The tram pulled in at a stop where a few people got off, and Shelly positioned herself in the aisle. When the next stop came up, Shelly nodded. 'There you go, my lover. Go up the passageway to the right of the shelter, just there, see it? And then you carry on past the bend, and you'll see a little place set back with a blue door. That's Darlings. Doesn't look much from the outside.'
'Right.'
'When you go in, you ask for a Darling basket, and you tell them I sent you, and they'll fall over themselves.'
'A Darling basket?'
Shelly frowned. 'Haven't you had any yet?'
It went through Tilly's mind that Shelly might have a bit of a screw loose. Having no idea what Shelly was talking about, Tilly shook her head. 'Basket? Err, no, not that I know of.'
'It's an old Darling superstition. You'll probably have a few left on the doorstep before the end of the day. It's how we roll around here.'
'I see.' Tilly didn't see. She had no idea what a Darling basket was.
Shelly lowered her voice. 'If anyone offers you a basket, you don't say no.'
'I don't?'
Shelly made a face. 'Take it from me, you do not.'
As the tram pulled away, Tilly stood on the pavement with her hands in her pockets for a moment, watching it make its way along Darling Street. The tram ride, Darling scenery and friendly locals had done something to Tilly. What a funny, quaint, absolutely beautiful part of the world. Were things looking up? It seemed as if they were.
15
Following Shelly's instructions to the letter, Tilly walked away from Darling Street, through a narrow alleyway that smelled of damp stone, down a cobbled road with mews houses on either side, surrounded everywhere she looked by lush hanging baskets full of pretty flowers. At the end of the road, she took the bend and smiled as she saw the little café, Darlings, set back from the road.
Stopping walking for a second, she nodded as she took everything in. A small white bow-fronted shopfront drowning in climbing flowers winding up over the window and round the door frame. Window boxes danced with plants, and a blue sign,Darlings, gave a hint of what was going on inside. Coach lights hung on either side of a bow-fronted door, and tucked on the cobbles, an old Pashley bike, its basket filled with flowers, was propped to the side. Vintage lace café curtains hid most of the inside from view, to the left, a tiny timber menu box nestled beside the door, and a row of potted herbs in a little cage on the wall rustled in the breeze.
Pushing the door open, a bell tinkled overhead as Tilly blinked and did a double-take. The place was packed to the rafters and absolutely incredible. Every surface held alittle something, plants were dotted all over the place, little ceramic dishes and bowls were everywhere, and greenery trailed wherever it could. Tiny bistro tables were squashed into every spare inch, and on floor-to-ceiling shelving, little fluted bowls, copper fluted cake moulds and an assortment of teapots were packed in as if their life depended on it. At the far end, suspended shelving over an old-fashioned counter groaned with bottles and kitchen paraphernalia. A coffee machine hissed and whirred, spoons clinked against saucers and a warm hum of chatter wrapped around the lot of it. Squinting at the shelves, Tilly wondered what the hundreds of small china bowls in all sorts of shapes, patterns and sizes were for. She was about to find out.
Turning to her right and looking towards the back of the café, it appeared as if there wasn't a single free table. Just about to open the door to walk back out, a woman appeared as if from nowhere, long glossy hair in a ponytail, a beautiful butcher's apron, white tennis shoes. She moved between the tables as if she had wheels under her feet.
'Hello. How are you? Welcome to Darlings. Would you like me to fit you in? Just you, is it?'
'Oh, I thought you were full. Yes, please. If you've got a free table, that would be lovely.'
The woman was already moving and gestured for Tilly to follow her to the far corner. 'Right over here in the corner by the window. It's a bit tight down this side, if that’s okay. We're really busy today because of the weather. Everyone's out and about before the storm rolls in.'
Tilly followed the woman to a small table squeezed against the right-hand wall. The woman wasn't wrong, it was a tight squeeze with barely room to swing a cat, but it was better than nothing. Waiting for a second as a blue gingham cushion on the chair was plumped, Tilly smiled. 'Thanks.'
'Rightio, I'm Evie. What do you fancy? First time in Darlings, is it?'
Tilly laughed. 'Is it that obvious?'
'Only a small bit.' Evie smiled. 'Who sent you, then? Not many find us over this side of Darling unless you live here…'
'I was on my way here anyway, but then when I was on the tram, I spoke to Shelly. I’ve moved here sort of via Fiji. I was told to ask for a basket. Is that right?'
'Ahh, right, got you. Okie-dokie, makes sense now. Coffee?'
'A strong one, I think, is what I need.' Tilly chuckled.
'Been one of those days? Strong, I can do. Back in a tick.'
With a whoosh of apron and tennis shoes through the tables, Evie was gone in a flash. Putting the menu down, Tilly looked around at the buzzing little café. On the table beside her, a mum with a tiny baby in a car seat had a small bowl of what looked like hot chocolate or very milky coffee in front of her. Every now and then, she dipped a small fluted doughnut into the bowl. Wondering what was in the bowl, Tilly flicked her eyes around to other tables. Not a mug, cup and saucer to be seen. Every customer appeared to have a version of the small bowl in front of them. A few minutes later, the same thing arrived via Evie on Tilly's table. 'We do coffee in bowls on Darling. Is that okay for you? We have our weird and wonderful ways here. I thought you’d be au fait with it.'
Tilly smiled and pointed to the floor-to-ceiling shelves crammed with bowls. 'Ahh, it makes sense now. They’re everywhere. A bowl is fine, thanks.'
