Read Online Welcome To Rosie Hopkins' Sweetshop Of Dreams by Jenny Colgan - Free Book Online
Authors: Jenny Colgan
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had been getting lately, and figured she’d better leave her to it. Plus, she was absolutely starving and didn’t want to stomp around the tiny doll’s-house kitchen.
So she tidied up the sitting room, put a load of laundry into the prehistoric twin tub – how on earth had Lilian managed to look so dapper? It must have been agony for her – changed into a floral frock, a denim jacket and the patterned wellies she’d bought four years ago in an attempt to be hip and go to Glastonbury (which had ended very badly indeed); left a note for Lilian and the door on the latch and stepped out into the morning.
1942
When she first saw them, she couldn’t quite believe it. Four weeks’ worth of ration cards, pale pink cardboard, neatly lined up in a row .
‘What’s this?’ she said coolly, convinced he was buying an enormous box of chocolates for another girl .
Henry looked pink. ‘A large bag of caramels please.’
Blinking nervously, Lilian climbed the little stepladder, conscious of his eyes on her. It was a ravishingly beautiful day outside, and the shop was empty so early .
She filled the bag with the sweet, shining, fudgy caramels. No one took her responsibilities more seriously than Lilian. Her father had made it clear that in times of hardship, they absolutely couldn’t be seen to be taking more than their fair share. He had been so grave when he had said it, asking for her promise on the issue, that Lilian hadn’t had a sweet since. Surrounded by them all day, most of the time she didn’t miss it too much. She didn’t usually eat caramel, had always liked to get more for her money, something with a bit of crunch in it .
The pink-striped bag was bulging by the time Henry put down his sixpence .
‘There you are,’ she said. Henry didn’t pick up the bag .
‘They’re for you,’ he said .
Lilian stared at him. ‘What do you mean?’
‘Your friend told me they were your favourites.’
Ida Delia, thought Lilian. Ida Delia would even tell a fib about something as stupid as that .
‘Are they all for me?’
‘They are,’ said Henry, blushing. ‘Unless you’d like to share one.’
Lilian looked at him, half shocked, half giggling, as her father dinged into the shop .
‘Come on, Lils,’ he said. ‘Get a shuffle on.’ He looked up. ‘Hello, Carr.’ He sniffed quickly, then grabbed the bag. ‘These yours, are they?’
By this time Henry was puce and looked at her in horror. Lilian’s father pressed the sweets into his hands .
‘Well, come on, young man, we haven’t got all day. There’s a war on, you know. You do know?’ he said, with the serious air of a man with three sons fighting and who was looking at a perfectly healthy young man with the time to wander around eating sweets .
Lilian looked at Henry, waiting for him to announce that he’d bought the sweets for her. But poor Henry was in a panic. Such an enormous gesture; he might as well ask for her hand. This wasn’t what he’d expected at all .
‘Uhm, well,’ he began. ‘I’d like to …’
Mr Hopkins had already started examining the ledger. Henry glanced at Lilian, who couldn’t help him, but just looked at him like a big-eyed panic-stricken mouse. He couldn’t read it at all. Was she terrified he was going to say something in front of her father? Had he misjudged the situation entirely? She hadn’t even looked happy that it was caramels; were they really her favourites? He felt a horrid dull flush deepen over his face .
‘I’ll come back for these later,’ he said, then turned round and left. Neither of the Hopkinses said goodbye. Lilian’s fingernails were tightly dug into the palm of her hand .
‘What an odd fellow,’ said her father eventually, then wondered why his daughter was pushing past him into the house. He’d never understood her mother either .
First off, Rosie stopped at the little shop next door. The front of it was ancient, and the mullioned windows, which were of thick glass, could
So she tidied up the sitting room, put a load of laundry into the prehistoric twin tub – how on earth had Lilian managed to look so dapper? It must have been agony for her – changed into a floral frock, a denim jacket and the patterned wellies she’d bought four years ago in an attempt to be hip and go to Glastonbury (which had ended very badly indeed); left a note for Lilian and the door on the latch and stepped out into the morning.
1942
When she first saw them, she couldn’t quite believe it. Four weeks’ worth of ration cards, pale pink cardboard, neatly lined up in a row .
‘What’s this?’ she said coolly, convinced he was buying an enormous box of chocolates for another girl .
Henry looked pink. ‘A large bag of caramels please.’
Blinking nervously, Lilian climbed the little stepladder, conscious of his eyes on her. It was a ravishingly beautiful day outside, and the shop was empty so early .
She filled the bag with the sweet, shining, fudgy caramels. No one took her responsibilities more seriously than Lilian. Her father had made it clear that in times of hardship, they absolutely couldn’t be seen to be taking more than their fair share. He had been so grave when he had said it, asking for her promise on the issue, that Lilian hadn’t had a sweet since. Surrounded by them all day, most of the time she didn’t miss it too much. She didn’t usually eat caramel, had always liked to get more for her money, something with a bit of crunch in it .
The pink-striped bag was bulging by the time Henry put down his sixpence .
‘There you are,’ she said. Henry didn’t pick up the bag .
‘They’re for you,’ he said .
Lilian stared at him. ‘What do you mean?’
‘Your friend told me they were your favourites.’
Ida Delia, thought Lilian. Ida Delia would even tell a fib about something as stupid as that .
‘Are they all for me?’
‘They are,’ said Henry, blushing. ‘Unless you’d like to share one.’
Lilian looked at him, half shocked, half giggling, as her father dinged into the shop .
‘Come on, Lils,’ he said. ‘Get a shuffle on.’ He looked up. ‘Hello, Carr.’ He sniffed quickly, then grabbed the bag. ‘These yours, are they?’
By this time Henry was puce and looked at her in horror. Lilian’s father pressed the sweets into his hands .
‘Well, come on, young man, we haven’t got all day. There’s a war on, you know. You do know?’ he said, with the serious air of a man with three sons fighting and who was looking at a perfectly healthy young man with the time to wander around eating sweets .
Lilian looked at Henry, waiting for him to announce that he’d bought the sweets for her. But poor Henry was in a panic. Such an enormous gesture; he might as well ask for her hand. This wasn’t what he’d expected at all .
‘Uhm, well,’ he began. ‘I’d like to …’
Mr Hopkins had already started examining the ledger. Henry glanced at Lilian, who couldn’t help him, but just looked at him like a big-eyed panic-stricken mouse. He couldn’t read it at all. Was she terrified he was going to say something in front of her father? Had he misjudged the situation entirely? She hadn’t even looked happy that it was caramels; were they really her favourites? He felt a horrid dull flush deepen over his face .
‘I’ll come back for these later,’ he said, then turned round and left. Neither of the Hopkinses said goodbye. Lilian’s fingernails were tightly dug into the palm of her hand .
‘What an odd fellow,’ said her father eventually, then wondered why his daughter was pushing past him into the house. He’d never understood her mother either .
First off, Rosie stopped at the little shop next door. The front of it was ancient, and the mullioned windows, which were of thick glass, could
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