Chapter 11
Carrie went in the shop’s back entrance and gave the shop floor a quick once-over, checking it was all ready to open up the next morning.
She felt she kind of knew what she was doing running it now, which she liked.
She was very grateful for Seren and sure she would have sunk long ago if it hadn’t been for her, but she’d found her feet, and she could definitely understand what her aunt loved about having a bookshop.
The customers were generally lovely and so happy to be there and it was really fun hunting down more obscure books for them.
Of course, it helped that she loved reading and books herself, but a lot of that came from spending time with her aunt and uncle in the bookshop when she was little.
She’d known that if there was ever a book she fancied reading, she just had to mention it to her aunt or uncle and it would arrive in the post within a week.
It used to worry her mum how much money they spent on their adored only niece, but they always told her not to be so silly.
They loved treating Carrie. Had she truly appreciated them when she was little? She hoped she had.
Her phone dinged in the pocket of her rucksack. She took it out and smiled as she read the message from Michael: Don’t worry about cooking. We’re bringing something!
Goodness only knows what Poppy had convinced him to do. She had him wrapped around her little finger, but not in a ‘spoiling her’ way. He genuinely seemed to like her daughter and enjoy spending time with her.
Carrie straightened up a slightly wonky book on one of the table displays.
That was the other thing she loved about the bookshop — it was calm.
Working there never felt hectic or stressful.
There was time to speak with and help customers.
To sip on a cup of tea, to create a lovely new display.
And it felt like she was helping people and bringing them a little bit of joy in their day.
She’d never really had a job she’d enjoyed this much before.
She’d worked an office job when she’d left university which was frankly uninspiring and involved long hours.
When she had Poppy and it was clear Tony wasn’t going to be around as much as she’d hoped, she’d known she needed a job that would fit around her daughter as much as possible, and so working in a school had seemed perfect.
She’d even considered training to be a teacher when Poppy was a bit older.
She liked working as a teaching assistant, but it could definitely be fraught and budget constraints and understaffing meant it was often quite frustrating, although the children were lovely of course.
She couldn’t honestly say she was looking forward to going back, though.
She went upstairs to the flat and had a shower to freshen up before changing into jeans and a pretty blue floaty top.
She added some hoop earrings because hoop earrings make everything better, then debated whether it looked like she’d made too much effort.
She decided to leave them in. She liked them.
Next, Carrie hurried around tidying up the flat, which was silly really because she’d seen inside Michael’s place and it wasn’t exactly pristine.
She heard the doorbell go and her stomach flipped. She took a deep breath. What was going on here?
She went downstairs into the shop to let Michael, Poppy and Monty in. Michael was carrying a bulging carrier bag and a pack of four bottles of beer.
“Poppy said she thought Monty should come as well. Is that OK?”
“He’s been by himself for hours,” Poppy said firmly. “He can’t possibly be left for longer.”
“Of course he’s very welcome to join us,” said Carrie. “I agree, he must have been lonely today.”
“I think he should be carried up the stairs. He only has very little legs,” Poppy declared.
Carrie gave a roll of her eyes at Michael which made him smile.
“I’ll do it,” Carrie said. “You appear to be rather burdened.” She indicated the bag he carried.
“Yes,” he said, looking sheepish. “Not that your daughter is the boss of me, but we were walking past the Chinese takeaway and it smelled delicious . . .”
Seeing the look on Carrie’s face, he quickly added, “We both thought it smelled amazing and it was my idea to get it and save you cooking.”
“That was completely unnecessary but very kind of you.”
“Poppy said you love Chinese food.”
“I do.” Carrie gave her daughter’s head an affectionate rub. “Come on, let’s get upstairs. Please say you got prawn crackers.”
“Two packs because I told Michael how much you like them and he was worried you’d eat them all,” explained Poppy, leading the way up the stairs.
Carrie’s mouth fell open and Michael gave a little ‘what’s a man to do’ shrug before he followed the little girl.
Carrie picked up Monty, who didn’t seem at all surprised, and took advantage of being at the back of the group to try to work out what exactly it was about Michael in his grey sweatpants that was so distracting.
* * *
Dinner was delicious and plentiful and washed down with a beer for each of the adults.
Michael had made the right choice when he’d brought two packets of prawn crackers.
