The Little Unicorn Gift Shop: A heartwarming romance with a bit of sparkle in 2018!

About the Author

KELLIE HAILES declared at the age of five that she was going write books when she grew up. It took a while for her to get there, with a career as a radio copywriter, freelance copywriter and web writer filling the dream-hole, until now. Kellie lives on an island-that’s-not-really-an-island in New Zealand with her patient husband, funny little human and neurotic cat. When the characters in her head aren’t dictating their story to her, she can be found taking short walks, eating good cheese and jonesing for her next coffee fix.

Also by Kellie Hailes

The Cosy Coffee Shop of Promises

The Big Little Festival

Christmas at the Second Chance Chocolate Shop

The Little Unicorn Gift Shop

KELLIE HAILES

HQ

An imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd.

1 London Bridge Street

London SE1 9GF

First published in Great Britain by HQ in 2018

Copyright © Kellie Hailes 2018

Kellie Hailes asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.

E-book Edition © August 2018 ISBN: 9780008301729

Version: 2018-07-13

Table of Contents

Cover

About the Author

Also by Kellie Hailes

Title Page

Copyright

Dedication

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Epilogue

Acknowledgements

Read on for a Sneak Peek at Cosy Coffee Shop of Promises…

About the Publisher

For ‘The Manor Girls’. Friends, forever.

Chapter 1

An ear-piercing trilling ripped Ben from the soundest sleep he’d had in weeks. His hand blindly scrambled round his bedside table, searching for his phone. Who could be calling at this time of night? He’d collapsed into bed just after midnight, so he knew it had to be late. He peeled open one eye. It was nowhere-near-dawn kind of late if the pitch-blackness in his room was anything to go by. Finding the phone, he squinted against the glare of the screen to see who would be so rude as to ring at such an ungodly hour.

His heart, already thumping from the shock of being yanked out of his sleep, ratcheted up to a worrying state.

Poppy.

Apprehension settled heavy in his stomach. If she was calling at this time of night it couldn’t be for any good reason.

He peered at the screen. Not a phone call, a video call. Well, that ruled out her being in prison, at least. He was pretty sure they still only allowed voice calls.

He glanced at the time. Just gone three. Which made it the afternoon, maybe, if she was still in New Zealand. Though knowing Poppy, she could have tired of the place and moved on to South America, where no doubt she’d be in a jungle hugging a tree in protest of it and its foliage-filled friends being cut down.

He swiped across and watched the internet decide whether it was going to connect him to her or not. A creased forehead and impatient stare gave him his answer.

‘Ben? You there? Ben? Can you hear me?’

Ben clicked the sound down and reminded himself to mute his phone before he went to sleep from now on. ‘I hear you, Poppy.’ He stifled a yawn. ‘Where are you? Are you okay? Are you in trouble? Do you need bail money?’

‘Of course I’m okay.’ Poppy rolled her eyes. ‘I’m not a teenager, Ben. You don’t have to keep me from getting into trouble anymore. Not that you could’ve if you wanted to. And bail money? Really? I’ve never been in that kind of trouble. God, dramatic much?’

‘Fair enough. Sorry, Pops, but when I get a call in the middle of the night I fear the worst.’ Ben folded his pillow in half and elbowed his way into a half-sitting position.

‘Fine. Whatever. And turn on your light. It’s weird talking to the black hole of Ben.’

‘Sorry. Forgot you couldn’t see me.’ Ben switched the phone to his other hand, then leaned over and flicked on the bedside lamp. Its golden glow illuminated the small space around him.

‘Geez, Ben, what’ve you been doing?’ Poppy’s hand covered her eyes, her fingers splitting apart to peek through at him. ‘Do you even work these days? Or do you spend all your waking hours at the gym?’

‘Huh?’ Ben peered at the square on the phone to see what Poppy was seeing. ‘Oh, God, sorry, Pops.’ He pulled the sheet up to his armpits. ‘There, all decent.’

