been anything other than the cause of any amount of heartbreak.
I doubt if you’d understand for a minute how Brian feels, or me, for that matter.
‘I can be sensitive when needed, you know,’ Dexter said, as if he’d read her mind. ‘I’m not as bad as people think.’
Not sure that she believed him, and very aware that every female in the shop stopped and stared at him as she manoeuvred Dexter
through the throng towards Brian, Frankie decided to ignore what might be pretty dangerous ground. ‘Whatever. Handsome is
as handsome does, as my gran always says.’
‘Mine too.’ Dexter nodded innocently. ‘I never understood it.’
Exchanging an eye-meet with a giggling Lilly across the shop, Frankie tapped Brian on the shoulder. ‘Brian, I’ve got someone
to introduce to you.’
‘Have you, gel?’ Brian peered at her. ‘That’s nice. I like meeting people.’
Dexter held out his hand. ‘Hi, Brian. I’m Dexter. I’m new round here and I’m going to need your help.’
Nicely done, Frankie thought grudgingly, leaving Brian excitedly agreeing to be Dexter’s navigator to Winterbrook.
In fact, she thought, looking round the shop, the whole evening was going very nicely indeed. It was far better than she’d
ever hoped. Maybe Francesca’s Fabulous Frocks really would be open by the weekend.
The door rattled and then swung open, allowing yet more of the storm to billow icily inside.
‘Hello, sweetheart. Am I too late?’ A plump and slightly bedraggled figure, draped in a voluminous raincoat with a massive
hood over her cauliflower-head perm, and swaying on ridiculously high leopardskin shoes, peered into the shop. ‘I couldn’t
get a taxi for love nor money. It’s the weather, you see. Everyone wants taxis on nights like this. Still, I’m here now. I’m
Maisie, sweetheart. Maisie Fairbrother.’
‘Oh, yes. Brian said you were on your way. No, of course you’re not too late.’ Frankie pulled the door open wide. ‘It’s lovely
to meet you and so kind of you to offer to help. Come along in and meet the crowd.’
Tossing back the raincoat’s hood, Maisie Fairbrother stepped into the shop.
And screamed.
Conversations died. Laughter petered away. Giggles ceased. Everyone stopped what they were doing and stared towards Maisie
and Frankie in the doorway.
‘Are you all right?’ Frankie asked anxiously. ‘What’s the matter?’
‘Oooh,’ Maisie gasped, striking her forehead with the back of her hand in a dramatic fashion. ‘Oh my word … I’ve come over
all faint, sweetheart. Completely light-headed. It always happens … ’
This, Frankie reckoned, must be the trouble Brian had hinted at. Great. Maybe Maisie was shop-phobic or something.
‘Let me get you a chair? A glass of water?’
Maisie shook her head weakly. ‘No, no … They won’t help. Oh, my word, can’t you see them, sweetheart? So many of them. They’re
everywhere.’
Was it agoraphobia? Frankie wondered. It must be the shop heaving with people that had brought on this panic attack. Maisie
was still leaning heavily against the door for support.
‘People?’ She looked worriedly at Maisie. ‘Well, yes, but they’re all friends. They’re all here to help.’
‘I know that.’ Maisie’s voice was barely a whisper. ‘That’s not what I’m talking about, sweetheart. Oh, this is unbelievable.’
At a complete loss and mentally cursing Brian for even mentioning the clear-out to Maisie who was clearly not a wellperson, Frankie patted Maisie’s damp shoulders. ‘I’m sorry, I’m not sure what’s wrong. Do you have a problem with crowds?
Shall I get someone to run you home if you don’t like being amongst all these people?’
Maisie shook her head, whimpered, and slumped a bit more. ‘Maybe a nice cup of tea?’ Frankie was rapidly running out of her
caring repertoire. And everyone else was still silently staring. Surely someone was a first-aider or something? ‘A cup of
tea,
I doubt if you’d understand for a minute how Brian feels, or me, for that matter.
‘I can be sensitive when needed, you know,’ Dexter said, as if he’d read her mind. ‘I’m not as bad as people think.’
Not sure that she believed him, and very aware that every female in the shop stopped and stared at him as she manoeuvred Dexter
through the throng towards Brian, Frankie decided to ignore what might be pretty dangerous ground. ‘Whatever. Handsome is
as handsome does, as my gran always says.’
‘Mine too.’ Dexter nodded innocently. ‘I never understood it.’
Exchanging an eye-meet with a giggling Lilly across the shop, Frankie tapped Brian on the shoulder. ‘Brian, I’ve got someone
to introduce to you.’
‘Have you, gel?’ Brian peered at her. ‘That’s nice. I like meeting people.’
Dexter held out his hand. ‘Hi, Brian. I’m Dexter. I’m new round here and I’m going to need your help.’
Nicely done, Frankie thought grudgingly, leaving Brian excitedly agreeing to be Dexter’s navigator to Winterbrook.
In fact, she thought, looking round the shop, the whole evening was going very nicely indeed. It was far better than she’d
ever hoped. Maybe Francesca’s Fabulous Frocks really would be open by the weekend.
The door rattled and then swung open, allowing yet more of the storm to billow icily inside.
‘Hello, sweetheart. Am I too late?’ A plump and slightly bedraggled figure, draped in a voluminous raincoat with a massive
hood over her cauliflower-head perm, and swaying on ridiculously high leopardskin shoes, peered into the shop. ‘I couldn’t
get a taxi for love nor money. It’s the weather, you see. Everyone wants taxis on nights like this. Still, I’m here now. I’m
Maisie, sweetheart. Maisie Fairbrother.’
‘Oh, yes. Brian said you were on your way. No, of course you’re not too late.’ Frankie pulled the door open wide. ‘It’s lovely
to meet you and so kind of you to offer to help. Come along in and meet the crowd.’
Tossing back the raincoat’s hood, Maisie Fairbrother stepped into the shop.
And screamed.
Conversations died. Laughter petered away. Giggles ceased. Everyone stopped what they were doing and stared towards Maisie
and Frankie in the doorway.
‘Are you all right?’ Frankie asked anxiously. ‘What’s the matter?’
‘Oooh,’ Maisie gasped, striking her forehead with the back of her hand in a dramatic fashion. ‘Oh my word … I’ve come over
all faint, sweetheart. Completely light-headed. It always happens … ’
This, Frankie reckoned, must be the trouble Brian had hinted at. Great. Maybe Maisie was shop-phobic or something.
‘Let me get you a chair? A glass of water?’
Maisie shook her head weakly. ‘No, no … They won’t help. Oh, my word, can’t you see them, sweetheart? So many of them. They’re
everywhere.’
Was it agoraphobia? Frankie wondered. It must be the shop heaving with people that had brought on this panic attack. Maisie
was still leaning heavily against the door for support.
‘People?’ She looked worriedly at Maisie. ‘Well, yes, but they’re all friends. They’re all here to help.’
‘I know that.’ Maisie’s voice was barely a whisper. ‘That’s not what I’m talking about, sweetheart. Oh, this is unbelievable.’
At a complete loss and mentally cursing Brian for even mentioning the clear-out to Maisie who was clearly not a wellperson, Frankie patted Maisie’s damp shoulders. ‘I’m sorry, I’m not sure what’s wrong. Do you have a problem with crowds?
Shall I get someone to run you home if you don’t like being amongst all these people?’
Maisie shook her head, whimpered, and slumped a bit more. ‘Maybe a nice cup of tea?’ Frankie was rapidly running out of her
caring repertoire. And everyone else was still silently staring. Surely someone was a first-aider or something? ‘A cup of
tea,
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