The Little Unicorn Gift Shop: A heartwarming romance with a bit of sparkle in 2018!

The squeak of the front door snapped her out of her darkening mood. ‘Mr Evans? You’re on time. Excellent. I like that. You didn’t mention anything about bringing someone? No matter though. There’s not much to see, just the main space, the kitchen behind, and there’s a small office. But it’s always good to have a second opinion. Come in. Come in. Lovely to meet you, dear, I’m Monty Gilbert. Call me Monty.’

‘Actually, she was going to stay out—’ Ben went to correct the bespectacled gentleman who’d greeted him, but stopped as he was hustled inside.

Poppy gave him a ‘what can you do’ shrug, trailed inside and then stepped to the right, giving Ben some space to chat to the landlord and giving herself a moment to view the shop that would have been hers if Ben hadn’t seen it first.

It was beautiful. Perfect. Polished wooden floors gleamed under subtle downlights. One end of the shop was lined in redbrick, the other plastered and painted a barely-there cream. She could imagine white-painted shelves pushed up against it, filled with unicorn stationery – holographic pens, unicorn stickers, writing sets. Mugs from bombastic and brilliant to sweet and subtle. Stuffed unicorn toys could take pride of place in the corner, and a range of unicorn-printed clothing could hang from a rack by the far wall.

She glanced over at Ben and saw his eyes brighten as he took in the brick wall. She knew what he was seeing. She could see it too. Wooden shelving stained the colour of long-steeped black tea would be perfect against that red and would look marvellous holding tea-sets and tins of tea. And the ornate timber counter could easily be stained the same colour and would provide a striking centrepiece for the shop. It was the perfect space for his venture.

‘I must apologise, I was a little misleading in my advertisement.’ Monty shoved his hands in his brown corduroy pant pockets and rocked back and forth on his feet. ‘You see my son told me I was asking too little rent for this space. I haven’t had to rent it out in years, you see. The only reason I’m renting it now is because the previous tenant passed, may she rest in peace, and I thought a little hike in the lease was fine. Turns out I was going to be doing myself no favours…’

‘Oh.’ Ben’s face stilled. His eyes narrowed. Was that panic flashing through them? Or had Poppy imagined it? ‘What kind of rent are you looking for?’

Monty paused, then uttered a number.

The colour drained from Ben’s face. ‘That’s twice what you were asking in the advertisement.’

‘I know, and I’m sorry if I’ve wasted your time.’ Monty looked up as the door opened and two gangly teens walked in. A boy and a girl, both the same height, with hair the identical shade of auburn.

Fraternal twins, Poppy guessed.

‘Sophie, Joseph. Didn’t I tell you to wait outside if you saw I was with people?’ Monty folded his arms and fixed the twins with an irritated stare.

‘Sorry, Grandad. Forgot.’ The girl, Sophie, shrugged, then held up her hand and began inspecting her nails.

Monty’s chest rose and fell as a huff of irritation filled the room. ‘I’m so sorry for the intrusion, Mr Evans. Would you mind giving me a minute while I sort these two out, then send them on their way?’ His palms flipped up in a silent apology, before turning his attention to the twins. ‘So, how did the job search go?’ Monty’s pitch heightened with hope.

‘Nowhere.’ Sophie leaned against the counter, her petite nose wrinkling. ‘The job search went nowhere, right, Joe?’

Her brother nodded, his eyes fixed on the floorboards. ‘Nobody wants us.’

‘And we tried, Grandad, we really did.’ Sophie pulled out her phone and buried her nose in it.

Poppy grinned. Sure they’d tried. That explained the splodge of what looked like chocolate ice cream on Joseph’s shirt. And the leaf attached to the bottom of Sophie’s shoe. Grabbing ice cream and going for a walk through Queen’s Wood was hardly what she’d call a job search.

‘Well, you’ll have to try again tomorrow.’ Monty shook his head. ‘I can’t have you two underfoot all holidays. And I promised your parents we’d keep you busy, keep you out of mischief, until you decided what you wanted to do with your lives.’

An idea swirled in the back of Poppy’s mind. She may have found a way to launch both businesses, while getting onside of the landlord, who – if the look of despair on his face was anything to go by – had two charges on his hands that were going to drive him crazy if they weren’t kept busy.

‘How much did you say the rent was again?’ She made her way to stand beside Ben, hoping he’d go along with her idea. Provide a united front.

Monty repeated the price.

