Book People

Chapter Twenty-one

Please, don’t let’s argue. He’s going down to London tomorrow. I can come to you then.

C

KATE

We’ve finished dinner and are sitting in the Wychtree Arms dining room: me, Lisa and Sebastian, the notes between the first Sebastian and the first Kathryn stacked neatly on the table.

Lisa’s husband, Clive – a darts fan, apparently – has gone to try his luck against Mrs Bennet, while Lisa discusses the love letters with us, jotting down notes in a pretty notebook she bought from Portable Magic.

I’d been looking forward to her arriving and to our dinner, so I’m not sure why I feel so . . . restless. Why all my attention feels consumed by the man sitting opposite me.

‘Casually’, he said when Lisa asked us if we were together, and casual was what we agreed on. It was what we both wanted. Sure, I had a little moment when he first said it to Lisa and felt stupidly hurt. And that argument in his shop about Lisa’s signing . . . Sebastian was right. It was a silly thing to argue about, especially when that wasn’t the problem.

Except I don’t know what the problem was. The word ‘casually’ hit me wrong, and maybe that’s because the intensity of our connection doesn’t feel casual to me. But . . . I don’t want it to be more, so I don’t know why I got so wound up. It’s not as if I’m ready to hurl myself into a passionate relationship again, not after Jasper. Or indeed any kind of relationship.

Still, despite all of that, I’m not as okay as I thought I’d be with this middle ground Sebastian and I have been occupying the past week. I find it strange that he’s willing to have this in-between thing with me, especially when he’s such an all-or-nothing guy, and it makes me wonder why.

The sex is fantastic, so maybe that’s the reason – he’s a man, after all. Yet if sex was the only reason, then we wouldn’t sit around talking and sometimes arguing about everything under the sun the way we have been.

It’s so good between us that dangerous thoughts have started to slip in, such as what would it be like if we weren’t casual, if our relationship actually matched our feelings . . . not that I know what his feelings are, yet . . .

But no. I can’t think about me or my feelings. I can only think that trying for anything more with him would be a mistake. He’d throw himself into a relationship body and soul, and he’d take everything, and I don’t have it in me to give him that. I don’t want to give myself away again, not after Jasper. Maybe in a few years I might have the emotional bandwidth for it, but not now.

Sebastian is leaning back in the wooden chair at the table now, arms folded, his blue gaze on mine, his expression impossible to read. He’s gorgeous again today, as he is every day, in a dark-blue shirt that emphasises the colour of his eyes.

‘So, tell me more about the teashop,’ Lisa says to me.

Over the past week I’ve been making visits to the local public library and looking at the historic village records, researching my great-grandmother’s history. There’s not a lot, but I did manage to find a few photos of the teashop in the archives.

‘I’ve got these for you,’ I say, reaching into my bag and getting out copies of the photos. I put them on the table and Lisa looks at them excitedly. ‘It was called the Wychtree Tea Rooms,’ I continue. ‘Mrs Bennet in the craft shop said her husband made her give it up.’

Sebastian is looking at the photos too, a slight frown on his face. They’re not new to him. I’ve shown them to him before.

‘Ah,’ Lisa says. ‘That must have been awful for her. But these are great. May I keep them for reference?’

‘Go ahead.’ I pick up my glass of wine and sip it.

‘Fantastic. And what do you know about your great-grandfather?’ She peers over the top of her glasses at me.

‘Nothing,’ I say. ‘Quite frankly, I don’t care about him. He died in a car accident twenty years after the war ended, and I’m sure no one was unhappy about that.’

Lisa nods. ‘And then . . . Kathryn disappeared, you said?’

I’ve done a bit of research into that too, looking at old newspaper articles about the search for her. ‘She did. Around 1966, just after Rose turned twenty-one. She did leave Rose that note before she left.’

Lisa shuffles through the pile to find it. ‘Oh, yes, so she did.’ She frowns down at it and reads it again. ‘Hmm. It’s definitely a goodbye. Did the authorities ever come to a conclusion about what happened to her?’

‘There was a coronial inquiry when she was declared legally dead,’ I say. ‘But, no, there were no real conclusions. Suicide was suspected.’

Lisa’s frown deepens. ‘If so, it’s an awfully strange suicide note.’

Sebastian leans forward and studies it. ‘“Know that I will be loved . . . that I will be happy”,’ he reads out. ‘Perhaps she was talking about seeing her family on the other side. Or maybe God.’

I still find the note unbearably painful – I find all the notes my great-grandmother wrote unbearably painful – and I have to swallow the lump that’s risen in my throat. ‘Whatever happened to her,’ I say. ‘She thought she was going to a better place.’

