Gloria looked at the shop’s window, assessing it for any dirt that could mar the excellent window display, which was all flowers and pink prettiness in readiness for Mother’s Day in a couple of weeks. Gloria’s niece, Louise, had decorated the window on Saturday, bringing early roses from her own garden and tying cunning little paper flowers to each corner of the window with ribbons fluttering down. Like everything Lou did, it was completed quickly, without fuss – and afterwards, Lou had determinedly waved away thanks.
‘It’s nothing,’ she said, standing back as Gloria and Aoife, who was the shop’s manager, admired the window.
‘It’s not nothing,’ Gloria replied, patting her niece gently on the shoulder with a thin hand. ‘It’s beautiful.’
‘Gloria, stop,’ said Lou, blushing. ‘Anyone could do it.’
‘But anyone didn’t. You did it.’
Even though Lou had a full-time job, a daughter, and countless else to do besides, she had come to help – while Lillian had declared herself far too busy sculpting. And why should Lillian exert herself for others when she had Lou to do her charity work for her?
Gloria closed her eyes and said a quick prayer for forgiveness. It was a prayer she said a lot, and almost always about Lillian. When Bob and Lillian had become engaged, Gloria had made a promise to her dear mother, always to be kind to her.
‘She’s not like our family, but Bob loves her,’ her mother had said, and Gloria had agreed.
She was as kind to Lillian as she could be. It wasn’t always easy. After what Lillian had done, all those years ago, Gloria hadn’t thought she would ever speak to her again. But there hadn’t been an angry word between them for years now. They had buried the past with great success and now there were only three people alive who knew the whole story – or perhaps only two – and that was for the best. Her nieces could never know.
Gloria sighed. It was better that way. Far better for all concerned.
‘Miss Cooper! You shouldn’t be cleaning the door and windows,’ said Aoife, the shop’s perky manager, arriving now with her rucksack and the inevitable black sack of donations – when a person worked in a charity shop, everyone and their lawyer had a black sack of old clothes for them.
‘It was a five-minute job,’ said Gloria easily. ‘I wouldn’t have done it if I hadn’t felt able.’
‘But you’re—’
Gloria smiled. ‘Old? Yes, Aoife, I know. Rubbing a cloth over the glass in the shop door isn’t going to make me older. I love the town in the morning. When you’re quietly outside, everyone passes by, nobody notices you and you hear all the news.’
‘What news?’ asked Aoife, following the slightly stooped figure into the shop.
Gloria adored Aoife, who she knew considered Gloria a beloved relic of the past – a being who might drop dead at the drop of a hat. Young people were very scared about the elderly, Gloria found.
Aoife often worried when Gloria had one of her chests and fretted about her tripping over Sugar, Gloria’s tiny dog. At her age, Gloria found there was no point in worrying anymore.
‘There’s great chat about the party on Friday,’ said Gloria now. ‘Half the town thinks it’s Lillian’s party and she’s being presented with some award. The other half think it’s Toni and Oliver’s bash and that most of the glitterati will be there.’
‘But it’s Lou’s fiftieth,’ said Aoife. ‘Don’t people know that?’
‘Apparently not. There are people in life who get overlooked,’ said Gloria.
‘How could anyone overlook Lou? She’s an angel.’
Gloria bent very slowly to attach Sugar’s pink tartan lead to her pink tartan harness. Sugar was a rescue dog: part chihuahua, part mystery. She was small, white, soft as an eider duck, quivered a lot and had great big eyes that spoke of early cruelty. Gloria idolised her and Sugar idolised her mistress in return.
Sugar was a wise little dog and adored Lou. She sensed the gentleness and fragility that other people usually missed when it came to Gloria’s niece.
‘That’s the crux, isn’t it,’ said Gloria to Aoife, picking up Sugar. ‘Nobody ever sees angels or notices what they do.’
Aoife nodded.
‘And sometimes,’ Gloria went on thoughtfully, ‘even angels get fed up.’
Chapter Three
Lou repeated her mantra as she drove to her mother’s house on Wednesday evening: ‘The universe will provide, the universe will provide.’
She hadn’t told anyone about not getting the strategy job. Not her family. Not Ned, who was planning a trip to Munich for an engineering conference the following week and was so busy that he hadn’t mentioned her birthday party or what present he was getting her. Not Emily, who had a college assignment due and who was coming home on Thursday night to be with her mother for the big celebration. And Lou had definitely not told Toni, who would undoubtedly explain where Lou had gone wrong in her approach to the entire thing. If Toni had worked for Blossom, it would be multi-national by now and Toni would be managing it from a yacht somewhere as well as running for president of Ireland in between writing her memoirs. No, Toni definitely didn’t need to know that Lou hadn’t been hired for a job she was basically already doing. It was too humiliating.
The worst moment had been when Bettina had hugged Lou sympathetically, reassuring her that she would like the new employee, the one with the degree who apparently knew way more than Lou.
