Edgar tilted his head. ‘Not easily. If you were to sell, the new owner would have to honour Daniel’s tenancy unless he willingly agreed to leave. You could always consider offering him a settlement to vacate, but knowing Daniel, I doubt he’d take it. He’s not motivated by money and is very attached to the place.’
‘So, I’m stuck with a shop I don’t want and a tenant who refuses to leave?’
Edgar smiled kindly. ‘I wouldn’t say stuck, Miss Talbot. You have options. You could try working with Daniel, see if there’s a middle ground. Maybe he could manage the shop for you. Who knows? Perhaps you’ll come to see No. 17 Curiosity Lane the way Matilda did.’
‘It seems I don’t have much choice.’
‘There’s always a choice,’ Edgar said gently. ‘But sometimes it’s not the one we expect. Is there anything else I can help you with today?’
She hesitated before shaking her head and standing. ‘Actually, can I ask you something?’
‘Of course.’
‘How long have you lived on the island?’
‘All my life. Why do you ask?’
‘Something out of the ordinary happened this morning. An antique wedding dress was left in a bin bag on the shop’s doorstep. There was a note attached, with just three words:Find the groom.I’m not sure what to do about it.’
Edgar’s brows lifted slightly. ‘That iscryptic. If anyone can help you, it’s Dorothy. She lives in one of the rainbow cottages on Lighthouse Lane, the bright blue one. She was the island’s seamstress for decades, made more wedding dresses than she could count. She’s retired, but if she didn’t make the dress herself, she might still recognise who did and point you in the right direction.’
‘I’ll try Dorothy, thank you.’
Fern stepped out of the office, not knowing quite how she felt. The shop wasn’t just bricks and mortar; it had a history, a stubborn tenant and now a mystery. The idea of selling it hadseemed straightforward, but it was quickly becoming anything but.
ChapterNineteen
The timing couldn’t have been any worse if she’d tried. Daniel had just finished chatting to the postman when Fern walked out of the front door of Edgar’s office, and they locked eyes for just a moment before he looked up at the solicitor’s sign flapping in the breeze.
Damn. She could feel the guilt written all over her face.
‘You’ve been to see Edgar then?’ he said flatly.
Fern hesitated. ‘Daniel…’
He bristled. ‘You went to him for advice, didn’t you? To get me out. You’re trying to sell this place.’
Fern exhaled, steeling herself. ‘I was just weighing up my options. I thought it was the responsible thing to do.’
‘I have a legal tenancy agreement.’
‘I know, and I’m sure we are able to work something out.’
His voice rose slightly with frustration and what sounded like a bit of hurt. ‘You haven’t even given me a month. I thought we had an agreement. But no, you waltz in here, thinking you know best, when really you don’t have a clue about this place. What it means to me. What it meant to Matilda.’
‘Shall we take this inside?’ she suggested gently. ‘We don’t need to have this conversation for the whole of Puffin Island to hear.’
Daniel stepped inside the shop, leaned against the desk and stared at her. He clearly wasn’t going to make this easy for her.
‘I’m trying to be practical! Just look at this logically for a second. The shop barely gets customers, Daniel, and even when it does, it’s not making enough income to keep it afloat long-term. How can you not see that?’
‘Oh, I see plenty,’ he shot back. ‘I see that you don’t want to try. That you’d rather run back to London and leave all this behind because it’s messy and unpredictable and doesn’t fit into your perfectly organised life.’
‘That’s not fair,’ she protested, though secretly she could see his point.
Daniel exhaled sharply, raking a hand through his hair. ‘What about us?’ he asked, his voice quieter now. ‘What happens to us?’
Fern’s stomach tightened. ‘Daniel… this… this… is…’ She fell silent.
