Chapter Six

In fact, I knew the Aviary on St Andrew's Road. It was a haberdasher's, a particularly nice one. I had shopped there several times for buttons and trim for my dresses. I remembered admiring the golden bird cages full of silk flowers hanging from the ceiling, thinking that something similar with fresh flowers would work well for a party. Now that I was reminded of it, I had a client who usually threw a spectacular ball in the summer, and the cages would look perfect hanging in her orangery.

Floristry inspiration aside, the real question was: why had an extraordinarily handsome and extremely grumpy man thrust a haberdashery owner's business card at me, told me they would help with my situation, and then swirled off like Count Dracula disappearing into the night? (This was, I supposed, not a good analogy because it had been the middle of the day, but there was certainly something of the otherworldly vampire about Oliver Lockhart, and the whole dramatic coat-swirling moment had felt very I'm-about-to-turn-into-a-bat-and-crawl-inside-a-maiden's-window.)

Perhaps it was foolish to go. No, there was no perhaps about it. The man was probably a lunatic. Or maybe he wanted to take his petty revenge over the book-dropping incident by sending me on a wild goose chase.

But I went anyway.

The haberdasher's was just as I remembered. Above the door was a sign, painted in curling golden script:

The AviaryFor all a lady requires

It was late afternoon now. The windows gleamed; large glass vessels filled with buttons were arranged on a swathe of velvet, a rainbow explosion of different colours. The display made me think of jewels or jars of sweets – both an appealing prospect. When I pushed the door I recognized the music of the bell, and I felt the same good feeling I got when I entered Bloom's. This was a place that someone cared about, and it showed.

Polished wooden cabinets lined the walls, while ribbons and trims were arranged on stands, making it all too easy to run them through your fingers, to enjoy that seductive slip of silk against your skin. The bird cages I remembered hung from the ceiling, and I smiled at the clever nod to the shop's name. There were no birds though, only silk flowers made from materials you could buy in the shop. In my mind I found myself twisting jasmine round the gold bars, filling them with a spill of crimson roses. You'd get the perfume then too – heady and romantic.

"May I help you?" a voice asked, and I saw that there was a girl standing behind a desk at the back of the shop. She had red hair and wore a dark dress and a white lacy cap and apron. Her smile was easy, and she looked as neat and well cared for as the shop.

"I'm not sure," I said, stepping towards her. "This is probably going to sound peculiar, but a gentleman gave me a card and told me to bring it here—"

"May I see the card?" the girl broke in.

"Of course." I handed it to her.

When she flipped it over and saw the note from Oliver Lockhart, her eyebrows twitched in the faintest hint of surprise. "Would you mind waiting here for a moment?" she asked smoothly.

"Not at all," I replied.

The girl lifted the heavy velvet curtain behind her to reveal a door, which she opened. Beyond the doorway I spied a small hallway with a staircase running steeply up one side. With a quick reassuring smile, the girl slipped through the curtain.

I was left alone to wait. That was no hardship in a place like this. I moved to a small table, examining the lengths of trim laid out on it with pleasure, choosing a braided mossy green velvet and a jaunty cherry-red silk that I knew Simon would hate but that made something inside me sing.

I chose another trim – shell pink this time – as a gift for Daisy. It would make up for me forgetting to collect her library book. (I had been a bit distracted after the almost-murder/run-in with a possible vampire prince.)

"I'm sorry to have kept you." The shop girl reappeared from behind the curtain, her eyes carefully watchful. "I'm afraid Mrs Finch isn't available at the moment, but she'd be happy to meet with you. If you could leave your name and address with me, then someone will be in touch with you to make the arrangements."

"Thank you." I still had no idea who Mrs Finch was or why this meeting was even taking place, but I supposed I had come this far. I wrote down the address of the shop.

"Oh, Bloom's!" the girl exclaimed, already wrapping up my purchases with deft hands. "I love it there. Sometimes I go out of my way just to walk past and peek at the displays. Such beautiful flowers."

It was my turn to smile with pleasure. "Make sure you stop in next time." I fished out one of my own business cards from my reticule. "Give them this and ask the girls for some of the lavender shortbread. It's delicious."

"I will, thank you." With that, she handed me my parcel and we said our goodbyes before I left.

It was only when I was outside again that I realized that Mrs Finch had kept the card that Oliver Lockhart had given me.

And I wondered why I cared that I didn't have it any more.