‘Would you consider shaving ten per cent off that, in exchange for hiring these two?’ She nodded at Sophie and Joe, whose mouths formed identical o’s, their aquamarine eyes widening in horror. Poppy suppressed a smile. ‘Because we’re going to need some help, Ben and I, if we’re going to open our shops in this space in couple of weeks’ time.’

‘Our shops?’ Ben shot Poppy a quizzical look.

‘Sparkle & Steep. That’s the name we agreed on, right?’ She raised her eyebrows, praying that Ben wouldn’t work against her.

‘Sparkle & Steep. Yes, that’s right.’ Ben nodded, his face free from emotion.

A bit shell-shocked, Poppy guessed. ‘You see, Monty, we are going to open a gourmet tea shop, and London’s most fabulous unicorn gift shop.’ She turned to her new employees. ‘Now, Sophie, Joe, I may as well be upfront about this. We can’t afford to pay much, I’m sorry, but being new and all there’s just not the money there for more than the living wage.’

‘That’s fine,’ Monty interrupted. ‘These two need work, and you’re offering it. It’ll keep them out of my hair, and keep them out of trouble. I’ve got the papers all drawn up out back. Take a look at them, and if all is in order, the shop’s yours. But the sooner you decide the better, I’ve another interested party keen to take a look. They should be here any minute, actually.’ Not waiting for an answer Monty turned and made his way through the door to the back room, leaving the two teens to huddle up in a murmur of mutters.

Ben pulled Poppy to the furthest corner. ‘What are you doing?’ he hissed. ‘Opening a store with me? That wasn’t the plan. And why’d you go and throw the twins into the deal? They clearly don’t want to work.’

‘First of all, you had your budget and this was out of it. I, too, have a budget.’ Poppy crossed her fingers behind her back. ‘And our budgets combined will make this work. Also, you’ll need help. And I’ll need help. And it’s clear to me that Monty is being driven round the bend by those two being under his feet. It all makes sense. I’d go so far as to say it’s meant to be.’ Poppy flashed Ben a thumbs up, along with an encouraging nod.

Monty returned in a rustle of paper and a hustle of feet. ‘Here you go. Here are the papers. Look over them. It’s all above board, but I want you to be happy.’

Poppy thrust her hand in Monty’s direction, and ignored Ben’s choke-cough. ‘No need for that. I trust you. We trust you. Consider us your new tenants.’

Chapter 3

Ben ran his eyes over the documents before him. Poppy may have been willing to sign away her life without checking things out first, but there was no way he was about to. Still, they looked fine to his professional eye. Everything was in order as Monty had said. But what was not in order, in fact what was highly out of order, was Poppy springing this on him without even considering his thoughts, his feelings.

Sharing a space with her? Not just a space, but a business space? This wasn’t like sharing a fake rock-pet as they had when they were young and neither set of parents had allowed them to own a puppy or kitten. This was their lives. Their livelihoods. And if the fate of the rock-pet was anything to go by, going into business with Poppy was not a good idea. She’d lost the darn thing between school and home three days into their deal to share it.

‘Didn’t see that coming, did ya?’ The girl – Sophie – nudged him with her elbow. ‘I’ve never seen someone look so green in my life. Do you need a bucket?’

‘Sophie, don’t be rude. That’s our boss you’re talking to.’ Her brother pulled Sophie away and gave Ben some breathing space.

Breathing space? He’d need more than the air in the shop to breathe after everything Poppy had just flung at him. He’d need a small country’s worth of air. Speaking of Poppy, where had she gone? ‘Poppy?’

‘I’m out the back. With you in a sec.’

The light tip-tap of excitable feet greeted him, followed by Poppy, her green eyes sparkling with excitement.

‘This place is perfect. The kitchen’s great. You’ll love it. The office is a little small, but I’m sure we can take turns in there to have our cups of tea when we’re on break, or eat our lunch, or whatever. Or we could squeeze in together if you don’t mind getting cuddly with me. The toilet could do with a scrub, but I think we can get Joe or Sophie to do that. Whoever’s annoying us most at any given time.’

‘We heard that,’ Sophie sniped over her shoulder, before turning back to her brother, who had his eyes glued on his phone, his fingers tapping away furiously.

‘You were meant to.’ Poppy’s smile didn’t falter. ‘It’s my not-so-subtle way of telling you not to annoy us. And to do that you need to do as you’re told, when you’re told, and to not walk around with that grimace on your face. You’ll scare off the customers.’ Ignoring the grunt from Sophie’s direction, Poppy focused on Ben. ‘So, Ben, have you signed the papers? Does it look good? Are you happy with everything? Do you think we could have this place up and running in a week or two?’