Poppy’s hand fell down, a wide grin lifting her cheekbones high as strands of her black hair blew in front of her face. ‘Ugh, blimmin’ wind. It’s so cold I’m amazed my lips haven’t frozen together. I’ll be glad to come home to a bit of warmth.’

Ben straightened up in bed. Had he heard what he thought he’d heard? ‘Come home? What are you on about?’

‘Well, I’ve been travelling for over a decade now. It’s time I returned. I mean, look at this place. It’s freezing. My plane ticket’s all booked.’ She switched the phone’s camera around and moved it slowly, showing him a snow-covered mountain range that sloped down to a tumultuous grey-green sea, its waves crashing onto a beach smothered in time-smoothed stones.

‘It’s beautiful,’ Ben observed. ‘And it gets freezing here too, remember?’

The camera switched back to Poppy. ‘Yeah, but here is not home, and it’s time.’

‘And why are you telling me this, Poppy?’ Ben yawned, not bothering to hide his tiredness. He had a busy day at the office ahead of him tying up loose ends, and he had to make sure his finances were in order for when he viewed the shop he hoped to lease in three days’ time. ‘More importantly, can you make it quick? It’s beyond the middle of the night and I’ve got to get some sleep if I’m going to function like a human being tomorrow.’

‘Fine, fine, Mr Busy Pants.’ Poppy grinned. ‘I just need you to do me a favour and pick me up from Heathrow. I’ll send you through the details.’ She flapped a hand in his direction. ‘Now go back to sleep. Get some rest. I’ll see you soon.’ She blew a kiss and wiggled her fingers in goodbye, before signing off, leaving Ben staring at a Poppy-less screen.

Poppy Taylor was coming home.

An email alert popped up on his screen. He opened it and scanned the contents.

Not only was Poppy Taylor coming home, she was having him pick her up on the day he was meeting with his potential landlord. He worked out the time it would take to drive from Heathrow to Muswell Hill. He could do it. Just. Assuming traffic wasn’t awful.

You could just say no…

He untucked his pillow and settled back into bed. As if no was an option. No was never an option where Poppy was concerned. Even after all these years.

Chapter 2

‘Excuse me.’ Poppy dodged and ducked her way through the throng of people squealing, hugging and, sometimes, crying into each other’s arms as family, friends and lovers arrived from their various destinations. Every few seconds she went on tiptoe to search the crowd waiting at arrivals for a familiar face. Not just a familiar face, a friendly one. ‘Where is he?’ she wondered aloud, as she hefted her bulging backpack a little higher to stop the waist belt further cutting into her hips.

‘Poppy?’

She spun round and found herself gazing into warm brown eyes. The very same pair that had greeted her when she’d poked her head through the hedge that had bordered their properties when they were four years old.

‘Ben.’ She wrapped her arms around him and pulled him into a hug. The muscles she’d briefly viewed during their video call were no figment of her imagination. Ben was toned. ‘Now tell me…’ She pulled back and squeezed his biceps. ‘Where did these come from?’

Ben shrugged, a faint glow rising on his cheeks. ‘I swim at the gym every morning. Then do weights if I feel like it.’

‘All that on top of being a fancy pants lawyer?’ Poppy threaded her arm through Ben’s and let him lead her through the crowds. ‘Do you ever sleep?’

‘I do. When I’m not being woken in the middle of the night.’ He nudged her with his elbow. ‘Now can we up the pace? I’ve got a business meeting I have to get to.’

‘All work and no play makes Ben a—’

‘Makes Ben a late boy. And I can’t be. I’m opening a business. Well, I’m planning to. But I need to secure the premises first, and I think I’ve found the perfect spot.’

Poppy quickened her step as Ben pulled her through the busy airport, ducking out of the way of the dawdling travellers. ‘Business? What kind of business? And how do you plan on running a business when you’ve a day job and apparently one hot bod to maintain?’

