Chapter 16
SIXTEEN
The days passed by in a whirlwind of Kegel exercisers and lube as Christmas approached and the footfall through town increased. Outside, Pilgrim Street was glowing with Christmas lights, the people walking below wrapped up in thick coats and hats, arms weighed down with bags full of gifts.
The cash in my account was stacking up at a rate I’d never dared dream of. And I still had about half my stock left, along with a promise from my mam that she could try to get her hands on more if needed. What was more, my Liaison Secrète customers very often picked up a veg peeler or one of the steamier paperbacks I’d discovered amongst the collection and placed prominently near the desk. Olivia was doing really well, too. She buzzed up to the shop in her Fiat 500 every day I needed her and was an absolute godsend for selling the gardening gear, not to mention becoming gradually more comfortable with presenting the ever-popular book.
I’d continued to send customers Penn’s way. Each person who asked for Jean-Luc was given the nod towards his side of the shop. Before long, I noticed that he’d been in receipt of some more Barry White albums in various formats. He’d also added some copies of Marvin Gaye’s Let’s Get It On , as well as albums featuring ‘Je t’aime… moi non plus’, perhaps in homage to our French benefactor.
We still weren’t really speaking – this ceasefire was purely of a professional nature, which seemed to suit us both. I was very popular with the other tenants though, as they continued to benefit from my erotic wares. Even Melissa popped her head in to congratulate me and left with a bulging package under her arm, pun intended. However, Penn continued to irritate the life out of me.
I winced whenever his mates came in, tinkering with guitars and drinking beers, and he struggled to suppress his disdain whenever I vibed along to Taylor Swift while tending to my merchandise. He’d developed some more annoying habits too, such as leaving half-eaten sandwiches in the back room, usually in inconspicuous places so that the first clue they were there was the pungent odour of rotting ham. He left the toilet seat up in the staff loos, chewed gum loudly and called other men ‘bro’ or ‘my guy’ when making a sale. All in all, I was nettled at least twenty-five per cent of the time.
One day, about a week into December, it was near to closing time and we were restocking for the following day. Olivia and I were arranging some cheese graters on a shelf when I spotted a familiar face through the window, barely visible in the dark. It was Neil, the previous tenant of the shop, who’d behaved so weirdly in the cafe that time. He was staring at the glass where I’d added another message under the main sign in green and red swirly print. It said All I Want For Christmas Is Jean-Luc , to promote my illicit spicy goods. A little gift for the one you love… or just for yourself , I’d added below, in smaller writing.
Neil clamped his lips between his teeth so that the edges grew white, and marched towards the door. He clattered through it, the door slamming off the wall as he entered.
‘I’d like to see this Jean-Luc,’ he said, white patches blooming on his florid cheeks.
Olivia beamed and leaped behind the desk, reaching for the book. ‘Coming right up,’ she said with a cheeky wink. At twenty-one, she was of such a guileless, sweet nature that it hadn’t seemed to occur to her that he wasn’t in the best of moods.
Neil stood there, pausing for a moment, but then strode up, flicked open the cover and winced at its contents.
‘I knew it,’ he said. ‘I thought that’s what it was after seeing those posts you’ve been splashing around the internet.’
I laughed nervously. ‘What’s the problem, Neil? Are you not here to make a purchase?’
He glared at me, and the smile fell from my face.
‘Am I hell. How are you getting away with selling this stuff?’
I blinked. ‘I’m not sure what you’re getting at. It’s really none of your business, to be honest, and I can’t understand what you’re objecting to. Are you part of some kind of chastity movement, or is this on religious grounds?’ Bolstered by sudden indignation, I’d stalked a few paces closer to him, squaring my shoulders. I glanced at Olivia, who’d frozen in place, her face now pale.
He chuckled nastily. ‘It’s nothing to do with chastity. It’s to do with principles. Mike seems to be happy with all sorts under this roof now, when he gave me the heave-ho for a few swimwear pics. Which were advertising the swimwear I was selling!’
