A Nightingale in Parkleigh Square

Chapter Seventeen

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R eclaimed bottles and jars covered the table in Display by Design's studio, divided into groups based on size and shape for the task of decorating them. Molly had filled plastic trays with glue-on faceted stones, glass beads, and chunky glitter resembling snow and ice.

Decorative metal caps, clear oversize beads big enough to use as stoppers, and ornate glass-looking tips to disguise the original opening, just like the glitter and beading would cover the threads around them.

Nina had come in early to finish cleaning them so they shone like crystal and ice — to some, she had applied a patina wash inside, which gave them a translucent, mother of pearl-like sheen in the light

"Okay, so by tomorrow, we want all of these looking beautifully winterized, so they match our professional ornaments," said Bradley, surveying the numbers as he picked up a brush and a jar of glue. "Beautified by the dozens. Or else."

"It's off to work, then," said Molly. "We want all of the globe ones for sure." The decorative marmalade jars would be the most striking ornaments. "And these tube-like tapered ones, and the nicest of the perfume bottles. Anything irregular in shape, let's think creatively — you know, tuck in some lights, add some of those crystal beads on wire that are so flexible."

"What time do we have to pick up the shipment?" she asked.

"Before five. It's — all the ornaments, plus the extra creative improvisations we grabbed in bulk," said Molly, reviewing the email on her phone. "So we'll be shorthanded for a time if one of us is staying behind to keep on."

"We will," said Nina. She bit one of her nails. "Unless maybe — we have reinforcements?"

She was looking out the window at Anika sitting by her Christmas tree with a ceramic mug in hand. "What about asking a few friends to come be our assistants for the day?"

"Like, how?" laughed Molly. "We're down to peanuts on our budget, unless we're paying them on credit until the refund is processed in another week."

"We pay them later, and we feed them now?" suggested Nina. "Food and company are both pretty valuable as placeholders until you have cash."

"We don't have any food," said Bradley.

"Yeah we do." Nina opened the fridge and produced a roll of processed butter cookie dough and a jar of raspberry jam.

"So the plan is to make these as artistically beautiful as possible," said Molly. "Here's one Bradley did — see the beads around the former screw-on tracks, the way they sort of drip down like frost crystals? Exactly what we're trying to do. Here's another one from Nina, who grouped all the crystals in this pattern over the flat side of the jar, with this clear tapered point over the end with some of this sparkly fluff for snow decorating the top and side, just dusting down it."

"Where did you get those plastic tips?" asked Reina, looking at one. "Is this from a piping kit?"

"You figured it out," said Molly, grinning. "We use what works, right?"

The artist grinned back. "Can I try?"

"Go for it," said Nina.

Anika picked up some of the crystals with peel and stick backing, and one of the tapered tube-shaped bottles. "These look like icicles," she said. "So pretty."

"There are some twisty snowflake crystals on clear wire here —some icy and snowy branch tips — some foam-core beads that look like mercury glass — basically, go to town," said Molly. "Just lay them to dry on the trays over there. Anything you can make will be great, and we'd really appreciate it."

"We have tea and cookies — I mean, biscuits — when you're ready for a break," said Nina. From the countertop oven, she pulled a pan of jam thumbprint cookies, and sprinkled the top with a little extra sugar. "As soon as they cool, that is."

"Ohh, those look good," said Anika. "We made these in my village. Especially for Christmas. I used to make them with apple preserves."

"Can I take my break now?" asked Reina, raising her hand. Everyone laughed.

Reina had a knack for making the glitter look almost natural — Anika was especially creative when it came to the irregularly-shaped bottles, using the snowflake-shaped crystals on transparent wire to create a snowstorm inside one.

"I can't believe I'm actually making ornaments for an exclusive boutique in London," said Reina. "I've never had my work displayed anywhere posh. I mean, technically this is more like a crafts project than something I created by hand, but I still created it."

"It's as much your art as the stained glass you create," said Nina. "This is just the shortcut method."

"In a way," said Reina. "I can't wait to see them. I know they'll only be public for a couple of days, but I'm absolutely shopping there during that time."

