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

‘Hey hey,’ he says, pushing the door open and putting his suitcase down by the counter. He turns and goes back outside, returning with two boxes and a carrier bag.

‘What did you get, then?’ I ask.

‘Got this for you–’

‘Oh, Edward, really?’

‘Yes, and isn’t it a thrill to know it won’t have to live in the safe for three months like a certain set of napkin rings?’ He hands me a slender parcel, almost as long as my forearm.

‘Is it a spoon?’

‘You’d better open it.’

I sigh and carefully unfasten the tape, before unrolling the brown paper. Inside is a ladle, rather beautiful. Initialled on the handle with a very curly E & A. ‘Oh,’ I say.

‘Yes, sorry, I know it’s a bit… soppy,’ he says. ‘But isn’t it handsome?’

‘It is, very. Is this older?’

‘Eighteenth century, 1750? Or something like that.’

‘It’s lovely.’

‘To share,’ says Edward, and my eyes fill with tears.

‘Hey, what is it? What’s wrong?’

‘Ah. Um… look…’

‘Thea?’

‘There’s some stuff in my brain,’ I say.

He looks at me, cautious. ‘Stuff?’

‘Yes, look, this is where I might say I’m fine,’ I tell him, ‘but not really fine?’

‘Please don’t say you’re fine if you’re not. What is it?’

‘It’s nearly ten,’ I say, ‘we should–’

‘We don’t need to open the shop. What’s wrong?’

‘You’re tired–’

‘Not so tired I can’t be reasonable. Please, tell me what’s wrong?’ He goes to the door and locks it. ‘Let’s go and sit down,’ he says, gently, and I follow him slowly through to Plays and Poetry, where he turns on the lamps and sits down on the smaller sofa.

I perch beside him and try to collect myself.

‘So. Tell me about the stuff in your brain.’

‘I’m not sure if it’s really there? At least… this week I’ve been… because you weren’t here,’ I say in a rush, ‘I don’t know what I’ve done; it’s like I couldn’t remember how you were. Now I see you, I see how you are. I think.’

He looks concerned. ‘Okay? And is that bad?’

I laugh. ‘No. I don’t think so. Okay, look, I’ll just say it. Are you the Susanna? In other people’s lives? Do you… I’m not sure if I can… The thing is, what happened with Chris and Susanna hurt me terribly. And I don’t think she meant it to. She didn’t think about me at all. But you meant to hurt Charles, didn’t you, when you and Carolyn… And I don’t know if–’

‘Oh,’ he says. ‘This is about what kind of arsehole I am.’

I can’t tell if he’s annoyed. ‘No, it–’

He waves a hand, dismissive. ‘Yes, it is. I don’t mind. You wonder if it’s worse, that I did what I did without caring. At least Susanna cares. She wanted your husband, and she loves him, and she might not have cared about you, but she does care about him, or so we assume. But I hurt two people and broke up their marriage and I didn’t even like Carolyn. That’s what you mean, isn’t it?’

I nod, quite impressed that he should sum this up so effectively without prompting. ‘Well, I know you said Lara’s husband–’

‘Oh God, no, he doesn’t give a shit. Let’s not worry about him. But you think I might feel that infidelity is… acceptable.’

‘I’m not sure if I do think that,’ I say. ‘But it has been worrying me.’

‘Yes. I don’t though.’ He clears his throat. ‘If I’d been in love with Carolyn, um, I might not have done it. Is that worse? It might be. But it wasn’t about her, it was about Charles. I’m not making excuses. You know I’ve barely had anything you could call a normal relationship. Some of those people–’

‘Charles’s exes.’

‘Charles’s exes, yes. Some of them I saw for a while. I never cheated on any of them though. I’ve never slept with someone else if anyone’s ever thought I was only sleeping with them.’ He frowns at this rather convoluted sentence.

‘Haven’t you?’

He shakes his head. ‘No.’

‘Corinne–’

‘I must take you to meet Corinne,’ he says. ‘I think you’d get on. But Lara didn’t expect me to be… She didn’t think I was hers, you know, or anything. It would have been hypocritical, after all. I mean, I’m not saying Lara is particularly thoughtful about moral equivalency or anything’ – he pulls a face – ‘but it’s not like she doesn’t have sex with her husband. If she wanted me to herself, she certainly never said so. I wouldn’t think it was acceptable, Thea, is what I’m trying to say. I would never sleep with anyone else. I would never be unfaithful.’

‘That’s what Chris said though. Saying you wouldn’t is meaningless. I mean, you might mean it this second, but–’

‘Would you cheat? Not on me, on anyone?’

‘No, I…’ I pause, trying to be honest. ‘I’d like to think I wouldn’t.’

‘But you can’t know that either, can you?’ We look at one another, solemn. ‘I can only tell you how I feel, and promise you that I’ll never let any of your friends persuade me that I ought to fuck them.’

I laugh at this. ‘I don’t think I believe in promises anymore.’

He pulls at his lower lip, thinking. ‘I don’t want to be put in a position where I can’t tell you anything – where I can’t tell you the truth about how I feel. Or make you believe me. Because I know you think I’m… Well, I don’t know exactly what you think. But you think I might do something awful because I’ve done awful things before?’

I bite my lip, hard, to stop myself crying.

He sits back. ‘I don’t think I’ve ever done anything awful except to Charles, or not really. I’ve been absent and uncommitted and lazy with women – but only because I’ve never met anyone I really wanted to be with. And you know that’s because I didn’t try to meet anyone. I know it’s pathetic, and I should probably have had loads of therapy a long time ago. But then again, if I