I hesitated. He seemed, at this point, to be making a fair argument. If that was the reason Mike had turfed him out, then my stuff should have raised an eyebrow too.
‘That’s, of course, if he knows what it is you’re up to. Mike!’ he yelled, looking around, then hulked towards the door, poking his head into the passage. ‘ Mike ! I want a word.’ His voice was like icy gravel and didn’t extend a friendly invitation to our landlord.
Penn walked over. ‘Mike’s not here, pal.’
‘And who the bloody hell are you, pal ?’ Neil said, rounding on him, his tone now dripping with sarcasm. ‘Jean-Luc?’
‘Jean-Luc is a silent partner,’ replied Penn smoothly. ‘Now clear off. Whatever beef you’ve got with Mike has nothing to do with us.’
‘I’d say it does, if you’re breaking the same “rules” as me.’ He mimed quote marks. ‘If he doesn’t already know, then I’ll tell him and make sure he upholds his precious principles. And if he does know, and you’re getting special treatment for some reason, then we’ll be having more than just words.’ He ground his fist into his palm.
My heart started to thump as I realised how unhinged he was.
Olivia let out a soft whimper, and I felt a flash of anger. How dare Neil come in here and upset my staff? I walked closer, looking stonily up at his looming figure, trying not to let my legs shake.
‘I don’t know if you heard my friend the first time,’ I said, tipping my head towards Penn, ‘but I believe he told you to clear off. And I’d second that by telling you to fuck off, and go fuck yourself while you’re at it. And never come back.’
‘What did you just say to me?’ he leered, his voice dropping dangerously low. He narrowed his eyes, his fists flexing, and took a step towards me.
He never got to take a second step. There was a rush of air beside me as Penn hurried to stand between us. He held one hand behind his back to steer me away, at the same time pointing a finger in Neil’s face.
‘You stay away from her, you nasty piece of shit,’ Penn seethed through gritted teeth. ‘Leave her the fuck alone.’
Neil flinched and stumbled back, his sturdy back crunching into my shelves, which clattered off their supports, spilling their contents onto the floor. His arms pinwheeled, and he landed on his arse in amongst the wreckage.
Then the door crashed open and Jake ran in, looking at the scene with horror. He immediately got the brief and helped Penn drag Neil out onto the street like two terriers mauling a Dobermann. They sent him flying onto the pavement.
‘You haven’t heard the last of this,’ he said, getting up and dusting himself down, practically frothing at the mouth.
Jake ran at him, and Neil, thinking better of it, turned on his heel and raged off into the darkness. The four of us stood on the pavement, all breathing heavily.
‘Are you okay?’ Penn asked me.
‘I’m fine.’ I turned to Olivia, who looked on the verge of tears. ‘Come here. I’m so sorry.’ I went to her side, pulling her into a hug. She was shaking like a leaf.
Christa then ran outside. ‘What the…?’
‘Don’t worry,’ said Jake, his chest puffing up. ‘It’s sorted. Man won’t show his face here again.’
Christa stared down the road. ‘Is that… Neil?’
‘Unfortunately,’ I said, rubbing at my chest, trying to soothe the ache of the adrenaline rush to my heart. ‘He’s a lunatic. He seems to think he was thrown out for putting up swimwear adverts and that I’m now getting away with far worse.’
Jake shook his head. ‘Nah. They were more than just swimwear pics. Well, they were of women in swimwear, but each time he put up a new one, it edged closer and closer to Readers’ Wives .’
‘I had no idea,’ breathed Christa. ‘He only lasted a few weeks after I moved in, and let’s just say I wasn’t interested in frequenting his shop. He was always a bit weird.’
‘Aye, weird and creepy. That’s why Mike gave him the boot,’ said Jake.
He looked at Olivia, who was still cowering under my arm. ‘Is she alright?’ he asked me.
