FLEUR'S FLOWER SHOP 2
another children's story from
Rob Haywood
Short floral stories for 3 - 6 year olds
No 4. MRS WINTERBOTTOM'S HAT
No 4. MRS WINTERBOTTOM'S HAT
Fleur’s Flower Shop is on the High Street, right in the middle of town. It is a very clean and smart shop, at the beginning of each day. But very soon, after lots of customers, many bouquets of flowers and gallons of water, the shop soon looks like a tip. But it is still a very clean shop, even if it is untidy. Not the sort of shop that a customer would ever see a mouse in. No mouse could ever live in Fleur’s Flower Shop, because there were no crumbs of stale bread, no bits of stale cake, and most important of all, no lumps of stale cheese. If ever there were mice in Fleur’s Flower Shop, then they were visitors. Mice don’t eat flowers.
Flowerpuss always lived in hope that one day, she would catch a mouse in the shop. Because she loved Fleur ever so dearly, Flowerpuss so wanted to give Fleur a present. A present of a mouse that she had caught herself, for instance. But all Flowerpuss could ever find and catch were . . . spiders! Big h-h-hairy ones with quite a few legs. Flowerpuss didn’t know exactly how many legs spiders have, because they wouldn’t keep still long enough for her to count them. But she knew it was a lot.
The trouble was, Flowerpuss wasn’t really keen on spiders, h-h-hairy or otherwise. In fact, she was rather frightened of them. But she just couldn’t resist catching them. As soon as she saw anything run, she just had to catch it. She was often quite disgusted at herself for catching spiders, but she thought that Fleur liked them. So that was all right then. She would give them to her. Or perhaps even to Fleur’s customers. Perhaps they liked spiders too.
One day, Flowerpuss caught an especially large spider, one like those that we call a “Daddy-Long-Legs”. The fact that it had long legs is not in doubt. Whether or not it was a Daddy or not, who could tell? Perhaps this unfortunate spider had a family somewhere. But it will be a long way away from them by now.
For on this day, Mrs Winterbottom came into the shop to buy some flowers for her daughter, who had just had a baby. Fleur got all the right blooms, cut all the stems to just the right length, and made up a lovely basket for Mrs Winterbottom’s daughter. All this time, Mrs Winterbottom chatted away in a very friendly fashion, leaning on the counter as she often did when chattering. It was so warm that she took of her hat, and laid it next to the till.
It is a shame that Mrs Winterbottom didn’t see Flowerpuss come in from the back of the shop, where Fleur’s crazy cat had just stalked and caught this enormous spider, not a particularly h-h-hairy one, which is just as well considering what happened next.
It had been in Flowerpuss’ mind for some time to present a customer with a present, a sort of goodwill gift, if you like. Here was just the customer. The crazy cat, for you must admit that this was a slightly crazy thing to do, climbed onto the chair that was next to Mrs Winterbottom, and up onto the end of the very long counter. Flowerpuss purred to draw Mrs Winterbottom’s attention. Nothing happened. Flowerpuss purred again. Still, Mrs Winterbottom took not the slightest bit of notice, so engrossed she was with her chatting away to Fleur.
Flowerpuss got fed up, and wondered what to do next. It would be no good giving her present to Fleur, she was far too busy. While she thought about it, Flowerpuss put the spider down on the counter, for it would wriggle about so. The spider, not able to believe its good fortune, made a dash for it, looking for somewhere good and dark to hide. And where, boys and girls, do you think it hid. No, not among the flowers. No, not under the till. It ran and hid . . . under Mrs Winterbottoms hat!
Flowerpuss was quite astonished, and most alarmed, and stared angrily after the spider as it made itself flat, wiggled its legs a bit, and disappeared from view. Like magic. Her instinct was to go after it, get under the hat and fetch the ungrateful creature out. But perhaps not. Now she didn’t know what to do. And what a-to-do. So she supposed she had better go and find another one. Flowerpuss jumped off the counter, and disappeared into the back of the shop, in search of another spider. Preferably, one that would keep still.
It was very dark under the hat, and still quite warm. The spider must have thought that this is a very good place to hide. Of course, being a spider, it didn’t know about hats, or about Mrs Winterbottom’s hat. It climbed right up inside, and snuggled down for a sleep. Being chased by a crazy cat is quite tiring.
Mrs Winterbottom’s basket of flowers were by now ready, she paid Fleur her money and picked up her bag. She was just about ready to leave the shop, when she remembered her hat. She had nearly forgotten it, and it may perhaps have been better if she had. Of course, Mrs Winterbottom had spent so long chatting that she would now nearly miss her bus, so she said a very quick goodbye, rammed her hat upon her head, and rushed out of the door. When Flowerpuss returned just moments later, with the biggest, h-h-hairiest spider you ever did see, Mrs Winterbottom was nowhere to be seen.
The spider in Mrs Winterbottom’s hat was not a good traveller. Riding in hats was not something he was normally keen upon. Riding in hats whilst upon a very full bus was a totally knew and frightening experience for a simple shop spider. He didn’t like being near so many people. He had to get out.
Mrs Winterbottom had just paid her fare to the conductor, and held out her hand for her ticket. So you can imagine her surprise when into it dropped, not her ticket, but the huge Daddy-Long-Legs. The conductor nearly had a fit. Mrs Winterbottom nearly had kittens. The bus driver, on hearing the scream, nearly went the wrong way. The rest of the passengers nearly went barmy.
We do not know for certain what happened after that. Except that the spider went on a very long journey, and Mrs Winterbottom avoided riding on buses for a very long time. We can suppose that she never did find out just where the Daddy-Long-Legs came from. But she told all her friends that it belonged to the conductor, who got the sack for wifully frightening old ladies.
Flowerpuss, however, sat on the counter and kept a very firm hold on her huge spider, which wriggled a bit, because it wasn’t very comfortable. She purred when Fleur leaned across and stroked her. She was almost tempted to drop the wriggling spider into Fleur’s hand. But no. She could wait. There was bound to be another customer come into the shop soon.
THE END
Copyright © 1996 Robert Haywood