Ben’s cheeks lost their blush as he propelled her to the carpark and towards a sleek, black Audi. ‘This is me.’ He opened the door for her, then strode to his side of the car and got in. ‘And I won’t be doing both jobs. I’m leaving law.’

‘You say that like it’s the end of the world.’ Poppy ran her hands over the seat’s buttery leather. Ben was leaving a job that had bought him this to set up a shop? And it sounded as though the thought of it was making him sick. Or perhaps it was the risk? Taking risks wasn’t Ben’s way. He’d always been the solid, dependable one. The one who made his parents proud… Ah. The green tinge to his skin suddenly made sense. Ben’s father was a lawyer. Ben had done as expected and followed his father into law. Leaving it couldn’t have been easy on Ben. And she’d have bet all of the worldly goods she owned, all that were tucked into the backpack Ben had placed into the boot of the car, that his father wouldn’t be making his defection easy on him.

‘Buckled up?’ Ben started the engine and focused on the backup mirror’s camera as he reversed out of the park.

Poppy relaxed into the seat and took a moment to inspect her old friend. Twelve years had changed him, and yet he was the same. Fine lines framing the outer corners of his eyes crinkled as he focused on the road. Time had seen the soft curves of his jawline and cheeks evaporate into sharp lengths. Yet, as always, his chin and cheeks were bare of stubble. Still, there was no denying Ben’s boyish good looks were there, albeit more… manly. Stronger. Defined. The kind that probably had women’s knees going a little – or a lot – wobbly when he walked past. Poppy patted her knees. Solid as two knobbly rocks. Ben may have been good to look at – better than good – but he was the serious, settling down type. And she wasn’t. Which made her interest in Ben strictly platonic.

‘Could you stop staring?’ The corners of his lips lifted up into a smile. ‘I feel like a bug under a microscope.’

Ben’s eyes flicked in her direction, then refocused on the road. Yep, between that smile and those eyes, and the rest of the Ben-shaped package, Poppy suspected Ben had more than his share of admirers.

‘Sorry, Ben the Bug, can’t help it. It’s been ages.’ Poppy stretched her legs, and circled her neck backwards then forwards to release the tension of being cooped up in a metal bird for so many hours. ‘You don’t do social media so I can’t stalk photos of you, and you haven’t picked up a video call from me in longer than I can remember, so I feel like I’m seeing you for the first time in forever.’

‘I didn’t pick up your calls because you call during work hours.’

‘I figured that, eventually. That’s why I called in the middle of the night. I knew you’d have to answer.’ Poppy unzipped her carry-on bag, found a tube of lip balm and applied it, smacking her lips together in satisfaction. She may have had years away from Ben, with minimal contact, but that didn’t mean she didn’t know him.

‘I could have had my phone turned off. Or on silent.’

Poppy grinned at his churlish tone. ‘Not the Ben I know. He’s far too responsible. If your parents needed you, or if work was to have some kind of emergency, I knew you’d need to be on hand to deal with it.’

‘Wow, you make me sound boring… and in need of a life.’ A frown sent lines sprawling across Ben’s forehead.

‘Don’t get all upset about it, Ben. I’m not saying you’re boring, or in need of a life. I just knew you’d answer, that’s all.’ Poppy crossed her arms over her chest and tucked her hands into her armpits. Since when had Ben become so touchy?

‘No, it’s not you. It’s the time. It’s later than I thought. And this driver in front of me is going at a snail’s pace.’ The car surged forward as Ben stepped on the accelerator and manoeuvred into the next lane.

Poppy released her hands and gripped onto the edges of the seat. ‘Steady on, Ben. No need to speed.’

‘I’m not.’ He flapped his hand at the speedometer. ‘There’s no way I’m going to get pulled over and make myself even later.’ He ran his hand through his short, sandy brown hair. The same cut he’d always had. Shorter on the sides, with a little length up top. ‘No, it’ll be fine. It has to be.’

