the following Tuesday to find her A-frame signage blocking his front door. Anyway, customers worked her out quickly and she was packed up and gone within weeks.”
“Does she have family? I heard her say she’s a single mother.”
“Of two adult daughters who left home before she moved here. When did you meet Lewis?” Rosie clicked out of Facebook and back to the sales screen.
“Yesterday. He mentioned a Christmas Eve party.”
“Yes. I told you all about…oh. I didn’t. Did I?”
“Was it my blank expression that gave it away?” Charlotte grinned. “Are you going to it?”
“Always. And so should you.”
“Just as well I went shopping this morning and stocked up. What should I bring?”
The morning was so busy that Rosie didn’t stop smiling. Charlotte’s legs ached with every step and she blamed the steep steps to the waterfall for that. But the atmosphere of joyful buying and cheery customers was enough to make her forget her tiredness.
People dropped in gifts for Rosie. By lunchtime she had a shopping bag full of them behind the counter.
“I’m thinking of running this home. That way I won’t have too much to carry tonight if more come.” Rosie put a hand over her mouth. “Oh, listen to me, almost expecting gifts!”
The first chance she got, she hurried out. Charlotte longed to sink onto her stool for a short break, but the shelves weren’t going to tidy or restock themselves, so she sipped some water and got back to work.
She carried an armful of books from the storeroom to replace recently sold titles. Halfway into the shop, the hair stood up on the back of her neck and she looked around. Nobody was there.
“Rosie?”
No answer. And she’d have heard the buzzer. Something made her look out of the window. The blue ute was parked across the street. A man leaned back on the bonnet, his legs and arms crossed as he stared straight at her. The man from the lookout.
Charlotte couldn’t move. Or breathe. He had seen her yesterday and more than that, he knew her. The books grew heavy in her arms. She was going to drop them unless she put them down.
Move, legs.
She forced herself to the counter, the books spilling onto it as her arms gave way. After righting the pile, she looked outside.
He wasn’t at the ute.
Was he coming in here?
The phone was in her hand in an instant but then the familiar sound of the ute’s motor made her pause. It U-turned slowly, the passenger window wound right down. As he passed, the man gave her the finger.
Charming.
Bit by bit, Charlotte’s heartbeat returned to normal and her legs co-operated. Anger kicked the fear to the kerb. He could stare into the shop with a mask, or directly at her without one, but now she knew his face, he was in her sights.
Her bold thoughts settled to more moderate and sensible ones by the time Rosie returned. She needed to talk to Trev, but away from Rosie. Whatever that young man, and Sid, and a few of the others in town had going on required careful consideration, not rushing in and taking risks with nothing but hunches and a few photos that didn’t match up.
“You look deep in thought, darling. Were you rushed off your feet?”
“Busy for almost the whole time. Oh, is that an iced chocolate for me?” Charlotte almost clapped her hands as Rosie placed the cup holder on the counter.
“It is. The caffeine will help.”
“Yummy, thank you.” After a long sip through the straw, Charlotte sighed. “I needed this so much.”
“You deserve it. And you’ve even restocked and tidied. Nobody should ever complain about how this little shop looks.”
“Speaking of people who complain…” Charlotte finally sat on her stool and stretched her legs. “Glenys.”
“Was she in again?”
“No. But yesterday when I was at the top of the falls, I noticed her at the lookout. She had flowers.”
Rosie nodded. “Of course. It would be to remember her poor husband. Must be around fifteen years ago he slipped off that very place.”
“I assumed as much. What a dreadful thing. She had someone with her.”
“One of the ladies?” Rosie said.
“A young man. Dark, longish hair. Twenties.”
“Hm. Doesn’t sound familiar. Perhaps her nephew. Her brother used to live in town and was a bit of a hell-raiser. Ended up in prison and his family moved. Never been back. But there was a son.”
Oh, Glenys. Are you harbouring a criminal?
Chapter Thirty-Six
Whatever Glenys might be up to, Charlotte had no more time to worry about it, or the rather rude young driver of the blue ute. The remainder of the day flew by and before she knew it, Rosie was waving the final customer goodbye and closing the front door.
“Already?”
“You, my darling, are a natural retailer. What you’ve done this past week or two is nothing short of amazing and I am proud of you!” Rosie reached her hand out and when Charlotte took it, pulled her down to kiss her cheek. “Very proud.”
Charlotte couldn’t stop smiling as a lovely warmth filled her heart. She’d rarely been praised in her life and no longer expected it, so these words from the lady she respected so much meant the world.
Rosie pulled the metal cash box out from beneath the counter. “Are you happy for me to donate all the notes to Darcy’s family?”
“I can think of no better recipient. How will we get it to them, and the books? Shall I drive up tonight?”
“No need. I spoke to Abbie earlier and they are
