Book People

Chapter Twenty-three

Don’t do anything rash, darling H. If you do something to him, he’ll hurt you back and I couldn’t stand that. I’d also probably lose the teashop and I can’t bear that thought.

C

KATE

I’m on the door at the village hall, taking people’s tickets as they come in for Lisa’s talk, and the queue is huge. Almost as big as it was at Portable Magic earlier today when she had her signing. We sold out of books completely and had to turn people away, and, honestly, it was the most thrilling experience of my life.

After the drama of the books was sorted out, of course.

Thank God for Sebastian.

The books were supposed to arrive in plenty of time, but there were delays and the supply company promised me faithfully that they would get them to me today. So when they didn’t turn up, I almost had a panic attack.

I couldn’t think of who to go to for help except Sebastian. Things have been awkward between us since that dinner with Lisa and me not coming to him that night – we didn’t talk about it afterwards and I was glad, because I didn’t want to, and then things got too busy with the festival – but . . . There’s a strange distance between us now, and an awkwardness that wasn’t there before.

Even so, I didn’t think twice about going to him. He’s more experienced in the bookselling trade than I am, and he has contacts, and he dealt with everything with calmness and authority.

He literally saved the day, and if I hadn’t already fallen for him before, I would have done so the moment he took my hand in his big, warm one, looking at me steadily with those incredible blue eyes of his. Telling me everything would be okay, that he’d handle it.

It sounds pathetic to be so relieved by those words, because I really don’t need a man to save me. But sometimes it’s nice when one steps in and says, ‘Hey, don’t worry about it. I’ll deal with it’, and you know that he will. You know absolutely that everything will be fine.

That’s what Sebastian did and, the moment he held my hand, I knew everything would be fine. That I could stop panicking and relax. And I did.

Except the problem is that now I know how reassuring he can be, I’m not sure I can do without that.

I’m not sure I can do without him.

I shove those thoughts away hard, though, as I take people’s tickets, because I can’t think about it now. After the festival is over we’ll have to have that conversation, but I’m happy not to now. I don’t like making emotional demands. Jasper told me I was selfish when I asked for his support while Mum was dying and again, afterwards, when I was grieving. He wanted me to pay more attention to him and, when I didn’t, he’d punish me by ignoring me for days on end.

I know the problem was him, not me, but still, sometimes it’s better not to push.

Anyway, at least the festival is doing well. Ticket sales are great. So many people are coming, in fact, that we’ve had to move Lisa’s talk to the village hall, and it’s filling up nicely.

I should be thrilled. We’ve got more people attending than Sebastian and I ever dreamed of and most of the panels and events are sold out. Yet I feel uncertain and on edge, as if the ground beneath my feet isn’t rock, but swamp, and it keeps shifting with every step. It’s a little too much like London and Jasper, when he used to act as if our relationship was always in some kind of jeopardy and expected me to fix it.

I hate that feeling.

I should be settled and happy in my new life here, but I’m not, and I have a horrible feeling it’s all his fault.

A couple approach me and I give them a big smile and a ‘Nice to see you, thanks for coming’ as I take their tickets and usher them inside. Then I check the time. It’ll be starting in a couple of minutes.

I take more tickets and the queue disappears, then I quickly put my head into the hall to see how things are going.

It echoes with the buzz of conversation and laughing, and the whole place is packed. Standing room only. The small stage down one end has a rug, a couch and an armchair on it, and Lisa’s already sitting on the couch. Sebastian is sitting in the armchair and chatting to her. He’s the MC for the evening.

I lean against the doorframe, staring at him, because I can’t help myself.

He’s wearing all black tonight and it suits him, the lights reflecting off his glossy black hair and throwing his perfect bone structure into relief. I was the one who suggested he be the MC , because I want the whole village to see how personable he can be when he chooses, though he took some convincing. He doesn’t like being the centre of attention and thought I’d be a better bet, but I told him that he’s far more calm under pressure than I am, and he is.

He’s great eye candy too.

I let out a slow, silent breath, unable to take my eyes off him.

He’s the reason I’ve been feeling unsettled and weird. Why there’s been an ache in my chest and a longing in my heart for something I can’t name.

No, that’s wrong, I can name it. I just don’t want to. And I don’t want to because, the moment I do, things will change, and change irrevocably.

Once I’ve acknowledged it, said the thing out loud, there’ll be no going back.

I want to keep pretending for a little while longer.

My time for that, though, is rapidly coming to an end, because I know he’s already sensed something’s up. He keeps casting glances at me and frowning, and sometimes he’ll say, ‘Are you sure you’re all right?’ He knows something’s wrong, but he hasn’t asked me straight out, which means he doesn’t really want to know. He wants to keep pretending, like I am.

‘Kate?’ a familiar, masculine voice asks.

