Chapter Sixteen
The rain continues for the rest of the day, pounding against the roof of the cabin so hard that I’m surprised it doesn’t fall in.
After returning from his walk soaking wet, Jed strips off with a speed that is both impressive and affronting. Having him in the cabin makes it feel more cramped, but it also means that most of our conversations are about birds and trees, which is a welcome distraction.
By lunchtime, large puddles of water are beginning to gather in the clearing in front of the cabin, and the rain is still bucketing down. The weather forecast says it’s due to keep raining for the rest of the day.
Declan watches the sky, his foot tapping softly on the deck until finally he pulls out his laptop to call Bri. The reception is patchier than it was the night before, but her beaming face still feels like sunshine, and when Declan sees her he seems to relax slightly.
He seems to actually like her; he listens to what she says and he trusts her judgement. The thought sends a pang of something uncomfortably like jealousy through my stomach.
‘It’s raining pretty heavily, Bri,’ says Declan. ‘Do you think we need to call off the event this afternoon?’
For the first time since I’ve met her, Bri’s expression turns serious.
‘There are a lot of bloggers coming today, and some people from the bigger online book clubs. Read, Repeat will be there,’ she says, and a wave of dread washes over me, so consuming that I barely notice Declan’s sharp inhalation.
Read, Repeat. The one blog that Declan granted an interview.
Tessa Dalton, who helped Declan tell everyone I was stumbling in the dark.
I try to catch my breath, to remember that I am a professional, but it keeps running away from me. Call it off. Please, call it off , I mentally beg.
‘I know it’s only a hundred or so actual book sales,’ Bri continues, ‘but the reach is bigger than that. Their content will be everywhere.’
Declan sighs and I swear he’s about to rub his head, but he glances sideways and then drops his hand, rubbing it on the leg of his jeans instead.
He leans further forward. I’m trying not to eavesdrop, but I find myself automatically leaning forward too.
A block of dread is sitting heavy in my stomach.
‘What does Jed think about the weather?’ Bri asks.
‘Going to clear up in an hour or so,’ Jed booms from inside, which is very much not what the weather forecast says.
Bri nods. ‘Okay,’ she says. ‘Let’s send out an alert about the weather, but keep the event on. If there are any dramatic mud rescues, hopefully someone will be on hand to capture them on camera.’
Declan leans forward. ‘Bri,’ he says softly, and she waves a hand, sending a blur of movement across the screen.
‘I know, Declan,’ she says. ‘But it could make a big difference, if you’re up to it.’
No one asks if I’m up to it.
Declan takes a breath and nods. Then he straightens and signs off from the call, like a professional.
I’ll be selling books. Maybe Tessa Dalton won’t come. She’s interested in Declan, not me, anyway. But the words from her article still feel like they’re pressing in on me.
‘We should check the path,’ Declan says to Jed.
‘An hour,’ says Jed. ‘It will clear up in an hour.’
The rain stops – I kid you not – fifty-eight minutes later. Jed is ready and waiting at the door, and he and Declan check the path in from the road. I message Yumi in a panic.
Someone from Read, Repeat is going to be here tonight. Any sage advice?
You should try picturing everyone in their underwear when they arrive.
Pretty sure that strategy is just for when you’re on stage.
She sends a shrug emoji. Then, I use it all the time. Bet Declan Archer looks good in his underwear.
Jed and Declan return twenty minutes later with mud-covered boots and splatters of brown up their legs. I resolutely keep my eyes on their faces.
I’m half expecting that the mud will irritate Declan, but instead he just looks like another version of himself – dare I say, Wilderness Declan.
And I find that I feel almost . . . jealous.
He doesn’t say anything to me, just takes off his boots and walks inside, and I want to yell something at him, but I don’t even know what.
Fear and disappointment scratch inside my chest. I don’t want to do this.
‘It’s muddy but passable,’ says Jed, coming up the steps behind him.
‘Should we get the books?’ He looks so alive in the mud and the rain that for a brief moment, it’s difficult to feel too pessimistic about Declan’s attitude, or about book sales.
It doesn’t ease my dread at the possibility of Tessa Dalton arriving and writing mean things about me, but I’m grateful for his help.
Given the rain we set the book table up in the corner of the deck, and I manage to convince Jed to angle it slightly so it’s not facing the crowd.
