she hoped her smile wouldn’t falter. Daisy Smythe had never set foot in Fey For Fun even for a browse, as most locals had at one time or another, and from the supercilious look on her wrinkled face devoid of make-up she couldn’t hazard a guess as to why the old woman had now.
Unless Daisy had heard about her spending time with Molly. In which case she knew her newest customer wasn’t here to browse, she was here to interrogate.
‘Good afternoon. Can I help you with anything, or are you happy to look around?’
Daisy pinned her with an astute stare from behind blue-rimmed spectacles that travelled from the top of Carissa’s flyaway curls to her toes, poking out from worn black sandals. ‘I would like some help.’
‘Certainly.’
‘Starting with why you’re so interested in my great-niece.’
Carissa gulped at the accusatory glint in Daisy’s beady black eyes and racked her brain for an appropriate answer, fearing that whatever she said would fallwell and truly short of what Molly’s great-aunt would want to hear.
‘Molly is my neighbour. She’s a lovely-natured little girl, and I’d like to offer her my friendship.’
Daisy pursed her lips, adding to the wrinkles around her mouth, and Carissa braced herself for a lecture. In the old woman’s defence, she’d be just as protective if some stranger had taken a liking to one of her nieces—if she’d had any.
‘Good answer, young lady. Molly can use all the friends she can get, and I’ve heard nothing but praise for you and the way you treat the children in this town. Most of the parents rave about your parties and the pageants you host at Easter and Christmas time. Now, if you can help me choose a birthday present for the young lady in question, I’d be most grateful.’
Carissa stood there, gob-smacked, before recovering her wits when Daisy sent her another one of those scary looks.
‘Molly has been going on about some fairy movie she saw at your house the other night. Perhaps one of those for a start?’
‘Yes,’ Carissa managed to say, hoping that Molly hadn’t told her great-aunt anything else about that night—like how she’d acted like a lunatic when a mouse ran across the kitchen floor. Somehow she had a feeling Daisy wouldn’t be too impressed by anyone showing fear. The old duck probably wasn’t scared of anything.
‘And perhaps she’d like one of these fairy costumes? Molly would look adorable in one.’ Carissa held up a pale pink tu-tu with matching sequined bodice and gossamer-thin silk wings edged in silver. ‘When is her birthday?’
‘The Sunday after Easter,’ Daisy said, nodding in approval at the costume. ‘I’ll take it. You have good taste, young lady.’
Carissa smiled her thanks and headed for the cash register, thankful she’d escaped any further interrogation about the evening Molly had spent at her house.
However, her relief was short-lived.
‘Molly tells me you discussed her mother?’ Daisy said, rummaging in her handbag for her purse.
‘Uh, yes,’ she mumbled, concentrating on ringing up Daisy’s purchases to avoid looking the old woman in the eye. God, this was awkward.
‘My niece’s death was a terribly sad business for all involved, but thankfully Molly has coped. Now, how much do I owe you, dear?’
Dear? She’d progressed from ‘young lady’ to ‘dear’ in the space of two minutes. She must be doing something right.
‘Fifty-two dollars, please. And gift-wrapping is free of charge.’
Daisy nodded and handed over the exact money while Carissa reached for the scissors.
‘Now, Molly’s father is a different matter all together. Brody has been mourning for far too long. It’s time he had a good woman in his life—someone who will love Molly more than her mother did.’
The scissors skewed off the paper and Carissa had to cut a new piece. She studied the gold paper with intense concentration. From the little information Brody had shared at the dinner she’d cooked for him,
Unless Daisy had heard about her spending time with Molly. In which case she knew her newest customer wasn’t here to browse, she was here to interrogate.
‘Good afternoon. Can I help you with anything, or are you happy to look around?’
Daisy pinned her with an astute stare from behind blue-rimmed spectacles that travelled from the top of Carissa’s flyaway curls to her toes, poking out from worn black sandals. ‘I would like some help.’
‘Certainly.’
‘Starting with why you’re so interested in my great-niece.’
Carissa gulped at the accusatory glint in Daisy’s beady black eyes and racked her brain for an appropriate answer, fearing that whatever she said would fallwell and truly short of what Molly’s great-aunt would want to hear.
‘Molly is my neighbour. She’s a lovely-natured little girl, and I’d like to offer her my friendship.’
Daisy pursed her lips, adding to the wrinkles around her mouth, and Carissa braced herself for a lecture. In the old woman’s defence, she’d be just as protective if some stranger had taken a liking to one of her nieces—if she’d had any.
‘Good answer, young lady. Molly can use all the friends she can get, and I’ve heard nothing but praise for you and the way you treat the children in this town. Most of the parents rave about your parties and the pageants you host at Easter and Christmas time. Now, if you can help me choose a birthday present for the young lady in question, I’d be most grateful.’
Carissa stood there, gob-smacked, before recovering her wits when Daisy sent her another one of those scary looks.
‘Molly has been going on about some fairy movie she saw at your house the other night. Perhaps one of those for a start?’
‘Yes,’ Carissa managed to say, hoping that Molly hadn’t told her great-aunt anything else about that night—like how she’d acted like a lunatic when a mouse ran across the kitchen floor. Somehow she had a feeling Daisy wouldn’t be too impressed by anyone showing fear. The old duck probably wasn’t scared of anything.
‘And perhaps she’d like one of these fairy costumes? Molly would look adorable in one.’ Carissa held up a pale pink tu-tu with matching sequined bodice and gossamer-thin silk wings edged in silver. ‘When is her birthday?’
‘The Sunday after Easter,’ Daisy said, nodding in approval at the costume. ‘I’ll take it. You have good taste, young lady.’
Carissa smiled her thanks and headed for the cash register, thankful she’d escaped any further interrogation about the evening Molly had spent at her house.
However, her relief was short-lived.
‘Molly tells me you discussed her mother?’ Daisy said, rummaging in her handbag for her purse.
‘Uh, yes,’ she mumbled, concentrating on ringing up Daisy’s purchases to avoid looking the old woman in the eye. God, this was awkward.
‘My niece’s death was a terribly sad business for all involved, but thankfully Molly has coped. Now, how much do I owe you, dear?’
Dear? She’d progressed from ‘young lady’ to ‘dear’ in the space of two minutes. She must be doing something right.
‘Fifty-two dollars, please. And gift-wrapping is free of charge.’
Daisy nodded and handed over the exact money while Carissa reached for the scissors.
‘Now, Molly’s father is a different matter all together. Brody has been mourning for far too long. It’s time he had a good woman in his life—someone who will love Molly more than her mother did.’
The scissors skewed off the paper and Carissa had to cut a new piece. She studied the gold paper with intense concentration. From the little information Brody had shared at the dinner she’d cooked for him,
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