The car boot sale was huge. Stevie stood at the entrance to the field and gazed around with a mixture of excitement and dismay. She was bound to find what she wanted here, but she worried she might not get to see all of it and might miss something exquisite.
There was nothing for it, she and Karen would have to split up.
‘You know the sort of thing I’m looking for?’ Stevie asked again, probably for the twenty-sixth time, and Karen rolled her eyes.
‘Anything cutesy, mismatched, old-fashioned – I’ve got it,’ Karen said. ‘You do realise none of it will be able to go in the dishwasher, don’t you?’
Stevie sighed. ‘I know, but I have this vision in my head of flowery tea-cups and tiny silver tongs for the sugar lumps, and real linen napkins, not those awful serviettes.’ Suddenly, her eyes filled with unexpected tears and she brushed them away, angrily, fluttering her hands in front of her face. ‘Sorry, I’m just a bit…’ She wasn’t exactly sure why she was crying, but for a moment everything felt a bit too much.
Karen moved closer and gathered her into a hug. ‘Come here, silly. You’ll be fine, you know you will. It’s just pre-opening nerves.’ She patted Stevie’s back.
Stevie sniffed, ‘But what if I’m not good enough, or there’s no trade or…?’
She worried at the niggle the passer-by had put in her head the other day, in the same way a child poked at a loose tooth, and for the umpteenth time she considered giving the estate agent a call. She really should have asked a few more questions about the place before she bought it. Not that she was regretting buying Peggy’s Tea Shoppe, because she wasn’t, but it may have been prudent to have asked why the previous owners were selling, and maybe she should have made some enquiries of her own – like, what sort of footfall could she expect, what business was like during the winter, that kind of thing. Sensible questions, the sort of questions serious business people would have asked. Instead, she’d let her heart rule her head and fallen in love with both the shop and Tanglewood
‘No regrets, eh?’ Karen said, pulling away slightly to look Stevie in the eye. ‘You are going to make a go of it, I know you will. How can you not, with the pastries and cakes you make? You’re a brilliant baker, your choux buns are the best I’ve ever tasted.’
‘But that’s just it,’ Stevie wailed. ‘I’m a baker, not a businesswoman; I belong in front of an oven, not behind a desk.’
Karen gave her a gentle shake and smiled. ‘Have you even got a desk?’
‘Nooo, but—’
‘You will be in front of your oven. Both of them. Most of the time.’
‘Yeah, it’s that bit when I won’t be which worries me. I have no idea how to do accounts, or how to balance the books, or even if I’ve got the right insurance.’
‘Slow down. One thing at a time, yeah? Have you kept all your receipts?’
‘I think so.’
‘That’s a good start. How about I cook us a meal tonight, then we’ll settle down with a bottle of something chilled and open up a spreadsheet?’
‘Blimey, Karen, you really do know how to party.’ Stevie pulled a packet of tissues out of her bag and blew her nose. ‘Anyway, you’re not cooking – I am. You’re my guest.’
‘Nonsense! You’ve got enough to do.’ Karen put her arm around Stevie and Stevie leaned into her.
‘I’m so glad you’re here,’ Stevie said to her best friend. ‘I’ll be even more glad if you make your poached salmon with horseradish crème fraiche.’
‘We’ll see,’ Karen said with a smile.
‘And a watercress velouté?’ Stevie gave her a pleading look.
‘I swear you only invited me up here for my wonderful sauces,’ Karen said but she was laughing as she did so, and Stevie did a mental fist pump.
Karen was one of the best sauciers Stevie knew and her mouth was watering already. ‘Yep, I dragged you all this way just for your culinary skills,’ Stevie teased. ‘And the only reason you agreed to come was because I said we’d be going shopping.’
‘You know me so well, although I must say, I hoped it might be for shoes, not teapots.’ And with that, Karen sauntered off, clutching a purse full of money which Stevie had given her.
‘No buying any shoes,’ Stevie called after her and Karen waved a hand in the air without looking back.
Stevie felt better about things already, despite the momentary lapse in confidence. She was also having a momentary lapse of funds too, or would be shortly if she wasn’t careful. She’d already spent an inordinate amount, and there was loads more she needed to buy, but hopefully she’d be able to get most of it at this flea market without shelling out too much.
Ooh, look, there is a stall selling lots of china. Stevie sauntered over to it, trying to look casual, but her eyes lit up when she spied a beautifully decorated bone-china cake-knife with a silver blade that was carved with an intricate pattern. This was exactly the kind of thing she was looking for, and she set about bartering for her first purchase of the day.
By the time she met up with Karen near the entrance, she was more than ready for doughnuts and coffee from a nearby stand.
Karen was beside herself with excitement, and laden down with assorted bags which she was handling with more care than if they contained the crown jewels.
