Fern looked up to see Amelia standing in front of her. She smiled, pulling out a chair and sitting down. ‘How’s life in No. 17 Curiosity Lane?’
Fern took a slow sip of coffee, then placed the cup on the table. ‘Well, it comes with a gorilla named Gerald who watches over the shop; he’s very protective of his porcelain kingdom. There’s also a moose’s head looming over the bed, so each morning I’ve woken up to the haunting gaze of a woodland beast. Oh, and the best part? It came with a free man.’
Amelia choked on a laugh. ‘A free man?’
‘Yes. Tall, blond, irritating, humorous. Plays guitar. Thinks he can convince people to buy, and I quote, “junk”.’
Amelia grinned. ‘Ah, Daniel. And how’s that going?’
‘He’s given me a proposal.’
Amelia’s eyebrows shot up. ‘Well, that was fast.’
Fern laughed. ‘Not that kind of proposal. He wants me to hold off on selling the shop for a month, let him prove he can make it work.’
Amelia leaned back, considering. ‘What do you think? Is that an option, or do you really want to get rid of it?’
Fern glanced towards the bay, the glistening water, the peaceful lull of the island. A month. It wasn’t that long, was it?
She sighed. ‘I think I might be going mad because I’m actually considering it.’
Amelia smiled. ‘Ha! Puffin Island has already lured you in.’
‘I’ve got one week’s leave to try and sort everything out. I thought I would organise someone to clear the shop then put it up for sale, but now…’
‘What if Daniel can make it work?’
‘If he was serious about it, why hasn’t he made it work before?’
Amelia shrugged. ‘Maybe he didn’t want to stand on Matilda’s toes. He was there for her right up to the very end. It could just be that she was more important to him than actually making money. He’s a decent person, fitted straight into this community when he arrived. Matilda met him at an antique fair, and she definitely had a soft spot for him. It was an unlikely friendship, but they really did hit it off. I suppose, thinking about it, he didn’t have a chance to try and make it a success until now. After all, it was her shop.’
Fern understood. ‘What would you do?’
‘I’m biased.’ Amelia smiled. ‘There is something special about this place and if you have a chance to stay and live on the island, I would say you’ve won the lottery. Not many places come up for sale here, and with No. 17 Curiosity Lane you get both accommodation and the business. Granted, it may not be to your taste, but you could easily turn it around. If antiques isn’t your thing, could you turn it into something else? It’s in a prime location. Maybe give it some time, and if you still feel like you want to sell, at least you will know it’s the right decision because it wasn’t rushed. See what Daniel can do. What do you have to lose?’
Ten minutes later, Fern was making her way back to the shop with Amelia’s words still firmly on her mind. What did she have to lose? As she pushed open the door, she was half expecting Daniel to be lounging around somewhere with his usual smirk, but the shop was silent. She dropped her bag onto the counter and shouted out to him but there was no answer. After grabbing a glass of water and her laptop Fern sat down at the desk with only one thing on her mind, something she had been meaning to do since she arrived– digging into Matilda Hartley’s past.
Opening her laptop, Fern typed ‘Matilda Hartley Puffin Island’ into the search bar and hit enter. Immediately, dozens of results surfaced, and she clicked through them, scanning headlines. The usual obituaries, property records and old business listings were there, but then she spotted something more intriguing, a decades-old article from thePuffin Island Gazettetitled ‘A London Musician Trades Her Notes for Nostalgia’.
Fern clicked the link, her heart beating faster as an image loaded at the top of the article, a grainy black-and-white photograph of a young woman standing in front of No. 17 Curiosity Lane. At a guess she was in her early twenties, the same age Fern had been when she first started making a name for herself in music journalism.
The woman in the photograph had sharp cheekbones, unruly waves of dark hair and a gaze that would melt hearts.
She began reading the article.
Matilda Hartley was a promising student, sweeping every award for her compositions at the London School of Music. She was destined for stardom, and her lecturers predicted she would take the music world by storm. But just as all eyes turned to her, Matilda made an unexpected move, trading future concert halls for curiosities. She turned her grandmother’s holiday cottage into No. 17 Curiosity Lane in the heart of Puffin Island, where the rhythm of her days is set not by music, but by the quiet intrigue of forgotten treasures.
Fern wondered why Matilda left music behind. If she had been destined for stardom and, it seemed, had the world of her feet, why would she choose to open a shop full of old junk?
Further down the article, a more personal note caught her attention:
Hartley turned her back on the music world under circumstances she prefers to keep private. When pressed, she simply said, ‘Sometimes the past must stay buried.’
Scrolling further, Fern found numerous articles highlighting Matilda’s extraordinary talent during her years at music school. Even from a young age, Matilda had shown remarkable versatility; not only was she a gifted pianist and singer, but also a budding composer whose original pieces, written during her college years, earned praise from seasoned professionals. Her college performances, both solo and with ensembles, regularly drew large audiences, and often filled local concert halls to capacity. Critics lauded her as a prodigy, frequently noting the emotional depth and technical mastery that set her apart from her peers. She became a regular fixture at regional music competitions, taking home first-place awards and scholarships year after year. Teachers spoke of her as a once-in-a-generation talent, and there was a growing sense among the music community that Matilda was destined for international stages. Fern couldn’t find any reason why she had given everything up to open a shop filled with junk. It just didn’t make sense to her.
There was still no sign of Daniel. She wanted him to walk through the door so she could ask him whether Matilda had shared anything about her past with him. Surely they must have had some conversations about it? Closing the laptop, she stood and moved through the shop, running her fingers over the oddities Matilda had collected over the years. She was now genuinely intrigued by her great-aunt.
Fern’s gaze landed on a small wooden box, its lid slightly ajar. Inside, a pair of wedding rings rested on a velvet cushion, the worn metal inscribed with initials. Next to it was a stack of old books, their pages yellowed with age. She pulled one free, dust rising as she opened it. Further along, she delved into a pile of faded pamphlets, when she noticed an old vinyl record tucked between them. It looked immaculate. The name on the sleeve made her pause.Nathaniel Loring.Fern knew Nathaniel Loring’s name. He was extremely famous in his day and as a music journalist she was familiar with his work. She studied it; it looked like new. The song title was ‘Echoes of the Past’.Fern recognised it as his debut song, the one that had catapulted him into the limelight and ensured every other song he released charted instantly.