Lisa nods solemnly and gives my great-grandmother a moment of silence. Then she glances at Sebastian. ‘And your great-grandfather, Sebastian. His body was never found?’

Sebastian has told her about his great-grandfather’s death.

‘Never,’ he says. ‘There was an inquest, though. And the coroner’s verdict was likely drowning, possibly suicide. He left no note, unfortunately.’

‘What about your grandfather? What was his name? Charles? Did he have anything to say about it?’

‘Other than being furious, no,’ Sebastian says. ‘He never talked about it, not to Dad and not to me.’

‘Furious?’ Lisa queries.

‘Oh, yes. He was livid. Whenever the subject came up, he’d get tight-lipped and tense. The bookshop was in a bit of financial trouble and there were a few debts that my great-grandfather left behind. I’m assuming Charles thought his father took the easy way out.’

‘How difficult,’ Lisa murmurs in sympathy. Then she glances at me. ‘What about Rose? Was she angry about her mother’s disappearance, do you know?’

I shake my head. ‘No. I never met her and Mum never talked about her. People in the village here have said she was a difficult woman. Then again, it can’t have been easy for her being orphaned at twenty-one.’

‘It must have been awful,’ Lisa agrees. ‘A troubled history on both sides, hmm? But now here you both are, descendants of the original Sebastian and Kathryn, and you’re together. It’s definitely fate.’

There are more similarities between me and my great-grandmother than I’d like – especially being with awful men – and talk of fate makes me uncomfortable.

‘We didn’t know our great-grandparents were having an affair,’ Sebastian points out coolly, as uncomfortable with that idea as I am. ‘We only found that out comparatively recently.’

‘If you’re trying to tell me that fate didn’t have anything to do with it,’ Lisa says, ‘you’re not making a convincing argument. You two not knowing a thing about each other and yet still finding love together.’

Love.

The word falls into the middle of the table like a rock dumped from a very great height, smashing through the easy atmosphere.

Sebastian’s expression shuts down.

My discomfort intensifies.

Lisa notices the tension in the air and says hurriedly, ‘Well, that’s been so helpful, Kate. You don’t mind if I do a bit of digging myself in the public library? I do love a library.’

‘No, of course not.’ I force a smile. ‘We’ll give you a tour of the village tomorrow so you know where everything is.’

‘Good.’ She gives me a smile back. ‘Oh, it’s so lovely seeing you. In fact, I’ve been wondering if I couldn’t tempt you back to editing.’

A little electric shock goes down my spine. ‘What?’

‘I know you’ve moved here and opened your bookshop, but . . . You were such a fantastic editor, and this is partly your family’s story. I’d love your input on it as I’m writing.’

This was not what I was expecting and for a minute I have no idea what to say. ‘Um . . . Don’t you have an editor already?’

Lisa waves a hand. ‘Oh, yes. But I have a bit of clout these days. If I want a different editor and present the publisher with one, I’m sure they won’t be able to say no.’

I’m struggling to process this. I loved editing. I loved being in publishing and helping writers make their stories come to life. But after Jasper and Mum, I had to leave, and my escape to Wychtree had felt irreversible. I swore to myself that I wouldn’t be back, that I was going to make a new life for myself, a better life. I hadn’t ever thought that door would open again, and now . . .

Abruptly, Sebastian shoves back his chair and stands. Lisa and I look at him in surprise, but his expression remains impassive. ‘If you’ll excuse me,’ he says, in the most insufferably formal tones. ‘I’ll leave you two to your discussion. I have a few things to do. Let me know if you need any more help, Lisa.’ He glances at me, his blue eyes glowing, but says nothing. Then, before I can speak, he turns and departs.

‘My, my,’ Lisa murmurs. ‘He’s an intense one.’

I watch as he strides out, wondering what on earth made him leave, because something did. Was it the talk of love or was it the mention of editing? And does that mean he doesn’t want me to come back to his place tonight?

Lisa glances at me. ‘I put my foot in it, didn’t I?’

I hope my feelings aren’t plastered all over my face. ‘Oh no, not at all,’ I say, unconvincingly.

‘I shouldn’t have said “love”, should I?’ Lisa is far too astute for her own good. Then again, writers are good at observing people.

I fiddle with my dessert spoon. ‘Um . . . Let’s just say we’re not quite at that stage yet.’

‘Oh, but I thought . . . When you look at each other . . .’ She stops, then mutters under her breath. ‘He did say casual.’

