Moving On

Break

Break

SHE WAITED WHILE HE MADE HIS TEA. IT WAS MID-way through November, a few weeks after Claire’s visit. The staffroom window was tightly shut against a biting wind. A pathetic two pounds Ellen had lost since arriving in Galway, thanks to Frances’ dinners. Just as well she had the walk to and from work every day.

‘I’ve been thinking,’ she said when he’d settled across the table from her.

‘Thinking is good,’ Ben replied. He’d taken to joining her for her morning break, saying he hated to drink alone. He reached for the sugar bowl and she caught a whiff of his aftershave, a salty undertone to it that always put her in mind of the sea. Today he was in her favourite check shirt, olive green and maroon and chocolate brown. By now she was acquainted with all his shirts.

‘I think we should start a weekly children’s storytime,’ she said.

He scratched his chin. He always did that when he was thinking. If he was impatient, he pulled on an ear. ‘A children’s storytime. Interesting. Are you offering?’

‘Well, I’ve never done it, but I’d be happy to give it a go.’ She took a Lincoln Cream from its pack before remembering that she’d sworn off them. She dunked it in her tea. One wouldn’t kill her. ‘When I started school there was a library close by, and our teacher would bring us there for storytime every Friday. I loved it.’

‘We were never brought anywhere from school, too bold. I don’t know how our first teacher survived us. Poor Mrs Dolan.’

‘She should see you now, bookshop manager.’

‘Chancing his arm, she’d say, and she’d be right.’

When he smiled, the left side of his mouth tilted up, lending a delightful mischief to his face. Boyish mischievousness. She imagined him aged eight, shinning up neighbours’ apple trees or ringing doorbells and racing away.

‘The children’s section is pretty small,’ he said. ‘Would we have the space?’

‘Oh, I think so – little children don’t take up too much room.’

He crunched on a biscuit. ‘Age group?’

‘I’d say three to six.’

‘Duration?’

‘Not sure. Maybe half an hour? Might have to be trial and error.’

‘OK. I’ll have a think.’

They clicked. They worked well together. She was very fond of lovely Edwin – who wouldn’t be? And Jasper had his own shy charm – but with Ben, she felt perfectly in tune.

He was a year older than her. His star sign was Scorpio. He’d had curly hair as a young child. He detested the texture of tapioca. Every day she learnt a little more.

He checked his watch and got up. ‘Right, back to the lion’s den.’ He left his mug in the sink as he always did, knowing she’d wash it.

She didn’t mind. A manager had to have some perks.