Zofia’s eyes light up. ‘I can see it now! Readers filling pots with compost, readers planting seeds, readers with watering cans. You must come and take pictures this afternoon!’
I’m beaming. ‘Those herbs definitely make the kitchen a happier place.’ I catch sight of Miles looking at the ceiling. ‘Don’t knock it, Miles, anything this feel-good has to be positive.’
As I think of Scarlett and Tate, who may never enjoy this place together again, there’s a pang in my chest.
Miles raises his finger. ‘Have you told Zofia your news?’
‘My news?’ As he and I haven’t acknowledged Scarlett and Tate’s rift, I’m surprised he’s talking about it now. ‘I was hoping to keep that on the back burner until it’s more public.’
Zofia laughs. ‘Nothing is secret in St Aidan! I’m sorry, a little bird already told me– you’ve taken a workspace at the Net Loft!’
‘Thatnews!’
Miles nods. ‘Betsy Bets is opening a postcard shop. How brilliant is that?’
Seeing Zofia reminds me of all the honesty box outlets in her village, and before I know I’m extending my make-believe mission statement. ‘It’s very early days, but I’d love to bring a garden-gate vibe into town too if I can find the right things to sell.’
Zofia looks thoughtful. ‘It’s very a big space to fill if you’reonlydoing postcards.’
I’m looking at the deep green of her parsley and remembering her greenhouses and cold frames full of cuttings. ‘If you’d like to sell some of your plants, I could try those? And your cut flowers would fit in too.’
She beams at me. ‘Magnificent! I’ll give you my very best price!’ Her smile widens. ‘And the same little bird said you’ve been selling those pastries you make too, but I also know that from my vacuuming.’ She laughs. ‘So pastries, flowers, plants and postcards? That sounds like a good mix.’
I hold up my hand. ‘The pastries aren’t for the shop. They’re Miles’s personal business project. He’s taking those straight to national franchise level.’
Zofia frowns at him. ‘Are you sure?’
I might as well explain. ‘There’s small business, like I would be, then there’s big business like B&Q, then there’s Miles.’ I pull a face. ‘We’re galaxies apart in our ethos.’
Miles gives a cough. ‘It’s not that bad, Betsy Eliza.’
It is. In fact it’s probably worse, which reminds me. ‘Yesterday’s takings from the beach are in the fruit bowl under the apples, Miles.’
Miles holds up a finger. ‘While I’m working on my product development, all my costs will be absorbed down the line.’
Zofia winks at me. ‘So many big words, you’re right to say he’s ready to take over the world.’
I’m yawning at the office talk. ‘And I need to know this because…?’
He’s blinking at me. ‘I should have made this clear before. Any money you collect from sales is yours to keep.’ He shrugs. ‘That way it leaves me free to concentrate on the range. You’ll be doing me a favour.’
I can’t quite believe my luck, and I’m not about to refuse, so I offer the best I can from my side. ‘In return I promise to bring you every scrap of feedback.’
‘That’s good enough for me.’ He’s rubbing his hands. ‘So the next important thing– what about fittings for the Net Loft?’
Zofia sends me another look. ‘His ethos might be up the spout, but we can’t fault his enthusiasm.’
‘I’ve already got the postcard stand.’ I’m thinking of the village shop boxes. ‘The rest will be freestanding. I’ll start with a couple of tables for the plants and add more if I need them.’
Zofia nods. ‘I’ll see what I have in the outhouses at the Manor.’
Miles is nodding too. ‘My mum has planks in her garage. I can knock together any shelving you want.’
I can’t believe how far this has come in five minutes. ‘Well, thank you both for your help.’ I’m summarising. ‘I’ll see what’s at yours, Zofia, when I come to take pictures for the herb growing. If it’s okay with you, I’ll quiz you about the fruit trees while I’m there.’ Fenna’s given me an open order for pieces featuring apples. Pies, crumbles, cider makers, picking, growing them– apples are so versatile and universal, readers can’t get enough of them.
Zofia is collecting her cloths and putting them into her buckets, then she looks up. ‘Before I go… is Scarlett okay?’ She hesitates. ‘It’s just that I had a message last night saying she and Tate were splitting up, but to carry on with my cleans as normal.’
My intake of breath is so big, I’m still grasping to find the right words when Miles steps in.