‘Do you want me to call the landlord for you? Explain you’ll be late?’ Poppy held out her hand. ‘My phone’s dead. Give me yours.’

‘No, not a good idea. That’ll make me look like I’m unreliable. He might think I’ll be late with payments. I was hoping to have time to pop home and grab a fresh shirt, but I’ll just have to make do with the one I keep spare in the back. It’s not the exact right shade to go with the tie or jacket, but it’ll do. It’ll have to.’

Poppy bit a laugh back, sensing that giggling at Ben’s super-serious suit dilemma when he was this stressed would only inflame the situation.

‘And you’ll have to wait in the car before I drop you… wait, where am I dropping you?’ Ben’s eyebrow cocked as he glanced at her. ‘You never said. Are you staying at your mum’s house?’

Poppy’s stomach shrivelled. She took a deep breath as the unappetising meal of frittata and fruit salad they’d been served on the plane threatened to deboard. Stay with her mother? Not if she could help it. The plan was to keep her distance as long as possible. Why invite pain back into her life when she’d spent twelve years trying to keep it out? She waved the suggestion away. ‘No, not Mum’s. I’ve found a studio in Muswell Hill. And waiting is fine. I’ve nowhere to be. I’ll just work on my plans while you have your meeting.’

‘Plans? Since when has Poppy Taylor planned anything? You didn’t even plan leaving to head off overseas. You just took off.’

There was no missing the bitter edge to Ben’s words, but no way was Poppy going to explain why she left. Not to Ben of all people. The events that had led to her leaving were best left well alone.

‘I’m not eighteen anymore, Ben. Believe it or not, I’ve become rather good at planning and organising. You have to when you’re travelling. When you move around a lot. The thing is, you’re not the only one who’s planning on starting a business. I’ve one in mind, too. A gift shop, featuring all things unicorn. And I think Muswell Hill may well be the perfect place to set up shop.’

Ben’s lips quirked, then mashed together, then quirked up again.

‘What? You think I’m not serious? You don’t think I can?’ Poppy re-folded her arms, more to stop herself from punching Ben in the arm than to shield herself from his amused disbelief.

Ben’s chest rose and fell, his lips straightened out. ‘It’s not that I don’t think you can, I just didn’t expect you to say that. I mean a business is a lot of work. You can’t just flit in and out. You have to think ahead. You have to be serious. And, well, just how serious is a unicorn gift shop?’

‘It’s very serious. You wouldn’t know. You’ve spent your working life with your head in textbooks and papers and whatnot. Your lack of online presence alone tells me you’ve no idea about the explosion of unicorn everything. People love them. Not just kids either. Teens. People in their twenties. Thirties. Everyone. There are webpages dedicated to them. My social media feeds are dotted with random snaps of them. They’re huge. Which means my unicorn gift shop is going to draw crowds from all around, you’ll see.’ Poppy gave a definitive nod. Ben’s reaction only added fuel to her plans. He thought she was the same old flighty, fun Poppy? Well, he was going to find out otherwise. ‘Anyway, you never told me what business you were planning to open?’ Poppy gazed out at the window, her heart picking up pace as she took in the streets whizzing past. As familiar to her as the back of her hand, these were streets she’d roamed day and night, her mother giving her more freedom than any child should ever have. Freedom, when what she’d really wanted was love. To feel loved. To feel wanted. The only person who’d made her feel that way sat opposite her. But that was a long time ago. Things had changed. She had changed.

‘A gourmet tea shop.’ Ben expertly parallel parked outside a row of houses around the corner from the shops. ‘High-end teas sourced from around the globe. Delicious cakes. Slices. Biscuits.’

‘And who’ll be making these cakes and slices? You?’ Poppy released her seatbelt and got out of the car. She lifted her arms in a long stretch, breathed in the sun-warmed air, and allowed herself a small smile as she took in the terraced homes, many fronted by perfectly clipped hedges perched atop matching brick fences. So different to the wooden one-storeyed Sixties-style bungalows and Eighties-built style-free square boxes that had lined the street she’d flatted in last.

