Never Can Say Goodbye Page 5

‘Dexter hasn’t shown,’ Lilly said grumpily as she helped a large lady look for anything ‘suitable for the gym in a twenty-four plus, duck, if you’ve got it’.

  ‘Well, he did say he was going to get something to eat, and no doubt he’s got his own unpacking and settling in to do, and, let’s face it, this is probably hardly the type of nightlife he’s been used to.’ Frankie straightened up again with yet more T-shirts. ‘And if he’s interested in you he’ll be here, you know that.’

  Lilly sighed as she showed the large lady a pair of piebald harem pants in a size six. ‘You’re pretty useless at sign-reading, aren’t you? He’s not interested in me. What?’ She frowned at the large lady. ‘Won’t they? Not even one thigh? Ah, shame … OK. Oooh, look, jogging bottoms. Extra-extra large. Go and try them on – in the cubicles over there. A snip at a fiver and they’re just your colour. Sorry? Well, OK maybe maroon doesn’t suit everyone but they’ll look lovely on, trust me.’ She watched the lady lumber away towards the cubicles then beamed at Frankie. ‘There – see? Saleswoman of the year – thanks to Jennifer. Now where were we?’

  ‘You,’ Frankie said admiringly, ‘were just selling rubbish to a customer. I thought we were giving it away.’

  ‘Giving it away?’ Lilly looked horrified.

  ‘Well, yes. I just want shot of it.’

  ‘And you want money for it, too,’ Lilly insisted. ‘At least the stuff that isn’t going to charity. You have so much to learn. Like with Dexter … He really fancies you.’

  ‘Rubbish.’ Frankie frowned. ‘Of course he doesn’t.’

  ‘Duh!’ Lilly struck a pose. ‘He was all over you, you lucky thing. I hardly got a second glance.’

  ‘You got far more than that. And Dexter Valentine is definitely a player. He’s sexy, gorgeous, and friendly, and amusing – and he knows it. He thinks he’s irresistible and any girl is fair game. I bet he flirts with every female he comes into contact with. I’ve known loads of men like Dexter.’

  ‘Really?’ Lilly smiled gently. ‘Why haven’t I met any of them, then? We’ve been housemates for three years and—’

  ‘You know what I mean,’ Frankie said quickly.

  ‘Yeah.’ Lilly clambered over the discarded harem pants and gave her a swift hug. ‘And if I ever meet the bastard who broke your heart I’ll give him a good slap.’

  ‘Thanks.’

  Fortunately, Frankie thought, the chances of Lilly, or anyone else, ever finding out about Joseph Mason were slim to nil. And the chances of them ever meeting were even slimmer.

  She watched in amusement as the large lady emerged from the cubicles and beamed at Lilly, declaring the jogging pants were ‘ … exactly what I was looking for, duck. You’re a clever girl.’ The lady then handed Lilly a five pound note.

  ‘See,’ Lilly said triumphantly as she passed, ‘easy peasy. I’m putting the money in the biscuit tin in the kitchen. We’ve got loads in there already.’

  The door flew open again.

  ‘What’s going on in here?’ Biddy-the-funeral-goer demanded as she elbowed her way through the crowds, her pointy nose twitching, making her look even more like an inquisitive squirrel. ‘I was just passing on my way to the bus stop and I saw the lights and I wondered if you were doing a late-night opening.’

  ‘No, we’re not,’ Frankie said. ‘I’m just having a clear-out. You’re more than welcome to have a look round and see if there’s anything that you’d like.’

  ‘To hire? Why would I need to hire anything on the off chance?’

  ‘We’re not going to be hiring clothes any more,’ Frankie said gently, noting with some amusement that Biddy was dressed in a duck-egg blue ensemble that made her skin look like putty. Cherish, the colour-palette advisor’s choice no doubt. ‘When I reopen the shop I’m just going to be selling frocks.’

  ‘Selling? Frocks? Disgusting!’ Biddy snorted. ‘Where are we going to get our bits and pieces from now, then?’

  ‘Biff and Hedley Pippin are taking lots of the stock for their shop,’ Frankie said. ‘So if you catch the off-peak bus to go into Winterbrook I’m sure you’ll find something really cheap to buy in there, and it all goes to a good cause.’

  ‘I likes the hiring, not the buying. I don’t want stuff cluttering up my maisonette. And the Pippins’ shop’s for animals.’ Biddy sniffed. ‘Bloody animal charity shop they run. I ain’t giving my hard-earned to no animals.’

  ‘Oh, dear, that’s a pity.’ Frankie decided she really, really didn’t like Biddy. ‘Please excuse me, I’m really busy, but now you’re here, do stay and have a look round.’