Ben set the papers down, closed his eyes and took a breath. This was too much, too fast. This was pure Poppy. All go, no slow. ‘Poppy.’ He opened his eyes and took her by the shoulders. ‘I’m not sure about this. You and me, running a business in the same room? It’s a recipe for disaster.’

‘Piffle.’ Poppy shook her head, sending her signature black braid swinging. ‘We used to make a great team. Aced all the school projects we did together. And sure, we got into a little trouble here and there…’

‘Because of you,’ Ben asserted, hoping to remind her that her past follies hadn’t been forgotten. Even if they had quickly been forgiven.

‘Yes, well, I was younger. Now I’m not. Look, I’ve got the money.’ She pulled out her phone and began swiping furiously. ‘I have an app that I can show you. I’ve been saving every penny I can for a couple of years now.’ She went to lift her phone, but Ben held up his hand, stopping her.

‘It’s not that I don’t think you have the money. You could get the money in a second, even if you didn’t. Your mother, your family, isn’t exactly poor…’

Poppy’s smile disappeared, the line of her jaw sharpened. Ben inwardly cursed himself. Poppy’s mother may have been a successful artist, and the family she came from may have been well off, but that didn’t mean Poppy was a pampered princess who was given everything her heart desired. His home had shared a wall with Poppy’s, and he’d heard the raised voices when she and her mother had argued, followed by the door slamming.

What had gone on at the Taylor household to cause so much friction, he had no idea; Poppy and her often red-rimmed eyes had refused to speak of it, but he knew enough to know that the relationship she had with her mother wasn’t the kind where you asked for money. Or, come to think of it, where you’d turn up on the doorstep after twelve years away expecting your old room back.

And maybe that meant he needed to put his misgivings on pause, to trust Poppy. For all her youthful transgressions she’d come home with a plan, with money to execute that plan, and she’d been the one to find a way to reduce the rent on the space, while hiring two helping hands who she had managed to wrangle into submission with just a few words and the lightest of warnings.

‘The thing is, Poppy, what do you know about running a business? It’s a big ask to expect me to just leap into this with you. There’s a lot of risk involved…’

‘And I know how much you hate taking risks, which is why I’m not making you take any. Like I said, I have the money. And while I’ve never owned a business I’ve worked in plenty. I’ve even been put in charge of a couple. Look, Ben. I’m offering a solution. The rent’s lower. We’ve got two people over there who, despite their surly and disinterested demeanours, I think could actually be quite helpful. More importantly, we’ve got each other. We can make anything work.’ Poppy took his hands in hers and gave them a shake. ‘Come on. Trust me. But trust me quick. Look outside.’

Ben twisted round to see a couple hanging around the shop’s front window, their noses all but pressed to the window.

‘Monty said it was ours, but if they’re willing to pay the full amount…’ Poppy let the sentence hang, her eyebrows raised.

Damn it. She was right. And he wanted this place. Had done since he saw the advertisement. The exposed bricks, the polished floorboards, the simple but chic décor. It was perfect for a gourmet tea shop. ‘Fine. Pass me the pen.’ He took in a deep breath as he scrawled his name, and prayed he wasn’t making a mistake.

‘Fantastic.’ Poppy scooped the papers up from under him. ‘Monty. We’re all signed up.’ She passed the papers to their new landlord then half-danced, half-skipped her way to the front door, opened it and flapped her hands at the would-be tenants. ‘Sorry, shop’s gone. Good luck with your search. Have a fab day.’ She twisted round and rubbed her hands together. ‘Right. What are we waiting for? We’ve got two shops to open. Sophie? Joe? Consider this your last day of freedom. Be here tomorrow morning at nine sharp.’ Poppy turned her attention back to Ben. ‘As for you and I, let’s get the keys and you can take me to my new abode, and we’ll nut things out there over a bottle of something yummy. My treat.’

***

‘Well, this wasn’t what I expected.’ Ben did a slow three-sixty as he took in Poppy’s new home, tucked away on the top floor of a terraced house that had been converted into flats. The open-plan living and dining area was on the small side, with just enough room for the two-seater couch, coffee table and dining suite. Through an open door he spotted a bed, and another door, which presumably led to the en-suite. Despite its cosiness, it was surprisingly elegant, with white-washed wooden floors throughout, walls painted in a soft grey, and the architraves and skirtings in a fresh white. ‘It must be a relief that you were able to rent it furnished.’ Ben ran his hand over the cream knotted throw that lay over the soft chestnut-coloured leather couch.

