Chapter 28
“See! We made it in one piece!” Harper praised as Eiley hopped out of the van, disrupting the car park’s muddy gravel.
It was a beautiful day to savour the last day of half-term – for the kids, at least. Eiley would have preferred more gloom so that she could enjoy her current read, a vampire horror, with the right atmosphere, but the sun glistened over a kaleidoscope of bright, rustling trees, painting Phoebe’s Pumpkin Patch and the surrounding sunflower fields golden.
It might have been the first time she’d smiled in the last few days, pride welling in her.
After a stay in the local garage, the book bus was up and running.
One benefit of recent turmoil was that Eiley had been in desperate need of the distraction, to the point where she’d jumped straight back into the driver’s seat.
She’d been sensible enough to ask Harper to accompany her this time, as well as Brook, who had been begging to visit the farm.
Since they’d be spending Halloween in Glasgow next weekend, she wanted to make sure they got to carve some pumpkins and cram in their usual traditions.
“I don’t know what you were so worried about.
Piece of cake,” Eiley joked, rounding the van to open up the back doors.
The small space inside was decorated with shelves of books on every wall, made cosy by a red rug that served as a path in and out.
She wasn’t expecting many customers, but it was better than stewing in her sadness at home.
“Bed-rotting” was what Harper called it.
Since her fight with Warren, she’d been stuck replaying all the things she’d said wrong.
And the things he’d said wrong. And also eating a lot of cheese and watching a lot of TV shows, but that was Harper’s influence.
“How many pumpkins are we allowed to take home, Mum?” Brook asked, shielding his eyes from the bright rays with an impatient shuffle.
“As many as we can fit in the van, surely!” Harper took his hand, twirling him under her arm.
He laughed excitedly, though of course, Eiley couldn’t afford that many pumpkins.
She certainly didn’t have the patience to carve so many, either.
Usually, the kids got bored halfway through and she ended up picking up the slack, carving until her fingers ached.
“How about five? Three for you, Saff, and Sky, and we’ll pick up two for Isla and Archie, too.”
“Six?” Brook pulled out his excellent bartering skills, displaying five fingers and a thumb with adorable puppy dog eyes. “One for you, too!”
“Fine, six. But only a mini one for me, okay?”
Eiley had been folding a lot recently. She was afraid she’d made the wrong decision in giving Finlay a chance, and was already trying to make up for the inevitable hurt by being extra generous with all the children.
She’d been surprised that Brook had agreed to the trip at all, though it had been the promise of a ghost tour through the city on the spookiest weekend of the year that had truly swayed him.
He’d asked about his dad a lot after Finlay had first left them, but the questions had faded with time, and with plenty of family to fill the void, it was the first they’d spoken about it in months.
Still, there weren’t many children who could say no to their parent.
Eiley thought that, given the chance to see her dad again, she’d always say yes, even if it was just to tell him what a terrible waste of space he’d been.
That hope when Brook had asked, “Will I have a daddy again?” had cracked her resolve, and she’d texted Finlay last night to tell him yes, she would give him a chance to fix things with them.
At least Saff couldn’t remember the hurt.
Sky was often so lost in his own world that she couldn’t be sure how he felt.
He’d nodded when Eiley had asked if he wanted to go, but she’d still have to be careful.
Travelling and sensory overwhelm weren’t often an easy combination to manage.
“Yay! Come on, Auntie Harp!” Brook dragged Harper away, her plaid scarf, which was worn for fashion purposes rather than necessity, trailing behind her.
Eiley smiled and began to set up her card reader and cash box, mouth soon falling when her cheery family disappeared into the lively fields.
There was a pressed bruise in her that felt different, more tender, than usual.
Not just the familiar veil of depression, something she could lift and manage most days, but a creature that moved inside her with restless claws, scraping her raw.
She hated how things had ended with Warren.
How he’d thrown their intimacy in her face like it was some sort of proof that she was wrong for trying to fix her family.
Worse, she feared his barbed words would prove to be true. Could she trust Finlay?
A few customers descended on to the book bus, distracting her for long enough that she could just about breathe again.
She regarded the romance books one woman purchased with sadness.
They’d been her happy place, but now the thought of kisses and flirting and passionate S-E-X only made the claws shred harder, so she was currently avoiding anything with even a hint of those things.
Those novels had let her imagine that safe, uncomplicated, exhilarating love could exist. In real life, it only led to heartbreak and arguments.
She should have known that getting closer to Warren would prove that, leave her longing for a bond that was always destined to be broken. A future that would never be hers.
With the house. His house. She hadn’t even considered that he might want to settle down. That he’d thought about life beyond notches on his bed post. No wonder he’d been angry. She’d got him wrong every step of the way.
“Eiley!” Her name was being singsonged on repeat, and she snapped out of her autopilot customer greetings to find Blair’s beaming face.
The teaching assistant looked lovelier than ever, glossy hair windswept, wearing black Hunter wellies and a paisley-print dress in rusted orange.
She clutched a bouquet of bright sunflowers in one hand, nails a pretty burgundy colour against the green stems.
“Hello! You look very nice.” Eiley pretended she was glad to see her but she was struggling to cope with keeping her public face on. Behind her eyes, a headache was forming, the pressures of socialising matched with the racket of kids screaming in the scare maze quickly depleting her battery.
“Thank you! I’m so glad to see the bookstore all up and running. What a great idea, putting it on wheels!” Blair tucked her thumb under the strap of her handbag as she admired the van.
“Aye, I can’t take credit for it. It was Maggie’s idea.”