‘I’m okay,’ she said, her voice trembling.
‘Let’s get you home,’ I said. ‘I’ll call us a taxi, and I’ll take you myself. I can bring your car over later.’
She shook her head. ‘No. You don’t need to do that. I got the bus in today; I’ll be fine.’
‘I can’t let you go alone. Just give me a minute to shut up the shop,’ I said.
‘It’s fine!’ she protested.
‘Listen, I’m on the same bus I think,’ said Christa. ‘I left my car at home. It’s the 33 you’d be getting, isn’t it?’ Olivia nodded. ‘Right. That’s settled then.’ Christa took her inside to get their coats, and they left. Jake followed shortly after, fist-bumping Penn on the way.
I stood in the shop, looking at the mess Neil had made with the cheese graters. The shelf supports were askew too – I’d have to sort it out in the morning. Meanwhile, I got a box and started filling it with the graters to clear them from the floor.
Penn had been standing in the street, his back against the window, presumably composing himself. But now he came inside; I heard the door snicking shut behind me as I gathered the remaining kitchenware. He kneeled beside me and helped put the last ones in the box.
‘Are you alright?’ I asked.
He laughed softly. ‘It’s not my first time wrestling someone out of a room when they’re not wanted. I have a brother, remember?’
‘I didn’t think posh people were into brawling.’ A smile tugged at the corner of my lips.
‘I didn’t think you were into sex toys, but we all have our hidden depths.’
We locked eyes and then started to laugh, a little uncomfortably. This was uncharted territory, a World War One Christmas football game for the modern age.
I watched him reach for a rogue grater that had scattered almost out of reach, his T-shirt riding up just enough that I caught a glimpse of his lithe waist. Just above his hip was a ripple of muscle that sloped towards his belt buckle… something tingled in a similar area of my body. I gritted my teeth, frustrated at another of these intrusive thoughts. I don’t think of Penn that way. It was just because of seeing him stand up to Neil, that was all. A simple animal response to being defended and protected. Or Stockholm syndrome. One of the two.
He sighed and stood up, brushing dust off his knees, and I followed suit, turning my face away to hide the flush I could feel across my cheeks.
‘Thanks,’ I said quietly. ‘For doing that.’
He shrugged. ‘He deserved it. And I think we might have uncovered the saboteur.’
‘God. I think you’re right.’
It all made sense. The stalking around outside, taking umbrage at me for having the audacity to rent what he thought of as his space. He’d clearly been looking at the shop’s Instagram if he’d suspected what I was selling, so he could easily have left those nasty comments.
‘I can absolutely picture him wielding a spray can at the window of our shop,’ I agreed. ‘He’s not the most stable of people.’ I shivered.
‘Well, I don’t think he’ll be back,’ Penn said, looking at me with mild concern. He noticed the way I’d shuddered and put his hands on my upper arms. His dark eyes didn’t quite blaze, but there were embers there. ‘I’m sure he won’t be back.’
For a moment, I couldn’t tear my gaze away from him. But then I remembered I was meant to be a strong, independent woman and stood back. ‘Too right,’ I said with an awkward cough. ‘I don’t think he’d run the risk of tearing the arse out of his jeans with my cheese graters again.’
He went off to sort out his side of the shop, and I finished up on mine. After getting my coat from the back room, I came out to find he was still there, jacket on and keys in hand.
‘How are you getting home?’ he asked.
‘Just on the bus. Like normal.’
He glanced out of the window. ‘Look, I don’t think Neil will come back, but he was pretty amped-up. Can I help you get home safe?’
Inside, I recoiled. Penn and I weren’t really friends. Despite our united front over that loser Neil, I wasn’t used to feeling congenial towards him. But there was something else. That tingle I’d felt as I saw his bare skin had unnerved me – even as I looked at him now, the image flashed into my head, and what was worse, my mind was peeling back his T-shirt even further… I tried to keep my expression neutral.