  Biddy snorted again. ‘Bet you’re charging an arm and a leg for it and –’

  The rest of her disgruntled reply was lost in a gale of giggles from the far side of the shop where Frankie’s friends, Phoebe, Clemmie, Sukie and Amber, were fitting a selection of woolly hats on each other.

  Biddy tutted loudly and stomped away towards a tottering heap of mixed tops in vaguely unpleasant colours.

  ‘Whatever she wants,’ Frankie hissed at Lilly, ‘make sure she pays loads for it. Miserable cow.’

  ‘So speaks the entrepreneur of the year.’ Lilly giggled.

  ‘Guess who’s on their way over to give you a hand, gel?’ Brian’s eyes glistened as he and Biff folded several ancient and rather pungent hacking jackets into a cardboard box.

  ‘Barack Obama? Bob Dylan? David Dimbleby?’

  ‘Nah, don’t be daft, gel. It’s a lady.’

  ‘Oh, OK. Cheryl Cole? Lady Gaga? Holly Willoughby?’

  ‘Never heard of any of them neither. No, it’s Maisie.’

  ‘Maisie?’

  ‘Maisie Fairbrother – you know – she lives in them little flats out on the Hazy Hassocks road. Rita left her all her shoes.’

  ‘Oh, yes. I remember Rita saying that Maisie loved shoes, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen her in here. In fact I don’t think I’ve ever met her.’

  ‘Maisie don’t get out much,’ Brian said, nodding. ‘She can’t use public transport, see? Not with her trouble. But she felt she ought to make the effort to help out seeing as she got all them shoes. I saw her earlier and told her what we was doing tonight. She’ll be here in a trice, will Maisie. She was getting a taxi as soon as she’d had her Toast Topper.’

  ‘That’s very kind of her,’ Frankie said, wondering what sort of trouble Maisie had. Presumably it wasn’t the same as Dexter’s. ‘I’ll look forward to meeting her.’

  ‘Ah, you just have to take Maisie as you finds her, gel. Know what I mean?’

  ‘Yes, of course,’ said Frankie, who didn’t. ‘Oh, steady with those … ’

  She dived towards a couple of elderly women who were tottering towards the door with armfuls of clothing.

  ‘Here, let me help you. I’ll just open the door, shall I?’

  The elderly duo smiled their thanks as they disappeared into the wild night. Frankie had to lean on the door to close it. Blimey, the wind was strong …

  ‘You can’t keep me out like that,’ Dexter panted through the gap. ‘It’s been tried before.’

  Laughing, Frankie opened the door. ‘Sorry, I didn’t notice you.’

  ‘And that’s not a phrase I’ve heard very often, either.’ Dexter, glistening with raindrops, grinned at her. ‘Sorry I’m late. I got delayed.’

  Frankie, attempting not to be impressed, again, by the devastating good looks, also tried hard not to speculate on what – or who – might have caused the lateness. It was none of her business. And anyway, she didn’t care, did she? ‘It’s fine. It’s good of you to even volunteer on your first night.’

  ‘Wouldn’t have missed it for the world,’ Dexter said, his eyes lingering on her for just a second too long before looking round the shop. ‘You’ve worked miracles in here.’

  ‘Not just me,’ Frankie said, noting with amusement that Phoebe, Amber, Sukie and Clemmie – all of whom had gloriously sexy partners of their own – had stopped trying on the woolly headgear and were staring ad
miringly at Dexter. ‘I’ve got some really good friends, and so had Rita. They’ve all mucked in.’

  ‘So I can see. Right, what would you like me to do?’

  ‘Hi, Dexter – and ooh, where to start.’ Lilly chuckled, sashaying towards the kitchen with the money box biscuit tin. ‘And was that an open invite to all-comers or simply for little old me?’

  ‘Ignore her.’ Frankie laughed. ‘At least until later. And actually we could do with a bit of muscle to carry out those bigger boxes to the van outside. Biff, Hedley and Brian are all nearly pensionable age and must be getting tired by now.’

  ‘Fine.’ Dexter slid out of the leather jacket, displaying even more of the fabulously toned body as he pushed up the sleeves of his black sweater. ‘Just point me in the right direction.’

  ‘Well, we’ve got a box ready for the Salvation Army to collect, and all those piles of clothes over there have been allocated to the Pippins’ charity shop. Lilly’s got the other stuff sort of cordoned off by the counter, and all the saleable frocks are safely out of the way. Biff and Hedley have just taken a vanload back to Winterbrook, so maybe you could carry the next lot over to the door ready for the return trip?’

  Dexter nodded. ‘Actually, I’ve got my car parked right outside – I didn’t see any double yellows – so I could load it up and drive over to, um, wherever it is, if you like.’

  ‘Brilliant. Thank you. You can have Brian as navigator as you don’t know the area.’

  ‘Brian?’ Dexter screwed up the tawny eyes and scanned the crowd.