The slam of the car door brought her attention back to Ben, who was expertly knotting his tie.

‘Yes, me.’ He scooped up a suit jacket and shrugged it on, then buttoned it up. ‘I’ll be doing the baking.’

‘Really?’ Poppy released the stretch, then leaned against the car. ‘I know you were the king of Home Economics at school but baking at school is one thing – baking for business is another.’

‘And you’d know this how?’ Ben locked his car and started up the street.

‘Am I coming with you?’ Poppy trailed after him. ‘I thought I was to stay with the car.’

‘You can come for the walk if you want. I’d have thought you’d be tired of being stuck inside. Or you can stay here. Do what you want. I don’t care.’

He could say he didn’t care, but the squaring of his shoulders and the frostiness in his voice told her otherwise. Stupid, Poppy. She’d just pooh-poohed his business idea. Pooh-poohed him. It was one thing to listen to her horrid inner critic that always tried to make her second-guess her abilities, her worth, but she had no right to project that inner critic onto Ben. Not when she knew how determined and disciplined Ben could be. He could have taken night classes. Watched online tutorials. Done any number of things to learn how to bake for the masses, and she wouldn’t know. Their steady stream of communication when she’d first left had turned into a trickle over the years as Ben had become busier. His emails shorter. To the point. And, eventually, she’d got the point, Ben didn’t have time for her. Yet she’d still emailed on occasion, whenever she moved, just so someone at home knew where she was in case anything went wrong.

Poppy jogged a few steps to catch up with Ben. ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you. I’m an idiot. I should know better. Whenever you put your mind to something you make it work. More than that, you succeed. You always have. I bet you could enter a baking competition on the telly and win. Easily.’

‘I bet I could too. And it’s not like I stopped baking once I left school. It’s been my stress relief for as long as I can remember. It also made me very popular at work when I brought in the previous night’s goods.’ Ben turned onto a bustling side street, dotted with shops that hadn’t been there when she left. A generic chain-store coffee shop, a designer clothing store, a store selling cutesy baby gear. She spotted the charity store where she’d got most of her wardrobe from as a youngster. Got? More like stolen. Hunching in the doorway in the middle of the night, rifling through bags left at the door, praying she wouldn’t be caught, not wanting to admit to anyone that her mother was too busy with her art and friends and gregarious lifestyle to be bothered to think her daughter might need clothes. To be bothered to think, or care, about her daughter at all.

Give big anonymous donation to store. Poppy added the thought to the top of her mental ‘to-do’ list.

Next to the charity store stood an empty shop, a ‘for lease’ sign hanging in its window. Was the sign a sign? Was that the shop she could set up her business in? Lightness infused her heart, dispersing the dread she hadn’t realised had been sitting dark and heavy. She’d take note of the number and call the shop’s owner once she was settled in her new place.

Ben crossed the street then stopped in front of the shop. Her shop. No, surely not. He wasn’t stealing her shop from underneath her, was he? Not that he knew it was her shop, but it had to be. She felt it deep down. The same way she’d known deep down that it was time to come home.

‘How do I look?’ He straightened his shoulders, ran his hand over his perfect-as-always hair and flashed her a winning smile.

‘Perfect. Is the shop around the corner? On the main road?’

‘No. It’s this one, right here.’ He angled his head towards the space. ‘It suits my budget, and the street’s busy, and close enough to the main street that people won’t be put off making a small detour to visit.’

‘You’ve thought it all out.’ Of course he had. That’s what Ben did. His life had been mapped out since he was young. He didn’t do anything without careful thought. The opposite of herself. She’d figured she’d come home, find a flat, nab herself a space, place an order for a bunch of cute unicorn product and watch the customers and money roll in. She’d not even thought about budgets, other than to have enough money in the bank to start the business.