Chapter 4
Carrie was much more confident opening the shop the following morning. Not least because she was opening at the right time today! Seren wasn’t due in, but Carrie knew she could call her with any problem she had.
Poppy had apparently booked herself in for holiday club in the afternoon because there was going to be rock-pooling and ice cream, which made Carrie laugh when Nat called to check it was all right. Carrie guessed her daughter got her confidence from her father because it certainly wasn’t from her.
Tabitha the cat entered with the first customer again and slinked off to her favourite spot. She was swiftly joined by Poppy, who ventured to perch on the arm of the chair the cat curled up in. This seemed to be acceptable to Tabitha. Poppy began reading softly to her new friend.
Carrie took the opportunity to look through more of the notes Aunt Mary had left for her.
The general message was that Seren was awesome and could help with pretty much everything.
Unfortunately, Abigail, the teenager who used to work on Saturdays, had recently left.
She was going to spend the summer travelling before heading off to university; Aunt Mary urged Carrie to find someone else.
One of the days Seren worked was Saturday, but they could get busy and two people needed to be in the shop.
If Carrie found someone else to work, Seren would sort out the pay and contract.
And then Carrie would be able to have the weekends free.
Carrie had never hired someone before and wasn’t absolutely sure how to go about it.
Should she advertise? She’d worry about that another time.
It wasn’t the end of the world if she worked Saturdays, although it would be nice to have the two days off to spend with Poppy, especially as the holiday club didn’t run at the weekend.
The bell over the door rang and Carrie’s heart sank as the bra-stealing little dog, thankfully on a lead this time, entered . . . closely followed by the man from the beach, carrying a cardboard box. The man looked just as stressed as he had the other times she’d seen him.
He fiddled around making sure the dog’s lead didn’t get tangled in the door as he closed it and Carrie contemplated ducking behind the counter to hide from the awkwardness of talking to him. But she dithered too long and he turned to face her . . . and recognised her immediately.
“It’s you. From the beach,” he blurted out.
Carrie felt her cheeks redden. She wished the ground would open up and swallow her. She didn’t know where to look.
He didn’t wait for her to respond. “I’m so, so sorry about what happened. I’m terribly embarrassed,” he continued.
“You’re embarrassed?” Carrie laughed before holding her face in her hands. “I was mortified!”
“I’m glad I’ve found you so that I can apologise properly. I’ll buy you a new bra, of course.” His cheeks turned pink. “I mean... reimburse you for that one.”
“It’s fine, honestly. It was an old bra. I should have thrown it away years ago. I don’t know why I didn’t . . .” She was rambling.
“I swear Monty isn’t usually that badly behaved.”
Carrie took a breath. He was being nice. She needed to relax and try to get over at least a little of the embarrassment.
“Monty’s a sweet name,” she said. “I’ll make sure I tell my daughter. She thinks he’s very cute.”
“I’m afraid his name’s actually Montmorency,” the man said with a little sigh. “I call him Monty because it’s less ridiculous.”
“From Three Men in a Boat?”
The man raised an eyebrow. “You know it?” he said, sounding relieved. She wondered how many times he’d had to explain the reference.
“It’s one of my favourite books,” said Carrie with a shrug.
Realisation seemed to hit the man as he looked at her and he opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted.
“Hello, I’m Poppy!” Carrie’s daughter appeared beside her mother. “We’re looking after this shop while my Great Auntie Mary is away on a cruise. I want to learn how to use the till. I like your dog.”
There was a pause while the man evaluated the information he’d been given. “My name is Michael,” he said. “I sometimes fix books for your great aunt, and I think my dog likes you too.”
“Nice to meet you,” said Poppy, holding out her hand.
Michael shook it solemnly.
“May I stroke your dog?” Poppy asked.
“I’m sure he’d like that.”
Poppy rounded the counter and began making a fuss of Monty who rolled over on his back and put his little legs in the air.
“Can I show him around the shop?” the little girl asked.
“Of course.” Michael handed Poppy the end of the dog’s lead.
“I’m Carrie,” said Carrie, realising that she and Michael hadn’t actually introduced themselves to each other.
