Chapter 14
‘Bloody hell, Ava, I hardly recognized you there,’ Fiona grins as she carries the first of the catering trays through the front door of the bookshop. ‘You scrub up well, lass.’
I rush over to help her with the heavy trays of wraps, sandwiches and finger food.
My make-up is done, hair curled, and I’ve finally settled on my outfit choice: a mid-length, floaty, pink and black number that I pulled from my London wardrobe.
I plan to be barefoot until the event officially starts, but I have my heels ready to go.
‘You’re used to seeing me at my worst, Fiona: scraped-back hair, no make-up and, worst of all, before the caffeine that you supply me with to help me function like a human being. Wow, this food all looks amazing!’
‘We can lay it all out and then I’ll need to nip away and get my glad rags on! I can’t be late for the most exciting thing to happen to this village in months! A brand-new bookshop and Richard J. Walker in Ullapool, who’d have thought it?’
‘Are you a crime fiction fan, Fiona? Or just a Richard fan?’
Fiona’s laughter echoes around the bookshop. ‘God, no! I’m not… Well, let’s say he’s not my type. I know someone who loves his books, though. Devoured them, actually. A friend. A former friend.’
‘Former?’
Maybe Fiona and I have more in common than I realized.
I don’t want to think about Macy, though. Not today.
Fiona’s cheeks flush. ‘Erm, yes. Anyway, I’ve included some extra fruit skewers. We had some strawberries and mango going spare. Let’s put them on the edge of the table here. Do you need some help pouring the Prosecco?’
‘No, no. You go home and get ready! I need you back here with a smile on your face and a glass of fizz in your hand in approximately thirty-six minutes.’
‘Oh, Ava, everything looks just wonderful,’ she grins, gazing around. ‘I’m so glad you moved here. It’s so lovely to have fresh faces in the village and the bookshop is such a fantastic addition.’
‘And I’m single-handedly keeping your business afloat with my coffee addiction?’
She winks and gives me a warm hug. ‘Well, there is that. Okay, see you back here soon! Good luck!’
*
‘He’s even more gorgeous in real life, isn’t he?’ Donna whispers in my ear. ‘Your pal, Richard. I know he’s a wee bit older than us but look at him. Eilidh, what do you think?’
Eilidh blushes. ‘Oh, I don’t know. I mean—’
‘Sorry, is it too soon for you to be eyeing up other men? After Mark?’ Donna asks, rubbing her on the shoulder.
Eilidh eventually opened up to Donna about Mark at one of our book club meetings.
Donna threatened to hunt him down and kill him, but Eilidh graciously refused, and we all lived happily ever after.
Aside from the bookshop, being part of the three musketeers with Eilidh and Donna is my proudest achievement in Ullapool so far.
‘It’s not that,’ Eilidh whispers. ‘Richard is my ex. We were together for a few years before Mark and I met.’
‘Oh my God!’ Donna splutters. ‘Eilidh, you sly dog.’
‘Must have been an amicable breakup,’ I say with a smile. ‘Since you were willing to invite him along for me. Unless it was just an excuse to see him again?’
Eilidh’s face flushes a deeper shade of pink.
‘He’s staying at a bed and breakfast. No funny business.
Plus, I have the boys tonight.’ Just as she says it, a pair of boys tear through the bookshop, squealing and chasing each other between the shelves.
Eilidh tries to calm them, but I place a hand on hers and tell her it’s fine.
She continues, ‘I’m not ready for anything like that just now. ’
Donna nods. ‘I get it. A quickie for old times’ sake, then send him back to the bed and breakfast.’
‘Donna!’ Eilidh laughs, shaking her head.
The launch party of The Next Chapter is in full swing. The fizz flows, people chat, and the till is red hot. I paid Jen, Donna’s Saturday girl and one of the courtyard snoggers, to take charge of purchases tonight so I can mingle, gather content for social media and try to soak it all up.
Margaret has backed Richard into a corner, interrogating him about one of his mysteries. As I make my way over to rescue him, I bump into Rory.
I’ve been hugging everyone on arrival since the event started.
Without thinking, I lean in to do the same with Rory.
My face brushes against his cheek as he jumps back, as though I’ve given him an electric shock.
My arm, ready for the embrace, hangs in the air awkwardly. I let it drop as he steps back.
‘Hi,’ I say, clearing my throat. ‘It’s, erm, customary to return a hug from the host.’
He doesn’t reply. He’s made an effort for the occasion, or as much as Rory can. He’s swapped his usual Toolbox T-shirt for a plain black tee paired with a pair of smart, grey trousers, and I can smell the deep, woody scent of his aftershave. As I look back up, he stares me straight in the eye.