"Please, I need more glue?" said Anika, holding up her brush.

"Here you go," said Bradley. "There's more in the box over there, too," he said, nodding towards their stash of supplies. "I always buy extra. I tend to waste a lot."

"You sound like my children," she said, chuckling. "They use half a bottle to glue together anything they make. I find it all over the flat."

"Hey, anything that gets kids to be creative is good, isn't it?" said Molly.

"Except they might end up like us," said Bradley. "Making crafts for a designer's retail store."

"I think that's a cool career," said Reina. "Look, I work for mere pennies sometimes. Starving artists aren't glam, but we are a necessary part of the world."

"We will definitely be starving if we fail this gig," said Molly, with a wry version of her smile this time. "We're finishing in the nick of time."

The ornaments were a third of the way finished before they had tea and cookies, and Anika complimented the cookies, even though they weren't homemade. "They still taste like the real thing," she said to Nina. "I haven't had time to bake any like these, I've been busy with bread. With four other people to care for, I am always busy."

"Take two," said Molly, holding out the plate. "You earned it, you're as good as we are when it comes to blinging ornaments."

"I used to embroider sometimes, so I am used to decorating things," said Anika. "But not professionally, not like you or Reina."

Even with help, it wasn't enough to finish the bottles and jars, so they carried on after Anika went to prepare dinner and Reina left for an appointment with a potential client. Nina applied crystals stickers to the last one of the marmalade jar lot, attaching one of the metallic tops with a loop for hanging it from the tree.

"Our fingers are going to ache by the end of the day," said Molly. "I'm actually looking forward to the pick-up hour as an excuse to get away." She sprinkled glitter over the beveled jar containing a conical metal bead that resembled a Christmas tree, glued inside.

"Take Bradley, I'll stay and finish as many of these as I can," said Nina. "You can have the key to the Billington's service door."

"I thought you'd come. Don't you want to look inside the boxes, have an early peek?" said Molly, sounding hurt. "Don't get me wrong, Bradley's great, but he and I have teamed up the last two times on errands. I thought it would be me and you today."

"I didn't do as much as you two on the garland pieces," said Nina. "The two of you have done all the natural pinecones and boughs with artificial snow."

"Yeah, but you worked late on the lights," said Molly. "You missed the pub party."

"I didn't do that much," she said.

"You were here past ten, you didn't get back to the room until almost eleven," said Molly.

Nina hesitated. She hated lying. "I didn't stay here," she said. "I went out. Vincent, the designer, wanted to talk about the store's Christmas plans, so we shared dinner."

"You went to dinner with the hot guy in the suit," said Molly. "Are you serious?"

"Yeah. We had dinner, we talked ... we came back to the store for awhile afterwards," said Nina.

"Just for a chat, right? Isn't he —?"

"No," said Nina. The blush came into her cheeks before she could suppress it. "He's not, as it turns out."

The pause after this was a long one, with Molly staring at her intently. Nina could feel her skin growing hot. "Before you say anything," she began.

"Say — what?" teased Molly.

"It wasn't like — we were just talking — then —"

"Whoa. Whoa, wait. What happened?" Molly's smile disappeared.

"I might've kissed him," said Nina. "It just happened suddenly."

"Why did you keep it a secret? Why did you pretend you'd been finishing the lights all evening?"

"I don't know, I didn't know what to say. I don't know what to think," said Nina. "He seems like a great guy, but it was so sudden. It's really confusing."

"And you didn't want to ask for some advice? Have a heart to heart with your best friend?"

Molly was hurt, and Nina felt guilty for pretending. She went to bed last night, like nothing happened that was worth mentioning.

"I'm sorry, I just didn't know how to say it," she said. "Was it anything? Was it just some random moment? I have no idea."

"You could have told me," said Molly. "Just as friends. I can't believe you kept it a secret."

"It wasn't anything to do with you," said Nina.

"Maybe not, but it's ... frustrating," said Molly. "It's like we're working on two separate tracks these days, and I don't know what's going on with you now. We used to tell each other everything, now you're deciding whether to tell me, even if it's not a big deal."