‘Yeah, well, I knew I wanted to hit the ground running when I arrived, so it just made sense to find a place that was all set up for me.’ Poppy grabbed the bottle of sauvignon blanc she’d picked up on their way home and cracked the lid. ‘Screw tops. How did we ever live without them?’

‘My father calls them the work of the devil.’ Ben rolled his eyes towards the ceiling and shook his head.

Poppy’s laughter filled the space, light and free. ‘Why does that not surprise me?’ She sloshed the wine into two glasses and passed one to Ben. ‘So, what made you do such a U-turn? Upping and leaving a safe, secure job in order to start your own business venture? That’s not the Ben I grew up with. And, how is your father taking it?’

Ben swirled the wine round, creating a miniature maelstrom. He inwardly grimaced; it was the perfect symbol for the current state of his life. ‘He’s taking it as well as you’d expect. Dad can’t get his head around me wanting something other than what he wants for me, if that makes sense. All these years and we’ve shared the law. Bonded over it. Now… I’m doing what makes me happy. Pursuing a career that fills me with joy in here…’ He tapped his heart. ‘A career that excites me. I think Dad sees that as a betrayal. Hell, I know he does.’ He took a sip of wine, hoping to wash away the grief that had created a knot in his throat. ‘We’re not really talking right now. Mum’s trying to mediate, but…’

‘She’s wasting her time?’ Poppy moved to the small dining table and pushed aside the curtains, allowing the late afternoon light to spill into the room.

‘Something like that.’ Ben pulled out the chair opposite Poppy, sat down and closed his eyes against the sun, glad for the moment to rest, relax… and try and figure out what the hell he’d just gotten himself into.

‘“Why did I agree to this?” That’s what you’re thinking, isn’t it?’

Ben opened his eyes to see the tip of Poppy’s tongue peeking out between her lips, a teasing smile lifting her lips.

‘I’m not going to screw this up, Ben. I promise. Sparkle & Steep is going to be amazing.’ Poppy took a sip of her wine and set the glass down. ‘It’ll be as brilliant as this view. Look at the view, Ben. Isn’t it brilliant?’

Ben turned to the window and saw a length of London sprawling before him, the cityscape rising tall and proud into a bright blue sky. ‘You’re right, it’s brilliant. God, I can’t believe you managed to find this place while living on the other side of the world.’

‘I’m lucky like that.’ Poppy grinned, her fingers rhythmically drumming on the table. ‘I’m also lucky to have you. You could have said no to me coming into the shop with you. You could have told me to stay in the car back there. You could have flat out refused to entertain the idea of going into business with me. But you didn’t. So, thank you.’

‘You’re not going to make me regret it, are you?’ Ben laid his hand over Poppy’s, stopping the incessant drumming.

‘No. I’m not. We’re going to prove your father wrong. More than that, we’re going to make him proud.’ Poppy lifted her glass. ‘To us. To Sparkle & Steep.’

Ben raised his glass to meet hers, then took a sip as was tradition. Making his father proud. Poppy made it seem so easy. So simple. But how did you make a man proud when you’d walked away from a profession that, for the men in his family, being part of was every bit a tradition as sipping your drink after proposing a toast?

‘Stop stewing, Ben.’ Poppy sprung up, crossed the room to where she’d dumped her backpack, then unclipped and rifled through it, sending a tattered lump of greyness, with a faded rainbow mane, falling to the floor.

Mr Flumpkins? Surely not? Had Poppy really carried the unicorn she’d found in Alexandra Park and – after being unable to find its owner – decided to adopt, around the world with her? She must’ve had him for twenty odd years by now.

‘Am I seeing things? Is that… Mr Flumpkins?’

Poppy hugged the soft toy to her chest. ‘It is. In the cosy, cuddly fluffy-ish flesh.’

Ben held his hand out, and Poppy passed the toy to him. ‘I can’t believe he’s still in one piece.’

‘Barely.’ Poppy continued rummaging through her bag. ‘He nearly lost his ear in an airport escalator a couple of years back. Fell out of my backpack, nearly got chomped, poor wee soul. Luckily a young girl snatched him up and gave him back before it was too late.’

‘I’m surprised she didn’t keep him for herself.’

‘Hardly. She told me I needed to chuck him and get myself a newer, prettier one. She liked the ice cream I bought her to say thanks well enough though. Ah, here’s what I’m looking for.’ She pulled out a shining, shimmering notebook, a pen threaded through its ringed spine. ‘We need to plan how we’re going to do this thing.’

