Neil Harrington had walked up the street at least twice and had partaken of a creamy latte in the coffee shop before he finally found himself standing outside the gaily painted hat shop. Flowers tumbled from the pots on either side of the door, and the striped awning had been slightly opened, which added to the continental atmosphere that Ellie had managed to create.
The window was filled with five hatstands, which displayed a variety of millinery confections. Even to his untutored eye they looked delightful, and three simple clumps of violets growing in silver pots sat tastefully between them. Without thinking he found himself pushing at the door, startled by the tinkle of the shop bell only inches above his head.
He stood for a second waiting before she appeared.
‘Oh,’ said Ellie, surprised to see him. ‘It’s you.’
For an instant he was discomforted, put off his stride.
‘Yes. I was passing and I said I’d call in.’
Her dark eyes flashed at him quizzically under that thick glossy fringe. She was obviously wondering what he was there for.
‘I actually came in to get a hat.’
Her lips began to lift up into a smile.
‘Well, it’s for my mother. She loves these kinds of things. I thought it would be nice for her to have one of yours, upcoming designer and all that.’
He wondered for a moment where those words had come from, and why he had blurted them out, but now it was said it didn’t seem a bad idea really. Rosemary Harrington led a very busy social life, what with being on the fund-raising committee for a hospital and organizing charity balls and events for a number of societies. It had almost become a full-time occupation since his father had died and she always seemed to need outfits. Another hat wouldn’t go amiss, and besides, she had out of the blue mentioned the possibility of getting a hat from the young hatmaker on South Anne Street. He would surprise her with one.
‘Yes. She most definitely needs one.’
Ellie stood across from him, near enough for him to pick up on the light floral scent that clung to her. She suddenly became businesslike.
‘Well, when does your mother need this hat?’
‘Soon.’
‘How soon? Is it a rush job?’
‘No! No,’ he retreated. ‘It’s not urgent, but I thought that with the good weather and garden parties and the races, and there’s a christening coming up . . .’
‘I see. Did you have anything in particular in mind?’
He was totally flummoxed. He racked his brains trying to remember the kind of things his mother wore, but for the life of him he couldn’t. He even did a mental playback of family albums, searching frantically for an image of his mother with some kind of item on her head.
‘She’s mad about hats. The house is full of them.’
‘Maybe she has enough then,’ she suggested gently.
‘No. Most definitely not! She gets tired of them. Always wants something new and fresh.’
Ellie’s eyes widened.
‘Neil, have you any idea what your mother would like? It would be a help.’
‘I’ll leave it all up to you. Your good hands and all that.’ He suddenly felt pleased with himself.
‘Have you looked at the ones in the window?’
She walked past him. He could smell her shampoo as she reached for the furthest hatstand and presented him with a concoction of pink and purple. Most definitely not his mother’s style!
‘Or there’s this coloured band that can be very effective. It sits across the head and these tiny pieces of cream and white almost look like they are floating. It’s a wonderful style.’
He studied the band as she passed it to him, noticing how small her fingers were, her nails unpolished and buffed.
The two other styles were definitely more suited to a wedding.
‘Listen, I’ll just slip in the back. My mother had a collection of basic designs to show customers. Starting points, she used to call them. It’s good to show people if they are not sure what they want, as choosing a shape is important. The book is somewhere there. Give me a minute and I’ll find it. I’ll get my pad so we can rough out something for your mother. I’ll be back in a jiffy.’
He sat on the small chair waiting for her, for once unsure what to say or do as the black cat in the window licked her paws and stared at him.
Ellie returned, books in hand, and pulled up a stool beside him.
‘Neil, will you have a look through this.’
He began to turn the pages.
‘How are you?’ he asked.
Her eyes widened.
‘If you mean have I had any more drunken nights where I have disgraced myself, the answer is no.’
‘I didn’t mean to be judgemental,’ he apologized. ‘I just wanted to know if you are all right.’
She blinked and turned her head and for some reason he suspected he’d upset her further.
‘Ellie?’
‘Never better actually,’ she said, dazzling him with a smile. ‘The business is doing well. People are beginning to know about the shop and I love what I do. Things are going great, and fingers crossed I’m off to France in another few weeks.’
‘France?’
‘Paris.’
He swallowed hard, trying to concentrate on the ridiculous drawings on the page. Obviously off to Paris with that boyfriend he’d seen her with. Maybe if he wasn’t such a stuffy old fool and had sent her yellow roses and romanced her, things would be different. Too late as per usual.
He stood listening to her talk for another few minutes, just to hear her voice and watch the way she scrunched her nose.
‘Neil, are you listening?’ interrupted Ellie. ‘I think it’s a really nice idea about getting your mother a hat but I do think it would be better if she came in to talk to me herself and order something she really wants. I’m not even sure of her hat size.’
‘But you’ve met her,’ he insisted. ‘Besides, I want to surprise her.’
‘She’s very stylish, in a classic kind of way,’ mused Ellie aloud. ‘Probably something very simple and elegant, maybe a black and white or black and cream or beige, a slight down-brim that’s not too wide.’
‘Perfect,’ he said, noticing the way she frowned when she was concentrating.
Fifteen minutes later, after her promise to phone him when the hat was ready, he found himself back out on the street.
He’d missed twelve messages on his mobile and was late for a client meeting. He hoped that his secretary, Jean, was looking after Jerome Casey in his absence. He’d spent the past forty minutes talking about his mother and women’s hats just so he could see Ellie, and he hadn’t even had the courage to ask her out to dinner.