"Come on, don't be upset, Molly," said Nina.

"Just let me think about some things." Molly put on her coat. "Maybe you can chat with Vincent while I'm busy. He might have great ideas for our coup d’état at Van Stewart's, who knows?" She put on her coat and scarf, grabbing the keys to the van and the store.

"Molly," pleaded Nina.

"We have to go, Bradley," Molly called out the window — Bradley was in the yard below, snow-dusting some of the greenery boughs for the garland. "See you later."

She went out and closed the door, as Nina sighed in frustration.

Molly was quiet on the drive to the warehouse. Brad glanced at her. "Are you okay?" he asked.

"I'm fine," she said. "Just concentrating. These roads are crazy, since everybody drives on the left over here."

"I know," he said.

It's not that she kissed him, it's that she made it seem like a secret. Is it because she thinks I'm too busy? Or that I would tell somebody? What's the deal? Nina had made excuses before about why she was working on projects alone since they'd gotten here — was she pulling away?

"It's a long drive," commented Bradley. "If you want to switch with me?"

"No, I'm fine."

"I've got snacks."

"Not hungry." She could make an excuse about eating too many cookies while working, and that should do it. Couldn't they just drive in silence? Or listen to the radio?

By the time they reached the warehouse, the gates were almost ready to close to the warehouse grounds, but Tristan was waiting for them at the open door to one of the large shipping cubes on the lot. She recognized him from the day in the cab, although today he was wearing a yellow safety jacket over his clothes.

"I thought you wouldn't make it in time," he said.

"Sorry, it's hard to get used to the roads," said Molly. "Thanks for waiting."

"Yours is the most unusual call I've received this year," he said.

"Well, we needed to find someone in imports, and we thought of you," said Molly. "Who better than a random guy we met in a cab who knew all about wholesale goods?"

"A sale is a sale," he chuckled. "All the stuff we negotiated is boxed and ready, but you'll need to sign some papers and I'll verify the credit information."

They were using their own business card, not the one provided for the job, so Molly didn't blame him. "Here's my card and my I.D.," she said. "Show me where to sign."

"Here's the receipt. And this is an additional waiver because there's some damage on the box for the home decor stuff, probably what's inside is fine, but we can't guarantee it."

As she signed, Bradley loaded the boxes into the van, squeezing them in close. He opened one for Molly, who saw the icicle lights inside. They checked another box, which had frosted pinecones of faux mercury glass nestled in paper.

It all looked good, so she didn't have any qualms about having signed the paperwork. Now all they had to do was take it to the store. They could start decorating, if they wanted to — which Molly didn't.

"Are you okay to drive back on your own?" she asked Bradley, after they carried the last of the boxes through the service door, into the tented-off work spaces for Christmas.

"Sure," he said. "You're not staying here on your own, are you?"

"I thought I'd hang around a few minutes, then catch a cab," she said. "You know, look for some inspiration to strike."

Bradley looked confused. "Okay," he said. "If you want me to stay, I'm happy to. I could grab us some dinner at the nearest fish and chips."

"No, you go eat and see if Nina needs help."

No inspiration struck. At the pub, Molly plopped down in a chair in the quiet corner, farthest from the jukebox playing 'Wonderful Christmastime'. "Bring me the usual," she said to Ted, who was refilling a bowl with nuts.

By now, Brad was probably helping Nina, and she should be helping, too. Time to pretend it was okay again, and act like it was no big deal. It wasn't, yet it was. How could that be true?

"This whole thing has been stressful," she muttered. "Is it worth it, or should we have just stayed home?" She leaned her head back against the wall.

A plate appeared in front of her — not her turkey sandwich, but a flaky round pastry. She straightened her head. "What's this?" She looked at Ted, who pointed as he sat down on the opposite bench.

"A knish," he said.

She looked down at it. "Seriously?" she said.

"What? Turns out it's just a potato pasty," he said. "Nothing to it. Anyway, I tried a recipe, popped a few in the freezer. Thought you'd like one."