“I’m Michael,” said Michael, then rolled his eyes realising she knew this already. Carrie smiled. “You don’t remember me, do you?” he added.
“Have we met before?”
“We have. It must be twenty years since I last saw you. You used to come to spend the summer here with your aunt and uncle. I’m very sorry about his passing.”
“Thank you. I think I do remember you. You used to read in the corner. Your hair was much longer.”
“Yeah, it was a look. And I was skinny as a pole. Your aunt and uncle were very good to me.”
“I remember them saying you’d gone off to university and then I didn’t see you again.”
“I went up to York for uni and then worked in Plymouth before I moved back here.”
“Well, it’s really good to see you again.”
“You too.” Michael held her gaze. “I’ve actually got some books to drop off,” he said, breaking the spell and indicating the box he carried.
“Oh, you’re Michael Thomas? My aunt mentioned you’d be coming,” Carrie said, holding up her sheets of notes.
“Yes, I’m a bookbinder. I’ve been putting new covers on some vintage books for your aunt. My shop’s next door.”
“Peter’s shop?” Carrie asked. “I remember him from when I used to visit.”
“Yes, I became his apprentice. I took over when he retired a few years ago. I still think it’ll be another thirty years or so until the locals completely accept me in his place.”
“I’m sure they’ll come around eventually,” said Carrie with a laugh. “According to my notes, I’m supposed to get your invoice and put the books in the office for Seren to sort out.”
“The invoice is in with the books,” Michael said. “I’ll take them through for you.”
Carrie moved to the side so he could get past. He smelled of leather and soap, a combination Carrie’s senses appreciated judging by the fluttering in her stomach.
He placed the box of books on the floor of the office. “Seren will know what to do with them,” he said as he came back out again.
He gave two sneezes in a row. “Sorry,” he said. “Allergies.”
“Hay fever?”
“Pet hair,” said Michael, taking out a handkerchief.
“You’re allergic to your dog?”
“He’s not really my dog . . . well, he is . . . he was Peter’s. He moved to the Isle of Wight to live with his son when he retired but couldn’t take this little fella or his cat with him so they kind of came with the business.”
“The tortoiseshell is yours?”
“Tabitha Twitchit? Yes, she’s mine. She hasn’t been making a nuisance of herself, has she? Your aunt’s always been happy to let her come and go, but if you’d rather she didn’t, I can try to keep her in my shop.”
“No, no. My daughter loves her and so do the customers. She’s no trouble. Twitchit? From Beatrix Potter?”
“Again, named by Peter. With your aunt’s influence, I suspect. You really know your books.”
“Not like my aunt does.”
“So, Tabby’s been hanging around here?” Michael asked.
Carrie indicated to the chair in the corner of the shop where Monty now lay curled up next to Tabitha, much to Poppy’s delight.
The little girl caught her mother’s eye. “Look! They’re friends!” she whispered urgently, making the adults smile.
“Are you allergic to Tabitha as well?” Carrie asked Michael.
“Yep. Usually an antihistamine keeps it under control. I forgot to take it this morning.”
“Not the best little extras to come with the business then.”
“No,” said Michael with a little sniff. “Would you like me to take Tabitha away with me?”
“No, no. Honestly, she’s not causing any trouble. And I promise I’m not feeding her.”
“Thanks. I think someone must be because she couldn’t get much rounder. Anyway, I really must go. I’ve got a customer due in a few minutes, but it’s good to properly meet you and I’m sorry again about your, um . . . you know.”
“Really. Don’t worry about it,” said Carrie, feeling her cheeks begin to flush again. “I’m sure we’ll see each other around.”
It was only when Michael and his dog had left that Carrie noticed how fast her heart was beating.
“Why are you all smiley, Mummy?” asked Poppy.
“I’m always smiley!” said Carrie, giving her daughter a hug.
“You’re extra smiley,” said Poppy. “Did you see how cute Monty and Tabitha were together? They’re best friends.”
“They were very sweet. Tabitha’s twice Monty’s size!”
“I hope I can see Monty soon.”
“I’m sure you will,” said Carrie. She realised she very much hoped she got to see more of Michael, too.