Page 59 of The Little Shop of Curiosities Cursed Object 1, The Music Box

“But just tell me–”

“Bye, love you both. I’ll call soon.” I blow them a kiss and end the call before either of them can say anything else.

Slipping my phone into my pocket, I rise from the stool I was sat at in front of my workbench and pick up the parcel of herbs I had just finished putting together.

Smoothing down my sweater, I head out into the shop and smile at my customer. “Good morning, Mrs Clement. I have your order right here.”

I set the wrapped parcel on the desk and greet the middle-aged woman who has arrived. Her hair is styled in a no-nonsense bob, wearing a neatly belted raincoat, and sensible shoes. She looks more like she should be chairing the PTA than simmering herbs over a two-hundred-year-old cauldron, which I know for a fact she has because I sourced it for her.

“Good morning, Harrison dear. Did you manage to get everything? Are they stronger than the last batch? For some reason, the tea didn’t work as well as it has previously.”

“It’s a good batch, I promise, but you might want to let it steep for longer. Overnight would be best.”

“Hmm, perhaps you’re right.” She hums. “I was rather short on time with the last one. Put it on my account, will you, dear?”

“Of course.” I make a note in my ledger. “Payment will be due at the end of the month.”

“Excellent.” She nods. “I may have a couple more requests. I’ll give you a call later once I’ve made a list.”

“I’ll look forward to it.”

She smiles. “It’s so nice to have a good supplier. I’m very glad you moved to London.”

“Thank you, that’s very kind.”

“Well, I must be off.” She scoops up the package. “You have a good day, Harrison.”

“You, too.” I offer a polite smile as she heads for the door. Once she opens it, she steps back, allowing another person to enter.

“Oh, thank you.” He peers over his misted-up glasses and tries to wipe away the raindrops rolling down his nose.

“No problem,” Mrs Clement replies. “The weather’s bloody awful, isn’t it? Still, I’m sure the Goddess knows what she’s doing. Well, blessed be,” she says by way of farewell.

“Uh…and also with you…” He waves awkwardly as Mrs Clement pulls up her hood and steps through the door, closing it behind her.

“Tristan?” I greet as he turns around and pulls his hood back.

“Harrison, I need–”

“I’m here! Don’t panic, boo! Dusty’s got you!” Dusty’s voice rings out loudly, cutting off Tristan’s sentence as she appears beside him.

“Dusty?” He frowns. “I thought you were with Bruce. What are you doing here?”

“You sent up a bat signal.” She fists her hand on her hip and flips her hair.

“I…what?”

“I’m your spirit guide, remember?” she states with an implied Duh! “I can feel when there’s something wrong with you, and a short while ago, you went into a panic the likes of which I’ve only ever seen when Ruby ate some bad sushi and almost couldn’t get her taping off in time. Then you got really mad about something, and that’s not like you. You’re one of the most placid little twinks I’ve ever known.”

“I’m not a twink,” he says flatly.

“Sure, you’re not.” She smirks.

I sigh loudly, interrupting them. “Is there a reason I’m being subjected to the two of you cluttering up my shop with your inane bickering?”

“Yes. I–” Once again Tristan is cut off as the door opens behind him and bangs into his back. My mouth falls open as he spins around and grabs the door handle, stopping the man from entering. “Sorry, we’re closed for a staff meeting. Please come back in an hour.”

The man blinks and then mutters an irritated, “Well, I never!” and walks away.