Welcome to Rosie Hopkins' Sweet Shop of Dreams
Page 54

Now, hopefully our bovine friends will have left this book behind. To all sensible people, may I recommend a Mint Imperial?
Rosie didn’t notice Lilian straight away for the very good reason that her view was blocked by Anton, the obese man she’d helped Moray treat. He’d arrived ten minutes before, with a walker heavily set in front of him.
‘Hello, Anton!’ she said, delighted. ‘You’re out of the house!’
Anton smiled shyly, his chins wobbling in a pleased fashion. ‘You recognised me!’
Rosie swallowed a giggle.
‘Yes, Anton, I recognised you. And well done for getting out of the house! That’s brilliant!’
Anton beamed. ‘Yeah, well, Chrissie said … she said it might be about time. She also said if I manage to get up and down the high street she’ll take me to McDonald’s.’
Rosie looked at him severely. ‘Isn’t that one step forward, two steps back?’
‘Oh no,’ said Anton. ‘I already eat lots of McDonald’s. I’m just really excited by the idea that I might get to eat a hot one. By the time they reach Lipton they’re always cold.’
‘Everyone needs a dream,’ said Rosie. ‘And look, this is mine. What do you think?’
Anton looked around, noticing but not mentioning that there didn’t seem to be a chair, and when you were somewhere nice like this, there ought to be a chair.
‘I think,’ he pronounced carefully, ‘I think it is one of the nicest places I’ve ever been to. It hasn’t changed at all.’
Rosie decided not to mention that it had changed, then she’d changed it back again.
‘I know,’ she said. ‘Would you like one of our free lollies? Please have blackcurrant, none of the children like it.’
‘Ergh,’ said Anton. ‘No thanks. Bit too fruity. Got any chocolate?’
‘Where’s Chrissie?’
‘She’s driving the car down to the other end of the street. She said it’ll make me walk.’ He looked around again. ‘It’s a shame you don’t have a chair in here. I could stay all day.’
Rosie made a private note not to bring out a chair.
‘Also she says she has to pop into the garage and ask them something about the suspension.’ Anton’s eyes rose up the shelves. ‘Oh wow,’ he said. ‘I don’t know what to have.’
There was no one else in the shop. Rosie leaned forward.
‘Tell you what,’ she said. ‘Just for you – and I wouldn’t do this for anyone else – how about I give you a small selection? One of each, in a little bag.’
‘I was thinking,’ said Anton, ‘about maybe two pounds of butter fudge. And a pound of tablet. And—’
‘But with this,’ said Rosie persuasively, ‘you get to try a little taster of absolutely everything. Without overdoing it. Just a tiny delicious taste, like pick ’n’ mix. For after your tea.’
Anton looked unconvinced, and gave a hopeful glance towards the Turkish delight tray.
‘And some of that,’ he said.
‘A tiny, teeny taste,’ said Rosie.
The door clanged and Moray walked in, his usual amused look on his face. Rosie smiled at him, then remembered she’d put the mob cap back on again when she was dishing out chocolate and snatched it off her head. Moray grinned.
‘I like the way you dress,’ he observed. ‘Every day is an adventure.’ He glanced around. ‘Morning, Anton.’
‘Miss Rosie was just saying I could have any sweets I wanted from the whole shop,’ said Anton.
‘Was she?’ said Moray with a querying look.
‘Not quite like that,’ said Rosie. ‘We’re just going to have a little taste, aren’t we, Anton?’
‘I suppose so,’ said Anton, whose knees were giving him gyp, and who hated conflict of any kind.
‘You’re quite the talk of the surgery, Rosie,’ said Moray. ‘Maeve came and shared all her treats with us. Someone else I couldn’t possibly mention shut his surgery door and ate all his on his own. Anyway, I thought I’d pop in to say congratulations.’
‘Thank you,’ said Rosie. ‘Would you like a blackcurrant lolly?’
‘God, no,’ said Moray. ‘Got any strawberry?’
I have so much to learn, said Rosie to herself, handing it over. ‘Nice to see you.’
But Moray wasn’t looking at her, he was gazing at the shelves.
‘Are those …’ His face suddenly looked disarmingly young. ‘Are those bubble-gum Golf Balls?’
‘They certainly are,’ said Rosie.
Moray shook his head. ‘I haven’t seen those for … well, for a long time.’
‘Would you like one?’
Moray was still shaking his head. ‘We used to share them at school. And fight like mad if there was an uneven number, or if we burst each other’s bubbles.’
‘Who’s we?’ asked Rosie, but Moray was caught in a flood of reminiscence. Then he snapped himself out of it.
‘Doesn’t matter,’ he said. ‘No one important.’
‘But would you like some?’
Moray shrugged. ‘All right, I’ll take two.’
‘I always serve my sweets in even numbers,’ said Rosie severely. ‘Small, medium or large?’
‘I hate that question,’ said Moray, flirtatiously. Rosie grinned, and made up two bags, one with a smattering of everything for Anton, which both Moray and Anton watched like hawks, and one with some Golf Balls, which Rosie handed over with a smile, then put out her hand for the shiny pound coins.
‘Thanks,’ said Anton, making to turn his body round.
‘No problem,’ said Rosie. ‘And Anton, please don’t finish them before …’
But the doorbell had already tinged, and Anton had his big paw inside the incongruously small-looking bag.
‘Oh well,’ said Rosie. ‘It’s a start.’ Then she noticed, where he had been, the tiny figure of Lilian.
‘Lilian!’ she said, delighted and worried again for her great-aunt, who looked even smaller outside the low-beamed cottage. ‘I lied earlier,’ she said. ‘I do have a chair. Hang on.’ And she disappeared through into the back room.
‘Hello, Miss Hopkins, how are you keeping?’ said Moray.