‘There’s no need. It’s only a short bus ride away and at the completely opposite end of town to you. I’ll see you next week, eh?’ I shrugged my handbag over my shoulder and walked out the door.
Then, as I hit the pavement, I stopped. Standing there alone in the dark, all I could see in my imagination was Neil, his wild eyes boring a hole right through me, the veins in his forehead popping. My bus stop was a few streets away and, despite my bravado, my paranoid brain conjured Neil appearing from a side alley ready for round two. I hovered there indecisively, just long enough for Penn to come out, locking the door behind him.
I turned around. ‘Have a good weekend,’ I said, forcing a smile. ‘See ya.’ I turned away again and took a few hesitant steps towards the junction at the end of the road.
‘Wait.’ Penn was still there, rubbing the bristles on his cheek. ‘I wasn’t actually planning on going home just yet. I was going to see a film.’ He nodded to the small independent cinema up the road. ‘You could come with me.’
‘Why?’ I blurted. The moment felt so similar to being asked on a date, I immediately balked at it. Then, just as quickly, I reminded myself he was only offering to keep me company.
He looked amused, and I wondered if he’d read my thoughts. ‘Just to give Neil a chance to cool off, or at least get bored of waiting. If he’s out there at all,’ he hastened to add, noticing my alarmed expression.
‘Right,’ I said, composing myself and standing a little straighter. ‘Well. That’s a thought. I mean, it’s good of you to offer.’
I wavered. Beyond Penn was a warm, safe space, and behind me were the mean streets of Newcastle, with one especially mean citizen who bore a grudge.
‘Okay. I’ll come.’
We sat in the darkness with a box of popcorn each. A shared bucket I’d thought was a little bit too intimate, and Penn seemed to be of the same mind. Also, I liked sweet and he liked salty, which seemed to be the perfect metaphor for our relationship thus far. I took a handful of mine and stuffed it into my mouth, savouring the buttery taste – it was exactly the comfort food I needed.
The film was an arty, highbrow one, with an indecipherable plot and lots of long scenes where people said nothing while haunting violin music played in the background. A woman appeared to think she’d grown a tail, which I think was some kind of symbolism, and the man she was in love with occasionally disappeared into a hole in the ground, an equally obscure metaphor. At least I hoped they were metaphors, or I was starting to dissociate.
It was crap, in all honesty. Penn was watching it, rapt and barely blinking, but I’d much rather have been watching Fast and Furious 27 (or whichever number they were up to), or anything with Channing Tatum in it. However, the dark, closeted atmosphere was doing wonders for the knots in my neck. With every minute and every handful of popcorn, I relaxed a little more until my eyes started to blink more heavily and I sank deeper into my seat. The scene in front of me – a statue of a Roman soldier with a single tear rolling down its cheek – seemed to blur and then disappeared altogether.
The next time I opened my eyes, the credits were rolling. Then, under my right cheek, something stirred. It was Penn’s shoulder. With an unfeminine snort, I sat up straight, wiping a little drool from the corner of my mouth.
‘Shit,’ I said, cringing to my core. My eyes flicked to his shoulder, which was mercifully free of saliva.
He gave me a wry smile. ‘Morning.’
‘Ha. Um, sorry about that. I think today took it out of me.’
He shrugged. ‘It’s fine. I wondered if you’d just got bored of the film.’
‘No. It was… absolutely fine.’
‘They should put that endorsement on the poster. Anyway, we should probably head out.’
We walked out into the street, and I felt like I’d been ejected from the womb into the freezing-cold world. I pulled my coat tightly around me. Penn shoved his hands into his pockets, and we looked at each other then quickly away. Now that we were out of the cinema, we were back to the stilted politeness of before.
‘Night then,’ I said.
‘Night,’ he replied.
I turned and walked off down the street, until I heard footsteps behind me.
‘I don’t need you to shepherd me home,’ I said with a note of impatience.
