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

plenty of photos on the website.’

‘Yeah, I don’t know why I didn’t,’ he says, frowning. ‘And it’s your shop? I mean, you own it?’ he says to Edward.

‘Yes.’

It’s clear he can’t think of anything else to ask, and we sit for a moment in silence. I keep looking at Chris, poking at my feelings, to see how I feel about seeing him. If I’m honest, I’m slightly irritated. I think his tone when he speaks to Edward is off, and I don’t see why it should be. He should be relieved, surely, that I’ve met someone. Pleased, even. But I don’t think he is.

‘That’s not your name, though, is it? Fortescue?’

‘Oh God.’ I laugh, and look at Edward. ‘No. It’s a joke, sort of.’

I remember when he explained the shop name to me. It’s the most ridiculous in-joke that no one would ever get. His response, when I said that, was, ‘And anyone who does get it is clearly to be avoided. It’s a joke for me.’

‘A joke?’

‘It’s not important,’ I say, dismissive. Cerys is back again with her notebook, and I order coffee and cake, while Chris asks for ham, egg and chips, and Edward just has coffee.

I feel the conversation is, more or less, dependent on my thinking of things to say, which is annoying. I talk a bit about Baldochrie and Christmas and the Lodge.

‘You’re not going to sell it then?’

‘Not at the moment.’ I don’t feel it’s necessary to explain my plans. I’m reminded of something I meant to ask before. ‘Is Susanna going to sell her house?’

‘No, she’s renting it at the moment. That seemed the best idea.’

I nod. ‘In case you split up.’

‘We’re not going to split up.’

I think I’ve annoyed him. ‘Well, I know,’ I say. ‘But you might. I mean–’

Edward’s phone rings. He looks at it and mutters, ‘Bugger. I ought to take this,’ he says, looking up at me apologetically.

I wave a hand. ‘That’s fine, go on.’

He gets up and wanders away. ‘Hey, Roger, hi…’ and then I’m on my own with Chris. He watches Edward walk away, and then turns his attention to me.

‘Xanthe says his brother’s a lord,’ he says, disbelieving.

‘Yeah,’ I say, distracted. ‘He is.’

‘That’s weird. He doesn’t seem that posh.’

‘I think he made a lot of effort to be normal when he was young. That’s why he hasn’t got an accent. A Scottish accent, I mean. Because he really is posh. I think they beat it out of them at school.’

‘Where did he go to school? Eton?’ he says, derisively.

‘No, they went to Gordonstoun; it sounds terrifying. Prince Charles went there,’ I add. ‘And David Bowie’s son, but he got expelled.’

‘Huh.’

‘I know, mad, isn’t it.’

Cerys arrives with Chris’s lunch and my cake. ‘I’ll take Ed his coffee,’ she says. ‘Shout if you need anything.’

Chris thanks her and begins to eat. It’s clear the whole gentry thing bothers him, or intrigues him anyway.

‘Xanthe said she met his brother.’

I nod. ‘Charles, yes.’

‘So you’re mixing with the aristocracy. What do they call a lord’s brother?’

‘Mr Maltravers,’ I say. ‘In this case.’

‘So he’s not an Honourable or whatever?’

‘No. I mean, he was, when his dad was alive. But that’s just for the children of lords because they don’t have titles.’

‘That must be galling.’

I frown at him. ‘Why?’

‘Well, to have your brother be a lord and not be one.’

‘Oh! No – he’s the eldest. He gave it up. Did Xanthe not tell you this bit? He renounced the title.’

‘Oh. What an odd thing to do.’ I can tell from his face that he thinks this is both stupid and admirable. I shrug. ‘I suppose he wouldn’t be going out with you if he was a lord,’ he says, which I think is quite rude.

‘Probably not,’ I say, calmly. ‘Anyway, enough about that. What about your news?’

‘My news?’

I roll my eyes. ‘Do you honestly think I don’t know about it?’

‘About what?’

‘The baby.’

‘Oh.’ He looks uncomfortable. ‘Yeah.’

‘So congratulations and everything.’

‘Thanks.’

‘Are you excited about it?’

‘I… Yes, of course.’

I nod. Maybe I should just ask him, since we’re here. I clear my throat. ‘I didn’t know you wanted to have a family. You should have said.’

He looks up from his plate, where he’s dipping chips into the egg yolk in a desultory fashion. ‘It wasn’t planned,’ he says.

I’m relieved by this, even though it’s none of my business. ‘Oh. I thought perhaps–’

‘No.’

He doesn’t want to talk about it, but I’m going to make him. ‘I wondered if, you know. If that was why. Why you left me.’

‘Thea. No. Please don’t think that. It wasn’t… You know I didn’t exactly plan for any of this to happen.’

I nod. ‘I know. It’s okay. I… I didn’t like to think that perhaps I’d failed you somehow.’

‘Oh my God. Is that what you think?’ He looks appalled.

‘I didn’t know what to think. Because it’s not like we… I wondered if you’d wanted to and I hadn’t realized.’ I clear my throat. ‘I was more upset than I expected. I know it doesn’t make any difference, to me. But I was upset.’

‘Oh God. No, no. I know I should have told you myself. I’m sorry. I’m a coward. Honestly, you mustn’t…’ He looks up, behind my shoulder. ‘Look, there’s some stuff I need to talk to you about. It’s awkward with him here. Can I see you by yourself? Before I go home?’

‘I suppose so. I don’t see why not.’

‘It’s just… weird. No offence,’ he adds, as Edward sits down.

Edward’s not paying attention though. ‘That was Roger McBride,’ he says. ‘Got a house clearance he wants me to look at.’

‘Cool,’ I say. ‘Look – you don’t have to stay. If you want to go back to the shop?’

He looks from one of us to the other. ‘Sure. Leave you to it?’

I nod. ‘Won’t be long. Will I?’

Chris, who looks pained, shakes his head.

‘Okey-doke. See you later.’ He stands up again, and then leans down to kiss me. ‘I’ll cook for half six, shall I?’

I nod.

‘Let me know if you think you’ll