Ben placed Mr Flumpkins on the windowsill and straightened up. Yes, a plan was needed. Big time. With a plan in place he’d feel less like he’d been shoved into a whirlwind and spat out again.

‘So…’ Poppy slid into the chair, opened the notebook and wrote the name she’d proposed at the top of a blank page. ‘I was thinking we could have multi-coloured chairs scattered around multi-coloured tables. Industrial style metal ones. They’ll look amazing. Also, unicorn-headed teaspoons. Oh, and I could get some of those cushions that are covered in sequins that can be brushed two ways to create different patterns so that the chairs are nice and comfy for those who want to sit and natter.’ She reached over and grabbed her mobile from its spot on the kitchen bench. ‘Find out where to get reversible sequin cushions,’ she said aloud as she typed the reminder into her phone. She set the phone down with a satisfied nod. ‘I’d sell them as well, of course. They’re fabulous.’

Ben blinked, trying to comprehend what he was hearing. So much for being spat out of the whirlwind. What was Poppy on about? Multi-coloured this and that? Sparkly cushions? That wasn’t the plan. That wasn’t gourmet. It sounded like… a unicorn had eaten too many sweets and thrown up all over the place.

‘Nooooo. No. Uh-uh. This won’t do. This isn’t going to work.’ He pushed the chair back, and began to pace the width of the room, trying to get his thoughts in order.

‘What do you mean it won’t work? It has to. We’ve signed the lease. We’ve committed.’ Poppy tapped the end of the pen on the notebook. ‘I’ve seen some unicorn-themed clothing that I was planning to sell, but maybe we could find tea lovers’ apparel too? Cake lovers’ apparel? There must be some out there we could import, or we could create our own?’

Ben’s stomach swirled. Tea and cake-loving apparel? Where was the sophistication? The class? This wasn’t what he had in mind, not by a long shot. It was like Poppy thought that by sharing a space with him they were joining forces, going into business together. An inseparable team. Just like the old days. But this wasn’t the old days. They’d been separated for years now. Gone down different paths. And, if he were one hundred per cent honest with himself, while it was one thing to share a lease, he didn’t want to share his shop. Not with someone who could so easily pack up and pick up in the middle of the night without saying a word.

Fear froze his frenetic pacing. And what if she did that anyway? Even if their shops were separate, he’d be left with one surly teen, one disengaged one, and half a shop’s worth of lease.

Ben swallowed hard, pushing the lump that was threatening to choke him, to drown his dreams, out of the way. ‘Poppy. Ground rules. We need to set some.’

‘Ground rules?’ Poppy’s head angled, her brows drawing together. ‘What kind?’

‘First of all. You are not to leave in the middle of the night without warning.’

Poppy huffed and rolled her eyes. ‘I did it once. Years ago. I’m a grown woman, I’m not going to do that again. I wouldn’t do it to you. There’s too much riding on this. I get that.’

‘Which leads me to the next rule. We have to keep our businesses separate. We can share a space, share the lease, but under no circumstances is any of your… paraphernalia to enter my side of the shop. “Steep” is not to look like a fairy chundered in it. There will be no glitter. No sparkle. No tackiness. No unicorns. My side of the shop—’ he placed his hand on his chest to emphasise the point ‘—is to be a place of refinement. Where people who appreciate good tea will come and discover new flavours and broaden their tea horizons, all while enjoying delicious morsels.’

Poppy rolled her eyes. ‘How did you and I ever end up friends? You’re such a stick in the mud. And who says “morsels” anymore? Food, Ben. They’ll be coming to eat your food.’ Poppy placed her hands on her hips. ‘Honestly, I can’t believe you’re so anti-unicorn. I knew I should’ve set up a cat-themed shop instead. Cat cafes are big business. I went to one in New Zealand and there was something so centring about having a cat purring on your lap while you were sipping a flat white. Although when one decided my braid was a plaything that wasn’t so fun. Who knew getting a kitten out of your hair could be so difficult?’ Poppy’s braid swayed as she shook her head. ‘We could do it, you know. Adopt some cats and kittens. A gourmet tea shop with kittens running amuck sounds pretty fab.’

Ben forced himself not to rise to the bait. Poppy had always known how to press his buttons – had been amused by how he toed the line compared to her freedom-loving ways. She, more than anyone, knew he wouldn’t have time for the frivolity of kittens and cats skittering through a store, let alone time for cleaning up after them and maintaining their health.