‘Um. My car’s parked down this way.’
My face flamed, and I lifted my chin. ‘Right. Well. I guess we’ll walk together then.’
He fell in step beside me, and we headed down the road and through the next two streets in complete silence. We’d reached my bus stop before he’d arrived at his car. There was no one else there, Neil or otherwise, so I took a seat.
Penn stood there for a moment and then sat beside me, but a good few feet away down the bench.
‘What are you doing?’ I asked, giving him a sideways glance and shrugging my handbag further onto my shoulder. He tapped his foot and seemed to be thinking very hard.
‘Can I ask you something?’ he asked.
‘Like what?’
He took a deep breath. ‘What are you doing next weekend?’
I whipped my head round, goggling at him. ‘Eh? You don’t mean…?’
‘No! No. I don’t mean…’ He held his hands up in front of him. ‘I… I need a favour.’ He looked so anxious, I wondered if he was about to ask me for a kidney rather than a date.
‘Go on,’ I said with caution.
‘It’s my parents. They’re having a Christmas ball, and I’m expected to be there.’
The way he said this gave away his suppressed poshness. He was expected to be there , rather than he needed to go. And a ball , of all things. No Noddy Holder and a bottle of Bucks Fizz for this family’s Christmas celebrations.
‘The thing is, they keep trying to fix me up with someone. They want me to come home and settle down, and they think if I settle down with her , then I’ll never fly the roost again.’
‘I thought you already had a girlfriend,’ I blurted then immediately realised my mistake. I looked away, cringing.
‘I can imagine why you’d think that.’ I could hear the smile in his voice, although he had the good grace not to say how he knew. ‘But Sophia, the girl in that photo, is my ex. My family want me to get back together with her. She’s a “good match” apparently.’
‘Wow. Your life really is like Downton Abbey . How archaic.’
‘Tell me about it,’ he said, without a hint of amusement.
‘So what does this have to do with me?’
He swallowed and screwed up his face. ‘I need you to pretend to be my girlfriend.’
‘ Excuse me ?’ I stood up abruptly and looked down at him. ‘Are you kidding me?’
‘I’m really not.’ He shook his head, looking thoroughly mortified. ‘I’ve tried everything. Bargaining, pleading, blackmail – nothing works. I’ve decided the only thing that will get it through their head is if I turn up with someone else. Make them, and her, see that I’m not available.’
I stared at him for a long while and then shook my head, trying to expel the shock from it. ‘Why me? Don’t you know any other women? Your actual friends?’
He winced at the implication that we were, in fact, not friends. ‘I do. But you know my mates that come into the shop? Think the female version of that. If I want my parents to take me seriously, it needs to be someone more… normal.’
‘You mean boring.’
‘I mean polite, inoffensive, able to hold an adult conversation. Minimal tattoos and hair that isn’t blue.’ Hope was starting to bleed through his embarrassed expression.
‘I don’t understand. You… hate me. And surely your dad and Sophia will recognise me from the protest.’
‘Given that you spent most of your time there drenched in red paint, I’d be surprised if they did.’ He paused, taking a breath. He looked me straight in the eye. ‘And I don’t hate you.’
I stood there for a moment, breathing almost as deeply as after our altercation with Neil. This was ludicrous. Literal madness. The thought of me cutting around rural Northumberland, hobnobbing with landed gentry and swishing about in a ball gown made my head hurt. I had to tell him no. No way.
‘It’s not going to happen, Penn. Sorry about your… predicament, but I’m not the answer.’
‘I’ll do anything you want.’ He looked up at me, looking suddenly much younger and less arrogant than ever before. ‘Please.’
His face was pained enough that a treacherous part of me started to genuinely feel sorry for him. Despite all of our enmity, I could feel myself being suckered into my usual inclination to do a good deed. But it was a ridiculous thing to ask me to do, even if I did feel bad for him. Not knowing what to say, I stared in the other direction.
