Chapter 5

       Shelley

      ‘I’ve been calling you all morning, darling,’ says Eliza, my mother-in-law, when I answer my phone on the way into the village after lunch. ‘Are you driving? Can you talk?’

      ‘I am driving but you’re on loudspeaker,’ I tell her. I’ve been avoiding her calls all morning but now that I hear her familiar voice I wish I’d answered earlier. Maybe I’d have avoided the meltdown that has caused me to be thirty minutes late to take over from Betty, my assistant, at Lily Loves.

      ‘It’s okay to cry today,’ she tells me and I nod as I drive, feeling tears prick my eyes again. ‘Cry every day if you feel like it. It’s all part of your healing process. The colour blue is good for you today, darling, that’s what I am feeling. Look out for it today. It will be good for you. Look out for someone connected to the colour blue who crosses your path.’

      ‘I’m on my way to work,’ I tell her. ‘Did Matt tell you to call me? Please Eliza, I don’t want any fuss today. I need to just try and get on with things and keep busy. It’s the only way I can cope.’

      I pass no remarks on the colour blue she refers to. Some of Eliza’s mystic words of wisdom are of great comfort, but some can’t get past the cynic in me and I push them away to the back of my mind.

      ‘Do whatever you have to do,’ says Eliza and she pauses for a few seconds. ‘You’re going to be okay, Shell. It’s all going to be okay. I am praying for you every day and I am sending light and healing. Positive energy is coming your way and don’t ever forget that.’

      I roll my eyes and try not to give her a smart answer, but I don’t feel like it’s going to be okay no matter how much Eliza prays every day. No matter how many chakras she tries to clear or clean, no matter how much energy she sends, and no matter how many candles she lights for me, I don’t think I will ever be okay again. Apart from Matt, I have no one and nothing in my life to live for and I sometimes worry that even he isn’t enough.

      ‘Thanks for the call,’ I tell Eliza, wanting to end our conversation now as I approach the village. ‘I really do appreciate it.’

      ‘There are good things coming for you real soon,’ she says and I take a deep breath.

      ‘Do you really think so?’ I ask her, before she can hang up. ‘I hope there are, Eliza because I don’t think I can cope with living like this anymore. I need some hope. I think I’m ready for some hope if I could only get a sign.’

      ‘The colour blue, I tell you,’ she says to me. ‘You’ll see the signs when you are ready, Shelley. Look, would you like me to pop by later? We could go to the Beach House for dinner?’

      I know she means well and I know Matt means well but how many times do I have to tell them that I can’t bear to face the world? I want to go to dinner, I want to walk with my head held high, but today I can just about manage to go to work, maybe visit the grocery store afterwards and go home, in that order.

      ‘I don’t think so, Eliza,’ I reply, not wanting to sound ungrateful but I know she will understand. ‘I’m not really up to much today but I do appreciate the offer, you know I do and I will keep looking for those signs. I’m ready to grasp any glimmer of hope that comes my way.’

      ‘Okay, well when you’re ready you know where I am,’ she says. ‘Now, keep those positive thoughts to the forefront. You’ve come such a long way, whether you feel like it or not. Your light will return soon, I just know it will. Your mother is close today. She is sending angels your way. And blue.’

      ‘I’ll try and stay positive,’ I tell her. ‘Have a nice day, Eliza. Goodbye.’

      I hang up and sigh, but despite my nonchalance, I really do appreciate her call. Eliza may just be telling me what I need to hear when I need to hear it, but it all helps and at this stage of my deep grief I would try anything. Anything, that is, that doesn’t involve leaving my shop or my home, which doesn’t give me too many options, does it?

      I park the car alongside the edge of the pier and the sight of the fishing boats all lined up in their usual places makes me smile a little inside. I like familiarity and after thirteen years in this little place, I can finally call it home – though a part of me will always long for my mother’s embrace back north where I grew up, but that’s no longer within my reach. I never meant to settle here, or to stay any longer than a summer break but then I met Matt and the rest is history.

      I make my way to my shop, my safe place where I can distract my mind with idle small chat to customers and sorting out new stock and choosing items from flea markets and online distributors to meet the fashion demands of my colourful clients. Again, the smell of its interior – a faint hint of coffee mixed with frankincense (recommended by Eliza for its healing powers) – fills me up and gives me the strength to keep taking one day at a time.

      Terence, my delivery man is running a day late which never happens but it only serves to distract me. Soon, I’m on my third coffee of the afternoon and I’m trying with all my might to concentrate on a celebrity magazine to take my mind off this day which is dragging despite my attempts to keep busy. Maybe I shouldn’t have opened up this afternoon after all. I should have gone away for the day, somewhere new for a change of scenery, but I honestly can’t remember the last time I ventured any further than where I am standing right now in my shop.

      The bell rings as a customer enters and I bolt up and try to smile a hello at the lady who’s just entered. She browses around the rails near the door like most people do when they come in to Lily Loves. It’s a real treasure trove of colourful, retro pieces and I treat every item of clothing like it’s made of gold. My customers are the only contact with the outside world I choose to have these days, apart from Matt.

      This isn’t a local though. She is a tourist for sure and I need to make sure she feels welcome.

      ‘Hello there,’ she says in a very distinctive brummie accent. ‘What a day!’

      ‘Is it still raining out there?’ I ask her. She is my only customer of the afternoon so far and I’m glad to see her, but I’ll stick to my small talk as usual. I feel safe talking about the weather, clothes and jewellery but I’d die if she struck up a real conversation outside of that.

      She nods and shivers in reply and then gets on with her browsing, much to my relief, so I go back to my magazine where I’m now reading about a woman who shed nine stone, only for her husband to dump her. Nice.

      ‘Do you have this dress in any other sizes?’ the lady asks eventually and I spring back into business mode, eager to talk about what I know best. ‘I seem to have forgotten how changeable the weather is here in Ireland and I packed all wrong.’

      I can see that, I want to say, but of course it isn’t my place to comment on her outfit.

      She is around my age, maybe a little bit older, and has the most beautiful warm smile. I feel bad that I have to tell her that the dress she has chosen, made of a pale green, light wool with a high neck and long sleeves, is the last of only three sizes I took in for the summer collection. She doesn’t seem as disappointed as I am though and goes back to the rail and continues to search.

      ‘I’d really have loved that one but just my luck