‘Shall we take this lot back to the car, then treat ourselves to a coffee?’ Stevie suggested.
‘I gotta show you these first. Please let me show you these. There is a woman selling her grandmother’s things, boxes and boxes of stuff. The old lady died and the granddaughter has been left to clear out the house.’ Karen was practically hopping from foot to foot. ‘Ooh, I really do like spending other people’s money,’ she declared with a huge grin.
Karen opened one of the bags to reveal bundle after bundle of newspaper-covered parcels. Carefully, she took one out and unwrapped it to reveal a pair of matching salt and pepper pots. They were in the shape of a dog.
‘There were loads of them, all different, so I bought twenty sets, one for each table and a few spare, just in case. I’ve got tiny pots with lids and holes cut out for spoons, and little jugs, and— oomph!’
Stevie caught Karen in a hug and danced her around in a circle, their bulging carrier bags on the grass between them. ‘I love you!’ she cried.
‘I know. I’m good, aren’t I?’ Karen replied. ‘Let’s go back to the car and have a good look at what we’ve got already and what else you need, then we’ll have that coffee.’
‘Good idea.’
Stevie was like a child on Christmas morning as Karen unwrapped each item, and Stevie checked it off her list. The two friends had already made a good start and after a quick pit-stop for refreshments, Karen led her through the rabbit-warren of parked cars and vans until they came to the one she wanted to show her.
‘Teapots!’ Stevie cried and rubbed her hands together in delight. There were delicate china ones, sturdy practical ones, novelty ones…
The china ones, she decided, and picked out several she thought would work in the shop. She had a vision of her typical customer in her head – middle-aged, a bit on the particular side, likes things just so – and she felt the teapots would do very well indeed.
A couple of stalls along and she was buying a mishmash of plates in a variety of sizes, while she sent Karen off to scout for cake stands. She simply had to have cake stands, loads of them. And tablecloths. Peggy used to insist on a tablecloth and although it would mean the washing machine might be on 24/7, Stevie saw the attraction.
She was aiming for a kind of Victorian-Edwardian feel (she wasn’t quite sure which) but when she thought about what she wanted the tea shop to look like when it was fully kitted out, a vision of afternoon tea taken by ladies in high-necked, long, white dresses came to mind, where gentlemen always held chairs out and the women never failed to have a lace hankie about their person. Something which wouldn’t be out of place in a production of Pride and Prejudice (although she suspected that might be the Regency era – or was it Georgian?). She wanted her customers to feel as though they had stepped back in time to a more genteel, civilised era, where pouring a cup of tea and eating a selection of cakes and pastries was an occasion to be enjoyed and lingered over – the exact opposite to a Gregg’s sandwich. Not that she had anything against Gregg’s sandwiches (she didn’t, and she’d eaten plenty of them in her time) but she was aiming for a different end of the catering market.
‘Are we done?’ Karen appeared at her elbow with yet more bags and the two of them staggered back to the car for a final time.
The Beetle was stuffed from ceiling to floor with assorted bags, and after a bit of shuffling and squeezing, Karen managed to wedge herself into the passenger seat for the drive home.
By the time they’d unloaded the car, both girls were starting to flag.
‘If I knew it was going to be this much work, I might have had second thoughts,’ Stevie said. ‘I want to open next weekend, but I’m nowhere near ready.’
‘Yes, you are,’ Karen replied firmly. ‘Although if I knew I was going to be a pack horse for the day, I might have stayed in London.’
She nudged Stevie with her elbow to show she was joking, and Stevie nudged her back, suddenly tearful again. How was she going to manage all on her own, in the middle of nowhere, with no friends or family close by?
Although, by the time she’d unpacked, washed and found a place for everything, and had stood back to admire the tea shop, she was starting to feel a bit more optimistic. The place really did look great. It was still lacking a few bits and pieces, but she could get those done over the next few days.
‘Dinner is ready,’ Karen called from the kitchen and Stevie suddenly realised just how hungry she was.
‘I envy you, I really do,’ Karen said, as she plated up their food. ‘You’ve made your dream come true. I wish I could do the same.’
Stevie blinked. ‘I didn’t know you wanted to run a café? You never said.’
‘I don’t. I want to run my own kitchen one day.’ She sounded so wistful, Stevie’s heart went out to her friend.
‘You will,’ she said, meaning it and wishing she could do something to help make it happen. Her friend was one of life’s good people and she deserved a break.
‘Right then, enough of me,’ Karen declared, clapping her hands. ‘The rest of today and most of tomorrow is all about the tea shop. We’ve got the accounts to sort out and some price lists to decide on. But before we start, I want to say one thing – Peggy would have been so proud of you.’
And, as Stevie surveyed her beautiful, quaint little shop, she knew Karen was right.