‘You have this habit of swooping in out of nowhere,’ he says, tapping me awkwardly on the shoulder, presumably to avoid any further advances. ‘I thought a plank of wood was about to come at me again.’
‘Says the middle-of-the-night painting ninja.’
Donna sips a large glass of fizz as she makes her way over to me, bumping into Finlay, who has a smoked salmon canapé in hand.
I hear Finlay manage to cough out, ‘I meant to ask… how was your holiday?’
‘Just what the doctor ordered.’ Donna flashes a wide smile. ‘Sun, sea, sand, the works. Well, not the works as in sex. I didn’t mean that… I didn’t do that. Have sex, I mean. Not on holiday.’
Donna casts me a sidelong glance. She grimaces at me as she brushes her hand across her forehead.
I sneak a glance at Rory, who seems to be enjoying the awkward interaction, judging by the grin on his face.
‘What is going on with these two?’ I whisper to him.
‘Keep watching, this is golden,’ he says in a low voice.
‘So, no more Lewis? Or, I mean, whatever his name was,’ Finlay says, waving his hand around and almost knocking Donna’s Prosecco out her hand.
‘Sorry. I’m sure you said his name was Lewis.
I remember because I thought of Lewis Hamilton, the racing driver.
And the Isle of Lewis, of course. Which is stunning this time of year. ’
‘No more Lewis,’ Donna confirms, flicking the edge of the false nail on her finger. ‘What about Keira Stanley? Are you two still…’
Finlay shakes his head firmly. ‘Oh, no. That wasn’t anything to write home about.
Finito. I don’t mean that, it’s just… we only went on a couple of dates.
Dogging. Oh, God, not dogging, in that way, I mean we went on a few doggy dates.
She has a dalmatian. Gorgeous dog. But not any more. Well, the dog is still alive, I mean…’
Rory attempts to muffle his laughter. Finlay’s face is crimson by the time he finally finishes spitting out what he’s trying to say, but Donna just chimes in with her beautiful laugh.
‘Good,’ she says after she’s recovered. ‘That she has a nice dog, I mean. I love my Bonnie, so I’m glad that other people have that in their lives. Anyway, I’d best…’
‘Yes, I’d better…’
‘Okay then.’
They each try to move around the other, but keep choosing the same way, somehow managing to lightly headbutt each other. They cringe in unison. Finlay stands still so Donna can make her way towards us.
She downs her fizz, her cheeks aflame, and blows her hair out of her face. ‘Ava, hello, you told me to let you know when it was seven o’clock for your speech. So, here I am, your walking alarm clock.’
‘Erm, what was that?’ I ask her.
‘What?’
‘You and Finlay. It’s all so… strange. The tension – or whatever you’d call it – is off the scale.’
‘There’s no tension,’ she protests. ‘Why would there be tension?’
Rory smirks. ‘Why, indeed?’
I check my watch. ‘Okay, thank you, it’s speech time. I’ll ask Richard to say something first. At least that’ll release him from Margaret’s grasp.’
I tap Richard on the shoulder as Margaret throws me a look of disdain. First Rory, now I’m stealing Richard. ‘I’m so sorry to interrupt. Richard, would you mind saying a few words now? I’ll introduce you.’
‘Certainly. It was lovely to meet you.’ Richard nods to Margaret before following me to the till area.
My palms are sweating as I call for everyone’s attention. Butterflies parade around my stomach.
As I look around the room, there is a sea of familiar faces.
But my heart pounds all the same as I catch sight of Eilidh, Pete, Donna, Finlay, Fiona and the rest of the villagers I’ve come to know these past two months.
And Rory. Rory, holding a glass of Prosecco that he tastes before making a face.
He lifts up his glass as he catches my eye.
He nods with something that could be mistaken for encouragement.
I can do this.
‘Thank you, everyone, for coming and supporting the launch of The Next Chapter bookshop,’ I say, gazing around the room.
‘Hooray!’ Donna whoops.
The room erupts into a mixture of laughter and applause. Looking around the bookshop at the eager faces, I feel the waves of support. I wet my lips, which feel like they’ve turned to sandpaper.
‘I’d like to thank the amazing Richard J. Walker for coming along to support the launch and am now going to invite him to say a few words. Richard, the stage is yours!’
I step back. Everyone applauds as Richard steps forward, looking slightly bemused at my abrupt introduction.
He looks much more handsome than the author headshot from his novels.
He is in his mid-forties, remarkably tall, with thick, wavy brown hair, warm, deep-brown eyes and a genuine smile that lights up the room.