“I like your hair. Did Mack do that for you?”

“Yeah, I want it shorter, but Mack says we have to let Grandma get used to it first.”

“Probably true. Your cousin is clever, isn’t she?”

“She’s the best,” Isla agreed enthusiastically.

Flora looked up at Mack and grinned, and she could see Mack blush. It was sweet.

“Okay, come behind the counter, and I’ll show you everything. Mack, can you entertain yourself?”

“Don’t worry about me. On you go. I’ll keep Dex here with me.”

Mack appeared really happy seeing them get on so well.

Flora watched Isla look around all the shelves in wonder.

“Why don’t we start in the storeroom.” Flora led her through to the back of the shop and down the corridor to the storeroom. She opened the door and said, “In you go.”

The shelves of the storeroom were packed floor to ceiling with jars of sweets and boxes of chocolate bars.

Isla gasped. “Wow, it’s like Willy Wonka.”

“That’s what I used to think when I was younger, and”—Flora bent down slightly and whispered—“to be honest, I still think that. I love coming here to work just as much as I did when I came to help my grandpa after school and weekends.”

“This was your grandpa’s shop?”

“Yes, he loved it too. He wanted to keep it as traditional as possible.”

“Like the glass jars?” Isla asked.

“Exactly, let me show you my system.”

Flora was so surprised and glad at how easy it was to talk to Isla. As soon as she saw her hiding behind Mack, she saw the same vulnerability in her eyes as she had suffered her whole life.

Flora lifted one of the plastic jars of sweets down from the shelf. “The sweets come in from the wholesaler in these plastic jars and sometimes tubs. Most other shops display in these too, but I fill up the glass ones from these as needed. There’s something so much more exciting about seeing your favourite sweets displayed like they would have been in the Victorian days.”

Isla nodded. “It’s more magical.”

“It is.”

Isla walked around the shelves pointing as she went. “They’re nice. Oh, Granny loves them.” Then she stopped and turned around in a circle. “They’re in order.”

Flora wasn’t sure what Isla meant. She wouldn’t have noticed her system, would she? “What do you mean—”

“Colour order, kinds of sweets, it feels safe. I like things in order too,” Isla said the last part quietly.

Did she have OCD tendencies like her? She didn’t want to make her feel uncomfortable. The way Isla lowered her voice made her think this subject wasn’t easy for her to talk about. So Flora tried to make it seem not a big deal.