Chapter 23 #2
Dark humour is having its moment in publishing and I for one am here for it. ‘As long as you’re not using them as a how-to manual, I’m sure we do.’
The women laugh uproariously. ‘Forgive us, we had a couple of Bloody Marys at breakfast and they’ve gone straight to our heads.’
‘Yeah,’ Lucy says. ‘The waitress did offer us the non-alcoholic version – a Bloody Shame!’ At that they double over in fits of hysterical laughter and it’s impossible not to be swept along in their silliness.
What fun it must be to retire to a tropical paradise with your best friends where you conjure better ways your husband could have died…
‘I take it you didn’t opt for the non-alcoholic version?’
‘No bloody way!’
* * *
The day flies by, with me helping guests find books and acquainting myself with the stock. When there’s a lull, I find the book orders and make a start on calling them.
‘Hi, this is Harper from the Barefoot Bookshop. Your order for, ah, How to Tell if your Cat is Plotting to Kill You has arrived.’ Gus left a note about a book supplier in Victoria on the island of Mahé that carries stock we can get quite fast when Michel does a helicopter run there.
However, if they don’t have the titles guests are after I’d need to order from the UAE, UK or US and with that comes a lengthy wait.
Stock control is at the top of my list to make sure there’s always a healthy range available, including quirky titles like this customer has managed to secure.
‘Oh, thank you!’ an American voice gushes. ‘I need to get that book read before we get home, for obvious reasons.’
I laugh and am met with silence. She’s joking, right? ‘You have some concerns about your cat?’
‘Some! It’s lucky I got to the island in one piece.
She’s a Maine Coon, the most gorgeous-looking feline you ever did see, but behind her regal beauty lies a cat who is premeditating homicide, I’m telling you.
No one ever believes me because she’s sweet as pie when I have visitors, the very epitome of a love bug, but as soon as they leave, the claws come out.
I love her and all, but when I close my eyes at night I do wonder if that’s going to be the night, if you know what I’m saying.
Finally, I’ve found a book that can help!
The vet of course thinks it’s all in my head – she had the audacity to recommend that I go see someone to talk! My cat has got everyone fooled.’
‘Yikes,’ is all I can think to say. ‘I’m just not sure this book will have the answers you’re searching for… From what I’ve heard it’s more satirical.’
‘Ooh, that’s not good. Well, can you deliver it anyway, Harper? I may as well read it now that I’ve paid for it.’
‘Deliver it?’
‘Suite eleven.’ And with that she promptly hangs up.
Can a cat really be plotting her downfall?
I can confirm you really do hear all sorts in bookshops!
I work down my list and manage to get hold of a few more resort guests whose orders have arrived and offer to deliver them too.
I call the front desk and ask if Joji can bring a bicycle to the bookshop for me.
Once I’ve locked up for the day, I gently place the books into the basket of my bike and go about delivering books, feeling like I’m some kind of book Santa.
I cycle along the path past the Cabana Bar, waving to the expats, breathing deep as I pass the colourful lantana blooms that give off a slight citrus scent.
It’s fun taking a peep into the renovated suites and meeting guests from all around the world with such varying tastes in books.
As I’m cycling back to staff quarters, I run into Michel, like, literally run into him, as he turns at the wrong moment.
‘Argh! Sorry!’
‘Nearly made me crash the helicopter, now you’re trying to take me out with a bike? I’m starting to worry that I might be the one who needs to take an “insurance” snap of you, Harper.’
‘Well, yes, not ideal to run into you like that but if you were more spatially aware…’
‘Oooh, it’s my fault. Again!’
‘Thank you for admitting that.’
‘What? No!’
I grin. ‘Which room is yours?’ I point to the staff quarters. I know Mariola is in room four, which is close to where we are. ‘So I can avoid it, before you go getting any ideas.’
‘Very funny. None of them. I live off site.’
Before I can ask him why, Mariola appears looking gorgeous in a long, floaty, orange dress. ‘Oh, don’t you look pretty? Are you two…?’ I point from one to the other. Have I interrupted something?
Mariola laughs. ‘I’m not sure what Michel’s doing. I’m off to dinner at my parents’ place.’
Is Michel blushing? It’s hard to tell with the fading light and the way he’s ducking his head all of a sudden. ‘Me too. Dinner with the family. Not Mariola’s family – uh – my family. Came to get Joji.’
‘Joji?’
‘He’s my cousin.’
‘Two peas in a pod when it comes to flirting,’ Mariola says. ‘Anyway, I better go. Have a good night, you two.’
Michel nods, stuffs his hands in his pockets and watches her go.
If I didn’t know better, I’d say the man is smitten, but Mariola seems blithely unaware.
‘Cat got your tongue?’
‘What?’
I leave him with the sound of my laughter.