‘It’s fine.’ My face is getting hot. ‘Don’t worry about it.’

But there is understanding in her eyes. ‘Difficult, yes? Him, I mean. I can tell. Men like that always are.’

I bristle, defensive of him. ‘No, he’s not difficult. Not at all. He’s actually a really wonderful man.’

Lisa waves a hand. ‘I’m not being critical, that’s not what I meant. What I meant was that he’s intense. Passionate. Men like him wear their hearts on their sleeve yet think they have the world’s best poker face.’ She picks up the cappuccino she’s drinking and takes a sip. ‘Clive was like that. Still is. They take a little bit of getting to know, but once you do . . .’ She sighs and a warm, reminiscent smile turns her mouth. ‘Well, they’re loyal. Honest. Protective. And so loving. They’re totally worth all the drama, believe me.’

I look down at my empty dessert bowl, my heart tight and sore. I know that already. I know he’s worth it. But what I don’t know is whether I am. He clearly wants me physically and we have great sex, but . . . What else do I have to offer him? What else that isn’t endless sniping and argument? We both like books, it’s true, but so far it’s only been book talk and sex, and a relationship needs more than that.

Then there’s the question of whether I’m ready for a full-on relationship. I wanted a life of my own, that I’m in charge of, that wasn’t endlessly picked apart and critiqued, and where I’m not held hostage by my own emotions. Sebastian is strong, opinionated and demanding, and I’m not sure how I could cope with a man like that after Jasper. And I certainly don’t want to go tying my heart to anyone, least of all him. ‘I’m sure they are,’ I mutter meaninglessly.

‘Oh, they are. You know, I get the impression he’s very much like his great-grandfather. You can feel the passion coming from those notes he sent Kate, and Sebastian radiates that same passion.’ She pauses. ‘Especially when he looks at you.’

My cheeks are now flaming and I concentrate fiercely on my dessert bowl like a silly teenager, not wanting to meet her eyes. She seems to think she’s witnessing some grand passion.

‘He might be like him,’ I say eventually, putting my spoon into the bowl. ‘But that relationship didn’t exactly work out well.’ I push the bowl away and finally lift my gaze and give her a direct look. ‘Also, if you’re hoping to use us as some kind of inspirational couple, you can forget it. Sebastian’s right. We’re only together in a casual way.’

She doesn’t look particularly abashed. ‘Sorry, love. You know a writer, always looking for grist for the mill. I hear you, but I think you’re wrong. I think you’re both wrong.’

I decide to change the subject at this point, because the thought of Sebastian looking at me with passion makes me want things I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready for, and I don’t want to talk about it now.

We discuss other topics for a while and then, after reiterating that she’d like me to think about that editing offer, and agreeing on a time for us to do a tour of the village the next morning, she excuses herself and goes off to find Clive in the saloon bar.

I slip out of the Arms and into the warm, summer night.

My thoughts are flying everywhere and refusing to settle.

Sebastian. My bookshop. Editing . . .

I don’t know what to do. I did love editing, but Portable Magic has always been my dream, and I’ve only been here for two months. I’m not ready to leave it. I don’t have to sell, I tell myself. I could get someone to manage it for me if I returned to editing, but . . .

I don’t want to do that. I like being in the bookshop, meeting customers and managing stock. Organising events and liaising with authors and publishers. I want to do all of that myself.

Then there is Sebastian and this casual-sex situation we’ve got going on. A situation where I’m afraid that my feelings for him are not the slightest bit casual. I knew that the moment he first kissed me.

My feelings for Sebastian have never been casual, and I’m afraid.

I’m afraid of what being with a man like Sebastian could do to me.

I’m afraid that I’ll never be enough for him.

I’m afraid that, if I give him my heart, he’ll take everything, like Jasper did.

I’m also afraid that my heart might be on its way to him already.

The high street is quiet as I walk down it.

Quiet, as I pause in front of Blackwood Books.

I told him earlier I’d be at his place tonight, but then he left the pub without a word and now I don’t know what to do. Does he even want my company tonight? Will we have an awkward conversation about why he left? Will I have to pretend that Lisa talking fate and love in the context of us doesn’t mean anything to me? And will I have to say yet again that casual is fine?

I don’t know if I can do it. I don’t know if I’m a good enough actress.

Because the fact is that casual isn’t fine and it never was, and I’ve been lying to myself this past week.

I thought he’d be the one who wouldn’t be able to manage the middle ground, but, as it turns out, he’s not the problem.

The problem is me.

I turn from Blackwood Books and go home alone instead.