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

‘How old is he?’

‘Fourteen.’

‘Not as tall as you though.’

‘Ha, no, I think he was annoyed. He’s taller than his dad.’

I laugh. ‘So what are you doing tomorrow?’

‘I’m going to see Geoff Whitley, see if I can sell him the Ovid.’

‘Oh, yeah, you said. Confident?’

‘Yep.’

I laugh again. ‘Good.’

‘Has HH had her tea?’

‘Yes. She’s sitting at the other end of the sofa,’ I say, turning to look at her.

‘Not deigned to sit on your lap?’

‘Not yet.’

We talk briefly about the weather, what I had for my tea and other fascinating subjects. I think this is the first time we’ve had a meandering, pointless chat on the phone. Several times I almost panic, wondering what to say next. It’s fine, of course. Eventually, he says, ‘I’d better go, we’re going out for dinner.’

‘Celebrating your arrival?’

‘Ha, yeah, I don’t think it’s that, more that Trix has been at work all day. Anyway, I’ll call you tomorrow. Are you going to stay at mine?’

‘Oh, I’m not sure,’ I say. ‘I’ll see how it is tonight.’

‘Okay. Well. Goodnight then. I might text you when I get back.’

‘I might be asleep,’ I warn him.

‘That’s okay.’

It’s very odd being alone in Edward’s bed. It’s very large without him. I mean, it’s comfortable, and I’ve put the electric radiator on a timer so it’s cosy enough for Holly Hunter to have ventured in and curled up in the far corner with her back to me. But it feels almost as though I’m here illicitly. I read my book and find my mind slipping away from the words, so several times I have to go back a page and read the same section again. It’s a long time before I feel sleepy enough to turn out the light, and then the wind and rain keep me awake for a while.

I’m not sure how long I’ve been asleep, or what wakes me, but the red numbers on the alarm clock tell me it’s half past two. Unlike my bedroom at the Lodge, it’s never properly dark here; the curtains are unlined, and there’s a streetlight near enough to push a narrow silver line across the wall. Being in town it’s noisier too; although Baldochrie is hardly a bustling metropolis, earlier I could hear music from the pub, and people talking as they walked home, the occasional car. At the Lodge all you can hear is the weather, the wind in the trees, sometimes an owl or the terrifying scream of a fox. I might need to put up a blackout blind, although I haven’t had any trouble sleeping here before, so perhaps it’s not the noise and light that bother me. I realize I’m straining to listen, although I don’t know what for. I’m definitely uncomfortable though, and the rest of the night is broken sleep and strange dreams.

Edward has remembered FaceTime exists. Luckily, I now have broadband at the Lodge.

‘Where are you?’ He frowns, peering at me.

‘Oh, I’m at home. I didn’t sleep very well last night, I thought maybe I should–’

‘Were you cold?’

‘No, no. It just felt a bit weird.’

‘Weird? Weird how?’

‘I don’t know. I think – it felt strange without you.’

‘I didn’t sleep very well either. I miss you.’

‘You’re busy though,’ I say, turning this aside, uncomfortable.

‘Yes, but I wish you were here too. You’d like Geoff. And everyone.’

‘Have you told them about me?’ The thought of this makes me oddly panicky. What’s wrong with me?

‘Well, not Geoff, I doubt he’d care. But I told Trix and Alan. They were, as you can imagine, delighted.’

‘Oh, well–’

‘Shocked and astounded also,’ he says.

I’m trying not to look at the very unflattering image of myself in the corner of the screen. Edward looks unusual too from this angle, mostly chin. ‘Shocked?’

‘Well, they’d more or less given me up to a lonely death.’

‘Oh, really, come on.’

‘What?’ He grins at me. ‘You know it’s true. I think I expounded on your virtues for an hour at least.’

‘That must have been a thrill for them.’

‘They seemed quite interested, asked a million questions.’ He yawns. ‘Oh, excuse me. God I’m knackered.’

‘Hopefully you’ll sleep better tonight. Are you going out again?’

‘No, we’re making pizza.’

I sleep better the next night but I’m still awake very early. Something’s nagging at me, and I’m not sure what it is. I feel tense, somehow, a knot of something in my belly. A vague pre-exam-like feeling. I lie in bed thinking about how, sometimes, it would be useful to be able to turn your brain off. I don’t need to think about everything that’s spinning through my head. When should I go home to collect my things? Should I even do that? Should I buy a flat down there? What should I do with my things once they’re up here, if I fetch them? Should I rent the Lodge or continue to live here, even if I decide to spend more time at Edward’s? He wants me to live there – or at least, he said he wanted me to live there, last week. He’s mentioned it several times. He might change his mind though. And I’ve grown accustomed to living by myself. I like living at the Lodge. I like the garden full of birds, the possibilities of the vegetable patch, the fruit cage.

I realize I could grow veg here even if I lived somewhere else. Or I could grow veg at Edward’s – his garden is big enough. I try to imagine my belongings at his house but can’t quite. It seems perfectly well supplied with furniture. He’s not lacking anything I could bring with me, although I suppose my pictures would fit in, and my pots and bowls and vintage odds and ends. And my books, ha ha, there might be room for them somewhere. My kitchen stuff could all live at the Lodge, couldn’t it? I’m not massively attached to any of it. I could have one of the spare bedrooms at the flat