When he and Declan head down the path again at 3.
40 p.m., the group they return with is considerably smaller than it was the day before.
There are maybe twenty people, all rugged up in rain jackets and gumboots, and I am hoping desperately that all of them buy books, and that none of them are from Read, Repeat.
The rain holds off, but so does the internet.
Declan tries to connect with Bri three times before he gives up on the computer.
He glances up at the small crowd, then goes back to staring at the computer as though it might work at any moment.
I don’t even realise that I’m holding my breath until it starts to feel tight in my chest.
A few people shuffle in the crowd.
Declan bows his head. He half shakes it, as though arguing with himself. Then he takes a deep breath and turns to look at me.
His eyes lock on to mine and it’s the same as yesterday, but it’s also . . . not. There’s a rawness in the air between us, like our conversation on the deck earlier never ended. Like we’re the only two people in the clearing.
My stomach tightens, and I ignore the defensive reflex to raise an eyebrow, or to roll my eyes.
‘Gordon Ramsay,’ I mouth.
Declan doesn’t smile, but something in his expression eases. He clears his throat and turns back to the crowd.
And he begins.
I finally exhale, my heart beating like I’ve run a marathon. Or, you know, a hundred metres.
Ten minutes later, Declan’s stumble is a distant memory.
Like yesterday, he is magnetic. Unlike yesterday, though, halfway through the presentation he walks down off the deck to stand with everyone, forming a big circle that feels like one big book club.
It’s hard to believe that two events in one space can be so different, but there’s an intimacy to this one that is almost spellbinding.
When Declan finishes talking, he asks Jed to speak a bit about the trees, and Jed is so sternly captivating that even the birds stop to listen.
And then, suddenly, it’s over. Instead of crowding around the bookshop table, though, people stay crowded around Declan and Jed, chatting until the air grows cold, until they’re ready to leave.
I have sold a total of five books, and have been asked a total of five questions – three of which are about why Declan dedicated the book to me (‘You’ll have to ask him’) and two of which are about where the bathroom is (‘Nowhere’).
If someone from Read, Repeat is here, they haven’t approached me, and after an hour I finally start to relax. The bad news is now there’s room in my brain to worry about how few books I’ve sold. The lighting will never be fixed at this rate. Still stumbling in the dark.
Even so, I’m managing to hold the smile on my face when Declan approaches with a petite woman with thick black hair.
‘Clarrie,’ says Declan. ‘This is Tessa, from Read, Repeat. It’s an online blog that does some of my favourite book reviews.’ Tessa looks at him sideways, and there’s a familiarity in her gaze that registers through the roaring in my ears. They know each other.
Tessa Dalton, from Read, Repeat. Dread pools in the pit of my stomach and I try to tell myself that I’m an adult, but all I can think is that these two people in front of me laughed about me behind my back.
No matter what happened between Declan and I earlier .
. . he’s still the person who told this woman that I was stumbling in the dark, and I can’t let myself forget that.
‘Clarrie,’ I manage to say, taking Tessa’s palm in mine. ‘From Brooks’ Books.’
‘I know who you are,’ says Tessa breezily, and I want to sink into the deck. ‘Did you catch the article I did on Declan before the book came out?’
‘Tessa,’ says Declan, when words dry up in my throat. I can’t look at him, and I feel angry and embarrassed and small.
‘I think I saw it,’ I say, and I hate how weak my voice sounds but I’m proud of myself for managing to get something out.
Tessa smiles, and it’s not mean, but it’s not warm, either. ‘I was just wondering if I can grab a photo?’ she asks.
‘Of me?’ The words slip out, and a laugh that I swear I have never heard come out of my mouth before bursts into the space between us.
Declan frowns behind Tessa’s shoulder, and his disdain is enough to help me straighten my shoulders.
I clutch on to it, letting anger drown out the embarrassment. ‘Sure. Let’s do it.’
‘Of the two of you together,’ says Tessa with an answering grin, and my heart freezes as Declan’s head swings towards her. It’s a bitter satisfaction that he looks uncomfortable as well.
‘It’ll take thirty seconds, D,’ promises Tessa.
D.
They lock gazes, Tessa’s smug and Declan’s unreadable. For a second, I think he will actually refuse, but he inhales softly, same as he did with Bri earlier.
‘Fine,’ he says.