She cut into it, releasing steam and potatoes, with a hint of parsley or garlic. "Wow," she said. "This is gorgeous." She took a bite. "It's as good as the bakery back home. Props to you," she said. "You are a first rate pastry chef, Ted." She pointed at him with her fork.

"Go on. I just throw stuff together," he said. "It's not difficult."

"You should open a restaurant. Specialize in gourmet noshes, or something like that."

"Been eating my goat cheese and prosciutto pie, have you?"

"Will you make me one of those?" she asked.

"Tomorrow night," he said. "Tonight I've got individual shepherd's pies to do. There's a pack coming in to watch an event on telly, live telecast of American football drafts or something like that."

"Don't make fun of football in front of me," said Molly. "I'm a Giants fan all the way."

"My game's rugby," he said.

"That's football without goalposts or pile ons," said Molly, rolling her eyes.

"It's a different beast, don't knock it until you've seen a match live," he said. They exchanged smiles, and Molly noticed his was particularly nice, when he wasn't bothering with the gruff attitude.

He stood up. "Where's the rest of the design duo?" he asked.

"Working. As I should be," said Molly. "I just wanted to clear my head."

"Need another moan?" he didn't ask it meanly, which Molly appreciated. "I've a break in ten."

"No. It's not for public chat," said Molly, wryly. "Don't worry about me, I'll get over it. You know what women are like, right? They need a good cry sometimes."

"Can't argue that," he said. "You change your mind, you know where to find me." He softened his smile a little. "I'll bring you a Coke," he said, leaving her with her dinner.

"Thanks," she answered. She turned her head. "Did you ever think about opening a restaurant?" she called after him.

"What for? I have this place," he answered.

"What about catering?" she asked. "Weddings, bar mitzvahs. People pay big bucks for this kind of food in miniature."

He looked off to the side. "Maybe." He shrugged and grinned. "Never know what the future has, do we?"

"Not a clue," she answered, shrugging. She settled back in her place again, looking at the knish, which was cool enough to eat now, if she was actually hungry. It would be a shame to waste it.

I guess I should apologize. It's my fault, isn't it? I shouldn't think this is the beginning of secrets, but what if it is? Maybe we start looking for other people's ideas to bring in, and looking for ways to divide up the jobs so it's less about two people's ideas — more about one person's vision.

Okay, so Nina technically didn't say she was talking to Vincent about their work, just work in general. Maybe she kept it a secret just because of the kiss. Handsome designer turns out to be hot for her, why tell everybody after he made a move? Maybe it was confusing.

She was confused, that much was true. She put a hand over her face, feeling a headache coming on. Too much time looking at little crystals beads and rhinestones. The glue was stuck between her nails like a crust.

Maybe she was better off going to bed early and getting a fresh start extra early tomorrow. Wasn't that the same thing as going back tonight to finish?

***

F rom outside, Nina looked inside at the pub, but didn't see Molly. Bradley said she was looking for inspiration, so maybe she decided to see a late-night movie instead, or have a pizza.

She walked past, carrying the little white paper sack from the studio, which contained a second batch of jam cookies baked this evening. It helped her clear her head after finishing most of the ornaments, waiting for Molly and Bradley to come back. And only Bradley had turned up in the end, with Molly's thin excuse and a hunger for the last deli sandwich in their mini fridge.

Why hadn't she wanted to talk about dinner with Vincent? She knew the real reason — she found him attractive beyond mere looks. Molly was going to think she was crazy if she heard that. Now Molly was going to think she was talking about their business behind her back, so she knew what a dumb decision it had been.

Am I crazy for liking him? I barely know him. Maybe he's playing me, just because I'm going home again in a couple of weeks and nothing will come of it.

Why was everything so mixed up inside?

Outside the door to Anika's flat, she looped the paper sack's handles. These cookies were made with apple jam from a jar she bought at the shop a couple of lanes away, after she needed to clear the glitter from her hands for awhile.

It's true enough that you never have time to do everything you want , she thought. She needed to focus on the important things before situations fell apart.