‘Annie,’ he said from behind me, his voice a little hoarse. ‘Really, I know it’s a strange request, and I’m mortified to even ask. But you’re… perfect.’
I turned slowly.
‘You’re the perfect person to do this. You tick all the boxes – social skills, confidence, no visible piercings…’ I rolled my eyes, and he gave me a hopeful smile. ‘Listen, I can… compensate you.’
‘I am not taking money for some kind of parental pantomime,’ I snapped, crossing my arms tightly across my chest.
‘I don’t necessarily mean money. Like I said, I’ll do anything you want.’
‘Anything?’ I said with a disbelieving laugh. ‘Like hoovering my side of the shop? Or being a model for my range of latex thongs? Or I could go all out and ask you to put a “ban shooting and hunting” sign in your front window.’
‘I would do all of those things. Maybe not the thong, but the rest of it.’
‘Penn, I’m joking. And besides, you’d never be able to pull off the anti-shooting poster. Not with all that blood on your hands.’
He looked at me for a long moment. ‘I can assure you, there isn’t a drop of blood on my hands.’
I sighed. ‘Yeah, I get it. Bird blood doesn’t count.’
‘I’ve never shot a bird in my life. I always miss. On purpose.’
My jaw dropped, and I just stared at him.
He shrugged. ‘It’s true. I hate it all, but I’m expected to do it, just like I’m expected to turn up this weekend. So I’d put up a poster – gladly.’
Eventually, my shock dissipated enough for me to speak. ‘You would?’
‘Of course I would. Annie, I don’t think I’m the person you think I am. Not the whole deal, at least.’
I stood there, my mind racing. This was so unexpected, I didn’t know what to think at all. This new information about Penn had thrown every preconception I had about him into the air. He was against shooting? The stone-cold opposition I’d had to him started to feel like it was on shaky ground. If I’d misunderstood this about him, then what other things had I got wrong?
Then I thought of how he’d defended me and how a delicate stitch of trust had been woven between us. I opened my mouth to say no again, but it caught in my throat. Maybe it was the mental whiplash I’d just experienced, but I found myself considering it. He was sitting in front of me looking… vulnerable. What I said next was almost like a reflex – against my will but as natural as breathing in and out. ‘Okay,’ I said softly, and he sat up straighter, his eyes widening. I raised my hand. ‘Not so fast. There would need to be ground rules. I’d want my own bedroom.’
He was stock-still, seeming as shocked at my U-turn as I’d been about his hidden principles. ‘Of course. My parents are beyond traditional. Not until the wedding night and all that.’
‘I’d need regular breaks. Time off for good behaviour, if you will. I don’t think I could put up with the pretence twenty-four-seven.’
‘Done.’
‘And then I’d need to be repaid.’
He now looked cautious.
‘Not money. First the posters. Then no more jam sessions in the shop.’ I held up my fingers and started counting them off. ‘No more music battles with the speakers – I get to choose the music we play. The rotten sandwiches have to go, and you need to put the toilet seat down. Every time.’
‘Done, done and done,’ he said, jumping up and running a hand through his hair. ‘Whatever it takes. I will owe you big time.’
‘You will.’
Just then, my bus rounded the corner.
‘Thanks, Annie,’ he said. ‘Really. I can’t thank you enough.’
‘You can thank me once it’s done. For now, we’ll just concentrate on pulling off the best acting of our lives. See you next week, boyfriend .’ I stuck out my hand to hail the driver.
He grinned. ‘Have a nice weekend, girlfriend . But seriously, you’re a good mate for doing this.’
My eyebrows rose.
‘Oh come on, we can call each other mates. You even said to Neil… what was it? Oh yeah – “I don’t know if you heard my friend”. You said it first.’ He smirked smugly.
‘Don’t get ahead of yourself,’ I said, giving him a withering look as I stepped onto the bus. But when the doors closed and it pulled away, I found I was smiling.