“Well, either way, looks like business is booming.” She bounced excitedly on the balls of her feet. “I might have to browse the shelves. I’ve been craving a good thriller.”
“They’re right at the back if you want to go in.” Eiley pointed and hoped that would be it, but Blair lingered. No wonder Warren had been interested. She was the exact opposite of Eiley, all bubbly joy and effortless warmth.
“So, have you had a nice half-term with the kids,” asked Blair, “or are you eager to usher them back into school on Monday?”
“I think the lack of routine always throws Sky off a bit,” Eiley admitted. “But we’re having a good time, getting lots of woodland walks in before the weather turns.”
“Aw, fab!” Blair crooned. “If you ever want to chat about how we can support Sky during the holidays, please let me know. I can imagine it’s tough.”
“Thank you.” Eiley’s voice softened with gratitude.
She’d been so lucky to find a support network for Sky that worked, not just with forest school, but social workers and local support groups.
With their help, he was slowly coming out of his shell, communicating with gestures, expressions, and even sign language whereas once, he’d been completely separated from the world.
After a few speech therapy sessions, she even had hope that he might speak one day.
She made an effort in return. “How about you? How have you been?”
“Actually …” Blair bit her bottom lip, plum-purple lipstick smearing on her teeth. “Well, I wanted to talk to you about Warren, the firefighter. It seemed like there was some tension in class the other week.”
A stone rose in Eiley’s throat at the mention of him, and she tried to gulp it down. Failed. “No tension. We just had a wee misunderstanding during the flood a few weeks back, but I barely know him.” She’d never been any good at lying, and was certain Blair would see right through her.
Or not. Blair wiped her brow in relief. “Phew. That’s good to know, because he actually asked me if I’d be interested in going to dinner with him.”
“Oh. Lovely,” said Eiley, wiping her clammy palms against her jeans. He’d certainly moved on quickly.
Her lungs felt crushingly tight at the thought of him kissing someone else the way he’d kissed her. Touching them. Teasing them. Would he take her back to his van? Would Blair kiss his scars the way she had? Would she notice when he froze like he was afraid of having to explain them?
“And are you?” Eiley pushed, afraid of the answer. “Interested, that is?”
“I’d be crazy not to be, let’s be honest.” Blair fanned her reddening face dramatically. “I just wanted to make sure I wasn’t stepping on any toes, that’s all.”
“Nope. My toes are great …”
Blair frowned.
Eiley tried to fix her blundering quickly. “I just mean, I hope you have a nice date on your time.” She facepalmed. “I mean … nice time on your date .”
If Blair saw the jealousy behind her verbal diarrhoea, she didn’t show it.
“Thank you, Eiley. I’m sure the right person will come along for you, too.
Until then, there are always books!” She pointed at a cover in the romance display that simply showed a man’s muscled torso and toned arms, then waggled her brows.
“I might actually pick that up after I’ve done my farm shop. Can you save it for me?”
“Aye, of course.” Eiley grabbed the paperback, glad when Blair thanked her and finally wandered off.
She cleared her throat, hiding her stinging eyes behind the man’s oiled-up body.
She hated herself for taking it this far with Warren.
She should have known that any amount of intimacy would only lead to hurt, especially when she’d realised too late that he was actually …
well, good . He’d gone out of his way to help her on multiple occasions.
Had been kind to her when she hadn’t to him.
He’d set his own needs aside to worship her in bed, and hadn’t pushed her away when she’d blown hot and cold.
And she’d been able to say things – shout things – she’d never been able to before.
It wasn’t just about the extremely wonderful sex, she realised, but about that bizarre connection forming between them.
The one that had allowed her to be herself with him, instead of the diluted version she offered everyone else.
“That bad, is it?” a woman grumbled at her as Eiley wiped her cheeks and returned her focus to the customers.
She held two Agatha Christie books in her hands and cast a scathing look at the hockey romance she clutched.
“I despise those childish stories full of sex and whatnot! I’ve no respect for women who indulge in them. Should be banned, if you ask me!”
Any other day, Eiley would have smiled and nodded, afraid to chase off a customer or trigger a confrontation. Today, she held strong, her patience at its limit.
“There’s nothing wrong with wanting sex or happy endings, especially when most men in real life only treat us like rubbish. God forbid we write our own remedies for that, create our own joy!”
Taken aback, the woman stamped her foot. “Well, there’s no need to get snippy with me, Missus. I’ll know not to buy my books from you.” She threw the murder mysteries down and marched off.
“Good!” shouted Eiley to her back. “Books are supposed to be for open-minded people anyway, not miserable purists like you. Miss Marple probably loved some late night sex after a long hard day of solving crimes!”
A few customers flashed mortified glances, some of them scuttling away.
Eiley ignored them, rounding on her heel – and only then did she notice Harper and Brook juggling approximately eight pumpkins of all shapes and sizes. Brook was wide-eyed as he asked, “Mum, what’s sex?”
Harper hid herself behind a large orange pumpkin and started tittering.
“Oh my god.” Eiley cringed, ushering him away from the thickening crowd of shoppers.
The easy option would be to distract him, brush him off, but she’d always wanted her children to know they could talk about anything – when they were ready to.
“It’s something that adults do when they like each other,” felt like the best way to evade the very uncomfortable subject.
“Like what Harper writes about in her kissing books?”
Harper snorted. “Yep, like that.”
“Are you ready to put those pumpkins in the van?” Eiley opened the passenger door quickly, helping Brook with his overflowing collection of gourds.
With his back turned, Harper nudged Eiley, muttering, “You’ve got some explaining to do later.”
Eiley didn’t doubt it.