Chapter Seventeen
Daisy
‘Are these a gift?’ Doris, the owner of the bookshop, admired the two books Daisy had arrived to collect – the latest Agatha Raisin mystery in hardback, and a beautiful book about the history of quilting. ‘Must be for the family.’ She smiled knowingly.
‘They’re both for Grandad. He’s addicted to the Agatha Raisin stories and you know what he’s like when it comes to quilting.’
‘I wish my husband could take an interest.’ Doris shook her head and rang the order up on the till. ‘He has me sew on a button if it falls off, fix a cuff if the seam unravels, turn up trousers that are too long.’
‘Well send him our way or to Miriam’s haberdashery if you get tired of doing the repairs.’
‘I probably should.’
Daisy put the books into her bag, looking over at the man in red bythe far wall and a line of excited kids queuing up for their turn. She fondly remembered the times they’d come here as girls and done the same.
Butterbury’s bookshop was bigger than most in the other little surrounding villages, they were lucky. It had been two buildings that were knocked into one and with a lot of floor space, which meant a lot of choice. But Daisy went straight for the sectionshe really wanted to check out.
The photography section.
She flipped through a book about using lighting techniques to your advantage. She found a book filled with photographs from Egypt with each one reviewed to detail what had worked and what could be improved. And the minute the oversized upholstered patchwork chair in the corner became vacant she took a book about twilight photography andsat down to devour it. Even though she knew she was going to buy it, she wanted to look at it there and then, with nothing else to demand her attention.
Daisy had been sitting for some time and only looked up once when Father Christmas walked past and winked at her.
She felt like she was five years old all over again the way she giggled.
Daisy took the book to the counter where Doris was takinga phone call. After Doris had hung up, her murmurs ofoh no,andbut what am I going to do?had Daisy concerned. ‘Everything all right?’
‘Not really,’ Doris sighed. ‘I had this whole promotion thing planned with the local newspaper. They were sending a photographer to take pictures of Father Christmas and the kids as well as the bookshop and it was going to feature in a week or so. It would’vedrummed up a lot of business.’ She leaned in conspiratorially. ‘I don’t mind telling you that the kids’ story corner makes up a huge proportion of our sales at this time of the year. Parents spend a lot on their offspring when it comes to books – something I wholly approve of – but I need publicity every now and then to remind people we exist. Many don’t realise the stock we have here in a quietCotswold village and they go to the bigger retailers or order online.’
‘What happened with the local newspaper? Did they cancel?’
‘Their photographer has come down with a tummy bug so the journalist can do the write-up but without the pictures, it’s not the same. They don’t have anyone else as they’re all on other assignments.’ Doris sighed. ‘She’s coming by in half an hour to do the story anyway,the photographer will be at a later date, which means we might miss the Christmas peak period.’ She picked up a pile of brightly coloured books and shook her head. ‘Nothing I can do.’
‘Wait,’ said Daisy before Doris could head over to the children’s section. ‘I’m not bad with a camera.’
Doris’s brain seemed to register the purchase Daisy had just made. ‘That’s true, and I have seen you aroundButterbury taking pictures.’ She lowered her voice again. ‘They selected this particular photographer because he had experience working with kids.’ Daisy had to lean in when she whispered, ‘Between you and me, they can apparently be a little difficult.’
‘I’m sure I could handle it.’
‘Oh Daisy, it’s a big ask, and I couldn’t take you away from your own job.’
Daisy was surprised by how much shewanted to do this. ‘Why don’t I go to the shop and check with Mum that she can spare me for a couple of hours, grab my camera from home and come back. I’ll take the photos while the journalist does her observations and makes notes, interviews you and whatever else she’s going to do, and then if you don’t like the pictures I’ve taken and she has no interest in them either, no harm done at all. Theprofessional can come whenever and the newspaper coverage will still happen.’
Doris pulled her against her ample bosom and squeezed her tight. ‘Daisy, you’re a wonderful girl, a credit to your family.’
‘So that’s a yes?’ She was laughing at the surprise gesture that almost bowled her over.
‘Go!’ she said with a flourish. ‘Go get your camera!’
Loretta had no problems with Daisy helping Doris.The pair had known one another for years and when Daisy told her mum that Doris needed to keep business booming if they all wanted the bookshop to be around in years to come, Loretta hadn’t hesitated, especially when Ginny said she could stay and help out in the shop as long as was needed.
Daisy started by taking pictures of the bookshop from the outside, of the bookshop’s beautiful mullionedglass and curved bay windows with low lighting, picturesque with the frosted effect Doris had had going since the start of December. In the window on one side of the front entrance was a book tree with colourful spines, on the other was a real tree with book-related ornaments that were on sale inside the shop, and when the pavement was clear of passers-by Daisy got a wonderful wide-angled shot ofthe frontage in all its splendour.
Inside the shop she put her coat and scarf out at the back and got ready to meet the kids, plenty of whom were swarming with excitement already. She hadn’t photographed many children but she had been asked to take the odd picture of grandkids visiting their elderly relatives at Butterbury Lodge – her grandad had volunteered her services more than once – andshe’d actually enjoyed the challenge. What she’d found was that she had to throw all the rules about poses out of the window because kids were better in candid, natural shots, and when an adult was around they took a while to act the way kids should act. The trick was to give them some time to get comfortable with your presence, let them ask questions about your camera, settle their curiosity, andonce they’d heard enough, got a bit bored of you and moved on to thinking about the next thing, it was time for you to move around freely.
Doris had put a big sign up to say there was a photographer in the shop this afternoon and Daisy could hear her briefing parents who could choose not to have their child included if they preferred, although most were local and more than happy for them to goahead. As the journalist chatted with Doris, Daisy approached the kids’ corner where Father Christmas was sitting with a little boy talking about trains. Two little girls had spotted her and her camera and came straight over. She got down to their height and as a couple of others flocked her way she explained that she wanted to take lots of pictures for Christmas and that an article was going toappear in the newspaper. This made their eyes go wide and they followed her around for a little while, she took their pictures whenever they wanted her to so they could see themselves in the screen on the back. And as predicted their curiosity soon waned and they were back to the book and toy areas.
Daisy captured the nooks in the bookshop and the displays, some with fairy lights strung alongthe wood. She doubted the newspaper would want too many photographs with the article but a nice variety was a good idea. Her stomach churned at the thought that this could be real. A photograph of hers might be used for publication. And that was something she hadn’t imagined in a very long time. She’d shut the feelings down a long while ago, but showing Joshua all those photographs in the pub thatnight, having the man at the lodge compliment her on her talent, had stirred up her passion all the more.