  ‘The big bloke over there with the wild hair and the duffle coat.’

  ‘Ah, right. He looks, um … ’

  ‘Brian’s lovely,’ Frankie said quickly. ‘Like a large child, kind, hard-working and very eager to please. He runs the kebab van in the marketplace.’

  ‘Does he? I’ll have to cultivate him then.’ Dexter laughed. ‘Nothing like a kebab after a good night out, and that means he’s another one of us, doesn’t it?’

  ‘“Us”?’

  ‘The Kingston Dapple market traders association.’

  Frankie smiled. ‘Yes, I suppose it does. Did you get settled in OK?’

  ‘Into the soulless bedsit? Yes. I travelled light – by necessity – so it didn’t take long to unpack. And I found a late-opening supermarket to stock up on the basics in one of the neighbouring villages. There’s nothing much in that line in Kingston Dapple, is there?’

  Frankie shook her head. ‘No, not really. Everyone goes to Big Sava in Hazy Hassocks, but there are Tescos and Sainsburys and proper shops in Winterbrook.’

  ‘Big Sava! That was it.’ Dexter beamed. ‘They had everything I needed. I even managed to microwave a curry for my dinner, so I won’t starve. And I called up a few of Ray’s contacts. I’m getting my first delivery tomorrow. All seasonal stuff – poinsettias, holly, mistletoe, festive wreaths, that sort of thing. Apparently I’ll have to go to the flower markets myself in future, but at least I’ll have some stock to start with. It all took far longer than I’d thought, which is why I’m so late.’

  ‘Great, er, I mean, I’m pleased you’re getting stuff sorted out too. OK, now let me introduce you to Brian, oh, and it might be better if you don’t mention Ray too much. Brian had, um, a bit of a romantic liaison with Rita for quite a long time.’

  ‘Really? Did she jilt him for Ray?’

  ‘Not exactly jilt, no. But I think Brian was more hurt than he lets on.’

  ‘OK.’ Dexter smiled. ‘Poor Brian. We’ve all been there, haven’t we?’

  I may have, Frankie thought, but I very much doubt that you’ve ever 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 well person, 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, with lots of sugar? Then we’ll get you away from all these people, OK?’

  ‘It’s not the crowds that bother me.’ Maisie sighed softly, eyes closed and still adopting the dramatic head-smiting pose. ‘Not these living people in here, sweetheart. They don’t worry me. They’re not calling to me.’

  ‘Aren’t they? Oh, good.’

  Maisie opened her eyes. ‘No sweetheart, they’re not. It’s not the living, sweetheart. It’s the dead. Ghosts, s
weetheart. This shop is full of them.’

  Chapter Six

  Bloody hell, Frankie thought. This is all I need.

  With a gentle groan, Maisie, still leaning backwards against the door, closed her eyes again and slowly slid sideways.

  ‘She’s fainted!’ Frankie looked wildly round the still-staring shopful of people. ‘Someone do something, please.’

  ‘Ah, it often happens with Maisie. I said she had her troubles, didn’t I?’ Brian, still carrying cardboard boxes, lumbered towards them, dropped his cargo in a heap and elbowed Frankie out of the way. He grabbed Maisie’s shoulders. ‘Stand back, gel. I can deal with this. My old ma knew how to deal with faints. Head between the knees, that’s what she needs.’

  Brian tightened his grip on Maisie’s shoulders and jerked her head forwards.

  ‘Brian!’ Frankie yelled. ‘Not like that!’

  Too late. Brian quickly had Maisie bent double and was trying to force the cauliflower head somewhere midway beneath the voluminous raincoat.

  ‘Head-between-the-knees,’ Brian panted. ‘Head-between-the-knees.’

  ‘Brian! Stop!’

  Brian continued to thrust Maisie into a forward-bend gymnastic contortion.

  The shop watched the manoeuvres in shocked and silent awe.

  Frankie whimpered. She definitely wasn’t insured for this, was she? ‘Brian! You can’t! No one can bend like that! You’ll kill her! I mean, if you’re going to do head between the knees, surely she should be sitting down first. Oh, Lord.’

  Maisie gave a little scream and suddenly fought back.

  ‘There you go, gel,’ Brian puffed, straightening up with a triumphal smile. ‘That brought her out of it. Always works, that does.’

  The shop gave a ragged round of relieved applause.

  Maisie looked around her with vaguely blinking eyes. ‘What happened? Did I make contact?’

  ‘Only with Brian,’ Frankie said, mightily thankful that Francesca’s Fabulous Frocks didn’t have a death on its hands before the official opening. ‘Are you feeling a little bit better now?’

  Maisie shook her head. ‘No, sweetheart, I’m not. I’m still all of a flutter. I’m afraid I can’t stay here, sweetheart, and neither should you.’