I turn around.

A man has stepped through the hall doors and into the foyer. He’s wearing an expensive dark suit with a red tie, and his brown hair is brushed back from his forehead. He’s handsome and slick and he’s smiling.

He’s also a ghost from my past and I blink. ‘Jasper?’

His smile turns self-deprecating. ‘Yeah.’

I go cold, struggling to process what he’s doing here. Struggling to process his presence at all, because I was pretty sure I’d seen the last of him when I silently crept out of our flat with a suitcase, leaving him lying in bed, still asleep.

How did he find me? I didn’t call him. I didn’t text him. I didn’t respond to any of his texts or emails or voicemails. I got myself a new phone and pretended he didn’t exist, because I was afraid. Not that he’d physically hurt me – violence was never Jasper’s way – but that he’d somehow get under my guard again, manipulate me, make it impossible for me to do anything but go back to him.

‘What . . .?’ I swallow then start again. ‘What are you doing here?’

‘Good question.’ There’s a touch of nervousness to him that I’ve never seen before. ‘I saw an ad for the festival and that it was at your bookshop and so I . . . Well, I thought I’d come and say hello.’

The shock of seeing him here is still echoing through me. This man was emotionally manipulative and subtly controlling, and now he’s standing in front of me with an intent look on his face and I have a horrible feeling I know exactly what he’s going to say.

Indeed, the next words out of his mouth are, ‘Look, Kate. I’m not going to get angry about you walking out. I know why you did it and I guess you had reason. But . . . I’ve been thinking a lot these past couple of months. I’ve been doing some work on myself, and I know I acted appallingly about your mum’s anniversary. So I’m here to apologise and to say . . .’ His familiar hazel eyes are full of hope – or at least what looks like hope. ‘Well. I made a mistake. I shouldn’t have said those things to you that night and I’m sorry. I want to know if we can . . . repair things.’

Repair things. Repair what things? He’s talking now as if what he said was the only terrible thing he did, and that our relationship was only a little broken and could be fixed.

When he first came into my life, I thought he was everything I’d ever wanted. He was handsome, had a well-paid job in finance, and was charming. He seemed like a stable, secure choice of partner, and that’s not to mention the way he initially treated me like a queen on every date. But then his true colours were revealed and now all I can think of is how he never called me beautiful the way Sebastian did when he first saw me naked. He never did anything to help me when I had a problem, the way Sebastian did when those books didn’t turn up. Not that I would have gone to him if I’d had a problem anyway, because I already knew he wouldn’t help me.

I didn’t trust him then, and I don’t trust him now.

Not the way I trust Sebastian.

There’s something clarifying in that thought and it makes me lift my chin. ‘What about all my friends you deleted from my contacts?’ I ask.

He waves a hand in dismissal. ‘I was helping you clear your contact list. But I acknowledge that I should have asked your permission first.’

My mouth is dry and my fingertips feel numb. ‘So you came all this way just to fix things? How did you find me anyway?’

He nods. ‘You always talked about how you wanted to own a bookshop and I . . . well, I confess I did a little digging and—’

‘You always said I should aim higher.’

His mouth flattens. ‘Again, I’m sorry. I know I shouldn’t have said that. I was insecure. You had a dream and I didn’t, and I didn’t know how to cope with that.’

I think he means it. Then again, I could never trust anything he said and I can feel again the familiar state of uncertainty he kept me in beginning to rise. The acid in my gut beginning to bite.

‘Jasper . . .’ I begin.

‘Please, Kate.’ He takes a step forward, getting closer to me, his expression open and earnest. ‘I made a terrible mistake and I want to fix it. I want to do better.’ His hand comes out and before I know what’s happening, he’s taken mine in his. ‘I miss you.’

My throat is tight. There were times when all I wanted was to hear those words and believe them, to be able to trust even one thing that he told me. But I couldn’t then and I know I can’t now, because now I know what the truth looks like. I see it every day in Sebastian’s eyes.

‘If he comes near you again, let me know and I will kick him all the way back to London.’

I swallow. I want to shout at him, scream at him in rage about all the things he did to me, but we’re in public and I don’t want to cause a scene.

‘I left you, Jasper,’ I say. ‘I left you for a reason.’

‘For the third time, I’m so sorry about what happened that night—’

‘It wasn’t just that night. It was the whole four years we were together.’

He gives a tight smile. ‘Not the whole four years, surely?’

He’s doing it again, minimising his behaviour. ‘Yes,’ I say. ‘Apart from the first six months when you lulled me into believing you were a normal person and not a raging narcissist.’

‘Kate,’ he says gently, as if I’ve said something incredibly unreasonable. ‘Come on. Don’t be like that. Like I said, I’ve been seeing a therapist and I can see how awful I was to you. I just . . . want to make it up to you somehow.’