Sesame prawn toasts, spring rolls, crispy seaweed, and dumplings might have been overdoing things for starters when followed by Peking duck and pancakes and then egg fried rice, prawn chow mein and crispy beef, but they made a valiant effort and there was surprisingly little left when they all heaved themselves off the stools at the island where they’d been eating.
“That was so good. Thank you.” Carrie rubbed her stomach. “I don’t think I’m ever going to need to eat again.”
“Agreed.” Michael collapsed into the corner of the sofa. Monty made himself comfortable at the other end.
“Monty, off!” he said in a firm voice. Monty kept his eyes firmly closed. Presumably if he couldn’t see his master, he needn’t listen to him.
“Don’t worry,” Carrie said as Michael went to stand. “He’s fine there. Are you OK here while I give Poppy a bath?” Turning to Poppy she said, “You’re still a little bit chalk-covered from climbing, Pumpkin.”
“Absolutely,” said Michael. “I shall be busy digesting.”
Poppy decided she needed to be super quick so asked if she could have a shower instead of a bath.
Carrie wasn’t completely convinced of how much washing got done, but decided it would do.
Poppy went into her bedroom wrapped in a towel to get into her pyjamas while Carrie set the bathroom straight and, honestly, took a moment for herself before going back downstairs to Michael.
Her attraction to him seemed to be increasing by the moment, possibly encouraged by him buying her prawn crackers.
By the time she returned to the sitting room, Poppy was in between Michael and Monty on the sofa being read to.
They all looked up as she came in. “I found a book on my shelves with a guinea pig on the cover and Michael said it used to be Layla’s favourite.” Poppy held up a paperback copy of Olga da Polga. “It’s really funny.”
Carrie cleaned up the kitchen while listening to Michael reading to her daughter in his deep, gentle voice.
Was he an expert in seduction techniques to snare single mothers, or something?
What was she doing having all these crazy feelings for this man?
She hardly knew him, and she was only going to be in Castle Cove for a few weeks before she returned to London. She needed to get a grip.
She walked over to the sofa and tucked herself up in the corner next to Monty, pulling a blanket over herself. Michael looked over and smiled before returning to the story of the ballet-loving guinea pig. He finished the chapter and gestured at Poppy, now leaning against him with her eyes closed.
“Shall I carry her up to her bed?” he asked in hushed tones, but before Carrie could answer, Poppy’s eyes shot open and she said, “Why have you stopped?”
“Because you fell asleep, young lady,” said Michael, kindly.
“I didn’t,” protested Poppy.
“I’m afraid you did, Pumpkin,” said Carrie. “Let’s get you to bed.”
“Will you read more of it to me soon?” Poppy asked, fighting a yawn.
“Of course I will,” said Michael, making Carrie’s heart melt.
“Come on, then,” said Carrie, and Poppy reluctantly climbed off the sofa and took her mother’s hand.
“Thank you, Michael,” said Poppy. She let go of Carrie’s hand and gave Michael a hug and Monty a kiss.
“Goodnight, Poppy,” said Michael.
Poppy took her mother’s hand again and Carrie took her up to bed.
* * *
When Carrie came back downstairs to the sitting room, Michael was still on the sofa, checking his mobile.
“Layla seems to be having a great time,” he said, putting his phone back in his pocket.
“Brilliant,” said Carrie. She sat down, leaving as much space between herself and Michael as possible, with Monty stretching out more than she would have thought he was physically capable of.
“I remember how exciting it was to stay over at a mate’s house at her age.
I don’t think my friends and I got a lot of sleep. ”
“Yeah, I’m expecting her to be good for nothing tomorrow. She usually ends up passing out in front of the television by lunchtime after a sleepover.”
“That sounds about right.”
“Your aunt certainly provided you with enough reading material for your stay,” Michael commented.
“She did. I’ve been working my way through some of my old favourites, which were probably all recommended to me by her at some point.”
“What’s your absolute favourite book of all time?” Michael asked, his focus completely on her.
“Of all time . . . that’s a tricky one! Probably Little Women.
My aunt and uncle got me the most beautiful copy for my birthday one year.
It’s the ultimate girly comfort read. My aunt read it to me when I was staying with them, and we wept over poor Beth and both agreed that Jo was an idiot to turn down Laurie. ”