To suggest that the spontaneous opening of Marian's Emporium caused a stir in the small town of Endeavour would be a politician's understatement.

The town practically buzzed with the news that not only was there a new business in town, but it was, in the words of Mrs Harris, “...the strangest little place I've ever been in, and that girl... well, let's just say that Endeavour has never seen her like before.”

This particular comment had been evoked by a rather odd visit, in which Mrs. Florence Harris, on the intention of surveying the perceived new competition to her little cafe, had entered the aboreal-tinted Emporium. The only person who had been in the shop at the time had been the well-acknowledged pillar of town integrity, a Mrs Elizabeth McCarthy, who had been “having a sticky beak at the new girl” and sampling the camomile tea advertised outside on a weathered-looking sandwich board.

Liz McCarthy had been most amused to spot that old harridan Flo (the fact that she herself was more than a decade older than Florence Harris was cheerfully disregarded) wandering in with a studied air of faux-disinterest, as though she was merely entering the Emporium in a vain attempt to ward off boredom. Dressed in a no-nonsense collared shirt and slacks, Flo was a vision of matronly properness, her shoe-box sized handbag in flowery canvas no-doubt crowded with all the “essentials” that she couldn't live without: a tube of orangey lipstick for “touch ups”, tissues, a pen or two, a copy of Womens' Weekly, a small umbrella, her stout daily planner, and her no-frills mobile phone. The last was a concession to the times and convenience, and had been acquired only after much um-ing and ah-ing, courtesy of Flo's daughter Celeste, who was now a prissy university student, with little regard for her mother's wariness for modern technology.

And so, this paragon of small-town respectability entered the Emporium, sniffing slightly at both the scents of sandalwood incense and exotic spices, and the sight of a rather elaborate painting at the end of the room, that displayed a rugged, half-dressed man lounging in a grassy garden bed, with a look in his eye that appeared half-smug, half-appraising, and entirely amused. Despite the fact that he was clearly composed of oil paints and not flesh, Flo felt as though he might be laughing at her, and so instinctively bristled a little.

“He's quite the charmer, isn't he?”

Flo spun, to see that the diminuitive shop-owner had sidled up to her, absent mindedly flicking at her long braid as she too examined the painting with a critical eye. Today, she was clad in what appeared to be a moss-green peasant dress, that would have looked quite at home at any Medieval Fete, like the one that Flo's daughter Celeste had laughingly described to her, that one of her many boyfriends had “dragged” her to.

Marian seemed to be only a few years older than Celeste, and Flo found herself wondering what the young woman had been doing in the years between highschool and her new enterprise, before remembering that the reportedly half-Spanish girl had just commented on the man in the painting.

“I think he's full of himself, a typical young upstart,” Flo said snottily, and so was completely taken aback when Marian started snorting with laughter.

“He can be sometimes, but mostly it's just that he's overconfident. His current boyfriend said much the same thing when he first saw the painting, but once you get to know him, Nathaniel is a pretty loyal friend, albeit about as vain as a peacock.” Apparently unaware of Flo's suddenly uneasy expression, Marian babbled on, “He might be coming next month with an exhibit of his that he wants to ship to me, it all depends on whether he can get away from work. He's an architect, and you wouldn't believe the people he has as clients at the moment...”

Sipping from a saffron-yellow mug, Liz watched the dichotomous pair, her eyes crinkling a little at the edges as she observed the flabberghasted expression on Flo's face as Marian continued to speak, stream-of-consciousness style, about the man in the painting. The expected encounter had gone in a completely different way than she might have predicted, with Marian's blithe running commentary about the painting, and some of the other paintings in the display completely subverting the confrontation that had seemed inevitable to the inhabitants of Endeavour. Flo had run her small coffee shop for more than thirty years, and during that time had managed to put no fewer than four aspiring cafes out of business, occasionally revamping the interior to keep up with the times, but generally surviving due to the combination of the quality of her coffee, and the loyalty of her customers, who comprised most of the coffee-drinking society of Endeavour.

Deciding that she wanted to have some fun, Liz finished her tea with a quick gulp, and rose slowly from her seat, brushing invisible crumbs from her lilac button-down dress with gnarled hands that were slightly swollen with arthritus at the knuckles.

She picked up her bag, a patch-work affair that her grandson had picked out for her at the last fete, and made her way towards the two cafe-owners.

To her immense surprise, despite having been seemingly absorbed in her own monologue, Marian turned to her then, and asked her how she had enjoyed her tea.

“It was quite satisfactory. Thankyou. I see you've met Mrs Harris, better known as Flo?” Liz couldn't resist the introduction, knowing that Flo would have much preferred to become known on her own terms.