‘It’s too late for that,’ I say, which is no less than the truth.

He sighs, runs a hand through his hair in a way that reminds me of Sebastian when he’s agitated. With Sebastian the movement is sexy and I know what I can do to ease his agitation, but with Jasper?

I don’t want to ease his agitation. I don’t want to smooth his hair. I don’t want to take his hand and plant a kiss on his palm, or wrap my arms around him and put my head on his chest. I don’t want to pour oil on his troubled waters and keep our boat steady and level, anything to make sure he’s happy.

I don’t want to do anything with him at all.

‘Please,’ he says. ‘Please, Kate. I . . . I love you and I always have and I just made the worst mistake.’

Does he mean it now? Again, I can’t tell. I never could with him. But then it’s not him I want and abruptly that becomes clear. Not that it wasn’t clear already, I was just lying to myself. I was happy pretending.

I’m not happy pretending any more.

‘Jasper . . .’ I begin haltingly. ‘I’m sorry, but—’

‘Kate, you left me. You didn’t even say goodbye. One moment you were there, the next you were gone.’

Reflexive guilt twists inside me, even though I know I shouldn’t feel it. Even though I didn’t do anything wrong. Making me doubt myself. ‘I’m sorry,’ I say automatically, even though I have nothing to apologise for. ‘I didn’t mean—’

‘It’s okay,’ he interrupts again. ‘I forgive you for that. But maybe I needed you to leave so I could realise what I’d lost.’ His eyes shine again with hope. ‘Come back to me, Kate. Please.’

He can’t possibly think that forgiving me for something I didn’t need to apologise for in the first place will make me come back to him. He can’t, right? But it’s clear that’s exactly what he thinks. He expected to come here, tell me these things, and that then I’d fall into his arms.

I was always so insecure with him and he took advantage of that.

‘I’m sorry, Jasper.’ I say the words clearly, politely. ‘It’s still over.’

He doesn’t move and he doesn’t take his eyes from mine. ‘For God’s sake, I’m trying to be better. And I—’

‘Kate?’ Sebastian’s voice cuts through Jasper’s like a hot knife through cold butter.

It’s a shock hearing him, because the last I saw him, he was on stage talking to Lisa. Yet when I turn around he’s standing behind me, radiating hostility, his blue eyes cold. But he’s not looking at me; he’s looking at Jasper.

His manner is oddly familiar and I can’t quite put my finger on why . . . and then all of a sudden it comes to me: he looks like Clive standing protectively behind Lisa, on the lookout for threats.

My heart beats faster. We’re ‘casual’, aren’t we? I know I told him what Jasper was like, and, yes, he was angry on my behalf, but now he’s . . . looking at Jasper like he wants to skin him alive. He must have caught the tail end of our conversation, which means he’d deduced who Jasper is. Great.

‘S–Sebastian,’ I stutter. ‘What are you doing? Isn’t the Q&A starting in a couple of minutes?’

‘Yes.’ He stares fixedly at Jasper. ‘I wanted to ask if you’d like to share the MC duties. Since this is our festival.’ He says the word ‘our’ with a certain emphasis, as if he’s hurling it like a stone at my ex.

Well. This is fun. The foyer is now practically drenched in testosterone, and I’m caught like a sock between two growling terriers. No, on second thoughts, Jasper’s the terrier. It’s Sebastian I have to watch out for, because Sebastian’s a wolf, and even though he has no reason to be jealous or possessive, he’s now both. With fury tossed in there for kicks.

He looks like he wants to tear Jasper’s throat out with his teeth, and part of me wants to see him do it. Maybe I could even get in a few rips of my own, but with Lisa’s Q&A starting any moment, a fight is the last thing this festival needs.

‘Sebastian,’ I say firmly, deciding that a polite introduction should set the tone. ‘This is Jasper Price, an . . . old friend of mine. Jasper, this is Sebastian Blackwood. He owns Blackwood Books.’

‘Pleased to meet you,’ Sebastian says, with a smile that broadcasts ‘I’m going to kill you the first opportunity I get’.

‘Likewise,’ Jasper says, his own smile implying ‘Bring it on’.

Mine says ‘Behave or I’ll kill you both’, and deep down I can feel anger gathering inside me, a rage that comes from the shock at Jasper’s presence, and the horrible sense of invasion. That he should come here , to my village, the place where I was safe, and tell me he loves me and that he wants to fix things.

How dare he? How dare he?

I swallow my rage, though, and give them both a barbed smile. ‘Jasper, find a seat. I’ll speak to you after the event.’ Then I turn to Sebastian. ‘Yes, I’d love to help out with the MC duties.’

His hostile blue gaze flicks to Jasper and then back to me, and I meet it head-on. ‘Excellent,’ he says, through gritted teeth. ‘After you.’