Welcome to Rosie Hopkins' Sweet Shop of Dreams
Page 102

She marched up with him into the dentist’s, absolutely furious.
‘Ah, the young sugar addict,’ said Roy, his sparkling gnashers on display and his pristine uniform buttoned up to his neck. ‘Your mother said she’d be in in five minutes.’
‘She’s doing her meditates,’ said Edison.
‘Very good, very good,’ said Roy.
‘I’m here though,’ said Rosie.
Roy looked at her.
‘Here to accept my offer?’
Edison jumped up on the dentist’s chair.
‘I am going into space,’ he announced loudly. ‘Hello, space. Countdown is progressing. We are OK to go.’
‘Don’t touch anything,’ said Roy.
‘I’m going to stay for Edison’s examination,’ said Rosie. ‘He wants me here.’
‘Ten,’ said Edison. ‘Nine.’
Roy’s face fell immediately.
‘Just to make sure he doesn’t have any unnecessary work done.’ Rosie was staring him straight in the face. ‘You hear a lot about that with dentists these days,’ she said. ‘Of course you would never do that.’
‘Eight … seven.’
‘I’ll be a lot happier when you’re no longer around here making trouble, Miss Hopkins.’
‘Well, I don’t know about that,’ said Rosie, as he picked up his mirror and tiny pointed probe. ‘You see, I’ve had a little stroke of luck. Finally.’
‘Six … five.’
‘My ex is selling our flat and moving in with his new girlfriend.’
‘Aww, you can’t hold on to your man,’ sneered Roy, moving around.
‘Four … three.’
‘And he’s giving me my share of the proceeds. Very fairly in fact. He didn’t have to.’
Gerard’s grace, in the end, had overwhelmed her. She knew it had a lot to do with him not wanting confrontation, and wanting to get on with moving in with Yolande. It turned out she had a proper little house with a garden in Bow, and cooked a mean chilli con carne and his mother absolutely loved her. She had been happy for him. But for him to give Rosie a share of the profits, rather than just what she’d put in, was more than kind. It was charming. And just like him. All the good things, she’d remembered, not just his annoying habits that had worn her down. She had been right to love him. He was worthy of it. She hadn’t set her sights too low. Not at all.
Finally, Rosie swallowed and said what she had come to say.
‘So I’m buying the shop. I’m buying the shop and running it and I’ll rent half the cottage and that will be enough to cover it all and get Lilian into the nice home. If she wants to go. She doesn’t know she wants to go, but she does really. So you can’t have it.’
‘Two … one …’
Roy looked at her, startled.
‘You can stuff your new surgery. I’m keeping it.’
‘Blastoff,’ shouted Edison, spraying a whole load of spit over Roy’s face. Rosie smiled at the boy.
‘Get down,’ barked Roy. ‘There’s nothing wrong with your teeth. Tell your mother I’ll send her the bill.’
Edison jumped off and pretended he was in space, careering around in orbit. Rosie couldn’t help giggling as he knocked into trays of instruments.
‘Careful!’ she said.
‘And you too,’ she said with a backward glance at Roy as she left the surgery. ‘There’re a lot of overcharging dentists doing unnecessary work these days. I’ll be telling everyone to keep an eye out for it.’
Rosie ran into Hester in the street outside. She was wearing her usual expression of smug calm.
‘Sorry,’ said Rosie. She pasted the biggest, brightest smile on her face so Edison, still careering up and down being in a spaceship, wouldn’t realise what she was saying. ‘I don’t mean to be rude. But if you let your gorgeous, charming, delightful six-year-old roam the streets alone one more time instead of behaving like a proper mother, I’m reporting you to social services.’
Hester took a step back, her mouth falling open. Rosie ruffled Edison’s hair and marched on up the street.
‘Come and visit me soon,’ she hollered to Edison. ‘We’ll watch Star Wars.’
‘What’s Star Wars?’
‘You’ll like it.’
Up towards the turn-off, Rosie spied something that at first didn’t make sense. It looked like two old men walking … but also someone very familiar. It took a second for her vision to crystallise and then she realised who it was. It was Peter Isitt, walking … with Stephen. They both had long walking sticks carved from something that looked ancient, and they were proceeding very slowly up the road.
Rosie looked around. Either she could slow to a crawl, which would probably mean Roy coming out of his office to harangue her again, or run past them, which would be weird. London was always full of people hurtling down the streets, whether they were jogging or mugging or trying to catch a bus. Here nobody ran. Everyone ambled; there was no point in running if you were going to get caught up behind a flock of sheep and anyway, what was the rush? There was always work to be done, and it would keep. The rhythm of the earth was more important; the seasons and the weather. So Rosie tried to keep up her normal pace, hoping she wouldn’t get noticed. As usual, in a village, this didn’t exactly work.
‘Hi, Rosie!’ called Anton cheerily from the top of the high street. He held his belt open. ‘Look! Look! I have space in my trousers!’
The two men turned to look as Rosie felt her face redden.
‘I … I …’ She hurried towards Anton. ‘That’s great news.’
Anton beamed. ‘And it’s down to you! I decided just to eat one of everything! So on Monday I have one fish and chips and on Tuesday I have one burger and chips and on Wednesday I have one chicken and chips and on Thursday I have one sausage and chips and …’
He was continuing, but Rosie hushed him.
‘That’s not exactly what I had in mind,’ she began, but then, seeing his fallen face, consoled him. ‘Well, if it’s working for you, that’s fantastic.’
‘I know,’ said Anton. ‘Can I have some fudge?’
‘When you’re in trousers you can buy from a shop,’ said Rosie. ‘A real shop. Trousers with buttons.’