The Bookshop of Second Chances Jackie Fraser (ebook reader macos .txt) 📖

hideous party. I’m not like that.’

‘Maybe he fancies a change,’ says Edward. I can’t read his expression, which is unusual.

‘Yeah, I doubt it.’

‘What did Cerys say?’

‘She said he’d asked about, um…’ I’m unexpectedly embarrassed. ‘You know, about us. Me and you.’

‘Ah, well, there you go then.’

‘My, that’s flattering, isn’t it? If he’s asked me to have dinner because he thinks for some mad reason that it might annoy you.’

‘There’s probably a bit more to it than that.’

‘You reckon? I guess I’ll find out. I’ll ask him.’

Edward looks at me, arms folded. ‘What will you ask?’

I put my head on one side. ‘Hey, Charlie boy, you wanna fuck me or you just wanna fuck with your brother?’

The frown on his face disappears when he laughs. ‘You’re hilarious.’

‘I know, right?’

‘You wouldn’t really say that?’

‘Why not?’

‘I don’t know.’ He shakes his head. ‘Bloody hell.’

‘I wouldn’t want to find out afterwards,’ I say. ‘Imagine the hu-mil-iation.’

‘It’s put you in a good mood, I see.’

‘Only ’cos it’s funny. It’s pretty funny, isn’t it? I mean, it’s a funny way to get at you, if that’s what he’s doing. I know you don’t like him but surely you wouldn’t care much if–’

‘I wouldn’t find it desperately amusing,’ he says, ‘if you slept with my brother.’

We look at each other.

‘No, but… it’s not much good as revenge, is it? Oh yeah, Edward shagged my wife, so I thought I’d cop off with his staff?’

The frown was back for a moment there but now he’s laughing again. ‘“Cop off with”, what kind of phrase is that?’

‘I dunno, it’s northern I think. One of my housemates at uni used to say it. We’d go sharking, with the hope of copping off. I don’t think it meant “have sex with” actually, just get off with.’

‘Don’t get off with my brother.’

‘Ha ha, don’t worry. Whether or not he fancies me is moot. I definitely don’t fancy him.’

‘That never stopped anyone,’ he says, drily.

‘It might not stop you. It would stop me though. Especially as your brother has all kinds of disadvantages.’

‘Why go at all, then?’

‘I told you. Curiosity.’

He shakes his head. ‘That’s why you went to that party. Regretted it though, didn’t you?’

‘I did a bit, yeah, but it was interesting. And if your brother manages to make me feel common on what isn’t “not a date”, well.’ I laugh. ‘That would be a poor effort. Unless he wants to pull some kind of, you know, My Fair Lady shit. Or that other thing, what is it, King whatsit. Cophetua. Is that right?’

‘King Cophetua and the beggar maid?’

‘That’s the chap. Where’s that from? Shakespeare? I only know it because Harriet Vane talks about it when Lord Peter asks her to marry him.’

‘Don’t marry my brother.’

This makes me laugh even harder. ‘Oh my God, can you imagine? I’d flounce home, demanding people call me “my lady”.’ I snort. ‘I’d be tempted, just to annoy everyone.’

He looks at me.

‘Not really,’ I say. ‘I’m joking.’ I chuckle to myself. ‘Oh God, though.’

‘Thea.’

‘Yes?’

‘I know this will sound… it might sound rude. And I don’t mean to insinuate that my brother might have an ulterior motive. You’re an attractive woman–’

I snort even more loudly.

‘But you know I think he might be… I think you should be careful.’

‘Careful? What, d’you think he might try and roofie me?’ I pause. ‘Would that be the verb do you think? I am roofied, you are roofied, he roofies, she roofies, I don’t know, what do you reckon? About the word,’ I add, ‘not the chance he’ll drug me.’ I laugh again.

‘Jesus Christ.’ He covers his eyes with his hand.

‘What?’

‘I’m serious.’

‘Look. I don’t care one way or the other about Charles. Therefore, it’s of no consequence if he has an ulterior motive. It’s not like I’ll be upset. “Oh, but I thought you liked me, boo hoo.” There was me choosing a trousseau, and then it turns out he only asked me because he wanted to annoy you. And like I say, it’s a pretty crappy revenge, isn’t it? He’d be better off waiting for you to meet someone you like. You’re only forty-seven or whatever, it could still happen.’

He turns away. ‘Unlikely.’

‘Yeah, maybe, but… Or he could, I don’t know, buy all the second-hand books in Scotland or tell Lara’s husband you’re going to elope or something. Mess up your little arrangement.’

‘I wouldn’t care about that. And he probably couldn’t buy all the secondhand books in Scotland.’

‘What would you do if you were him? Since you’re Mr Rewengay.’

He turns back for a moment. ‘Yeah,’ he says, ‘I’d probably be able to come up with something.’

‘Go on then, do tell.’

‘I’ll let you know,’ he says, ‘if he ever pulls it off.’

‘Oh, boo.’

‘Anyway, enough. Haven’t you got any work to do?’

I’m in the pub with Jenny, Cerys and Edward the following evening. Although Edward’s reading something on his phone, so I wouldn’t count him as present exactly. We’re talking about my dinner date tomorrow.

‘And I just have no idea what to wear. Something about invitations from Charles make me want to dress like the women from the Human League,’ I say.

Jenny cackles with laughter. ‘What the hell?’

‘I mean like desperately early eighties but sophisticated. You know. Um. A little hat with a veil. Shoulder pads. Possibly a peplum?’ We’re all reduced to helpless hysteria by this.

‘Oh my God. A peplum?’ Cerys wipes her eyes.

‘Yes, and maybe patterned tights, you know. Polka dots?’

Jilly grasps my arm. ‘Oh, oh, or a bow on the ankle.’

‘Oh my God.’

‘A clutch?’ suggests Cerys.

‘Yes, to tone with the hat. I used to cut pictures out of my mum’s catalogue of outfits I thought were particularly elegant,’ I say. ‘That little hat with a bird’s eye veil is always tempting.’

Jenny nods. ‘Like Joan Collins.’

‘Yes, exactly! Joan Collins in The Bitch, probably.’

‘Oh, you should. You could probably get all that in the charity shop.’

‘What was that woman’s name,’ says Cerys, ‘the one in the Polo advert?’

‘Polos?’

‘No, no, you know, the VW Polo. Or Golf? Where she strops out of