“Ah, so you're the owner of Henry and Flo's? I'd been hoping to meet you, I went in the other day to have some of your legendary coffee and saw that you hadn't removed that poster yet, didn't Kylie mention it?”

Flo blinked. She had a vague recollection of her husband Henry mentioning something that the new server (Stephanie's daughter, was her name Kaylee?) had said about that poster, but as she had been in the middle of doing the accounts, she hadn't been paying attention at the time.

She regretted that now.

“Which poster was it? And why should I remove it? My brother sent me that one from when he went on vacation to Argentina or somewhere.” She had actually been quite surprised at the gesture, as normally Adrian was not the type to send gifts, particularly since the quarrel they had had when Adrian had decided to divorce his lovely wife Jessica, so that he could shack up with that bitch from Wollomi Heights.

Something akin to understanding suddenly dawned on Marian's face, with what appeared to be suspiciously close to amusement creeping from below the surface. She bent forward to whisper in Flo's ear, her bronze necklace swinging slightly, as Liz watched in fascination the colours that Flo's face changed.

Marian looked quite apologetic when she moved back again, and said, “I just thought you might like to know what the poster really said. I mean, it's not like that many people speak Spanish in these parts, but still...”

Glaring slightly at both Marian and the openly curious Liz, Flo straightened her already-perfect blouse and spun on her heel, on an instant warpath. Henry was going to be sleeping on the couch tonight, and that new girl... (Kylie! That was it!) was going to be looking for a new job for not telling her, the proprietress about the poster. The nerve of people...

If the shop door hadn't have been propped open with a table bearing a selection of bonsai, it was probable that Flo would have slammed it.

Liz noticed how Marian was biting her lip slightly, her expression inscrutable.

“Damn. I hope I haven't offended her- it's not my fault that her brother sent her a poster advertising condoms,” Marian muttered to herself, seeming to have temporarily forgotten that Liz was still there.

This impression was foiled, as Marian turned to look at her customer shrewdly, taking in the wild shades-of-grey hair, the enamelled cat-shaped pendant, and the scuffed podiatrist-approved sandals that Liz's grand-niece had insisted on getting her.

“Try not to laugh at her too much- I don't really feel like setting this all up again in another town, and the man who sold me the lease was kind enough to warn me about my 'competitor',” Marian murmured, her hands making the quotation marks in the air before smiling wryly at Liz.

Liz snorted.

“I'll do my best, but I don't mind telling you that a little public humiliation might be good for that woman. She might have the oldest coffee-shop in Endeavour, and her coffee might be bloody good, but the old biddy is a power-hungry witch,” she replied, remembering how her niece had come home in tears after being fired for “poor customer service”. It hadn't been poor Elise's fault that she'd tripped and spilt coffee all over that snotty daughter of Flo's, and firing the girl for a complete accident was just petty in Liz's book.

Remembering that she had an appointment with the pharmacist for some more pain-relief medicine for her arthritus, Liz nodded her head towards Marian, thanking her again for the tea before shuffling out the door.

She didn't see Marian slump back into the chair closest to her, and nor did she see the tears that streamed down Marian's cheeks.

Liz did, however, hear with her wrinkled ears the hysterical laughter that Marian let loose within moments of her exit.

Smiling a little despite herself, Liz stumped down the dust and leaf-strewn pathway, absent-mindedly avoiding the cracks in the pavement with the ease of familiarity.

So that was the girl that had been occupying Jesse's mind recently. He hadn't said anything, but then, her grandnephew never really was one to voice his feelings much about any subject.

He didn't really need to- to Liz, at least, Jesse's expression when Marian had come up in conversation, when his eyes had suddenly looked through her, was more than eloquent. Well, the boy always did have an odd taste in women, but in this case at least, Liz would not be afraid to give her approval.

Even if the girl considered costumes that any theatre would be dying to get their hands on to be sensible work gear, anyone who could manoevre a Flo Harris like that was a person that Liz could see being quite good for her grandnephew.

Besides, she knew the value of a good cup of camomile.

Okay people, you know the drill. Let me know what you think, and in particular...

What foods do you think should feature in the “Interesting” selection of Marian's menu? I already have some planned, but any suggestions would be well considered.

What costume should Marian appear in next? Again, I'm taking requests, so feel free to drop me a line.

Also, this is but the newest of my projects- if you liked this, then feel free to check out my profile for my other works- I write everything from sci-fi to fantasy to a little (on occasion raunchy) poetry. Ciao! Erisah.