Chapter Nineteen
Sunday’s Silent Reading Club
Something strange was happening to Harri.
Here he was with an evening of cosy company and quiet reading stretching out ahead of him and he couldn’t get past the same paragraph his eyes had skimmed at least twenty times. Nothing was going in, and it had everything to do with Annie Luna who, right this second, was curled up on one of the beanbags by the fire, her nose buried deeply in a bonkbuster novel from the Eighties, and she really was reading. He could tell. She was devouring that thing.
He didn’t know whether to be glad Annie finally seemed to have her bookworm mojo back or whether he was offended that she wasn’t lost in the same struggle between brain, book and the blazing fire inside his body, ignited last night in the Castle Lore library and still burning out of control now.
Had anyone else noticed? They must be able to see he was consumed with it? But the other Clove Lore residents were deep in their books too.
The lights were up in the shop and the pink and red love hearts strung around the shelves and hanging in the windows created a bright, festive feeling. Everyone had arrived an hour ago, bringing their baking and snacks, blankets and cushions, determined to throw themselves into the spirit of Annie’s vision.
She’d been busy like a bee, of course. Too busy to talk with Harri beyond the details of where the chairs ought to be set out and delegating the hot chocolate duties to him.
There’d been William to see to as well. He was currently in the green leather armchair, a blanket over his knees, looking very much at home with his tiny gold specs on his nose, reading some dense old volume of Roman plays in the original Latin and chuckling every now and again like he was listening to a comedy podcast.
There’d been a buzz of interest, led by Minty, about where on earth Mrs Crocombe had got to, and nobody had seen Mr Bovis either. They’d never normally miss a community event like this.
After some initial speculation, Minty had settled down to read. She’d brought the latest copy of The Lady and was tucking into a bag of pink bonbons with surprising relish. She looked as contented as can be with Jowan by her side with his works of John Donne, which he’d picked from the top of the bookshop’s poetry shelves remarking out loud to the volume, ‘Still here, my old friend.’
Aldous was at their feet with a rather revolting butcher’s bone keeping him occupied, not an easy thing to crunch, having no teeth to speak of.
Annie had been delighted to welcome Kit and Anjali when they arrived on what was clearly another date. They were currently cloistered in the furthest corner of the cafe and whispering together, their books unopened.
Austen and Patti were arranged on the stairs, limbs everywhere, both stuck into beach reads and looking just as happy as they always did.
A pregnant woman who Patti had introduced as her sister, Joy, had followed them inside with a wavy-haired man in a fisherman’s jumper. His name was Monty, and while Joy read something very intently on her Kindle, he made it his sole responsibility to top up her hot chocolate, prop her feet across his lap, and make sure that little Radia had everything she needed as well.
Radia had brought her entire Isadora Moon collection from home and was making a show of speed-reading her way through them under a blanket tent she’d constructed between two chair backs. There’s nothing like reading in public to bring out the performance in precocious types.
Harri couldn’t help sneaking peeks at the little family, so self-contained and protected as though they had a bubble of love around them. It was so unlike his own experiences growing up with his dad always occupied elsewhere with the conservatory business and always inclined to pick faults in him.
Jude Crawley was here too, having brought homemade iced gingerbread biscuits in the shape of open books. She was languidly turning the pages of a dog-eared copy of Persuasion with a look on her face that suggested this wasn’t her first time reading it; she wasn’t gripped so much as she was comforted and happy. Elliot, her long-haired, outrageously handsome and muscly husband, had his arm around the back of her chair, his EarPods in, reading an audiobook. Every now and then he’d absently stroke his hand down her hair and she’d squeeze his thick thigh. Such a power couple. This evening wasn’t doing anything for Harri’s nagging feeling of seriously missing out on life and love.
Closest to the door, Izaak and Leonid were lost in their books too. Izaak was nearing the end of a paperback titled Swimming in the Dark with a serious expression, and his husband was taking notes on his phone as he read an illustrated guide to rhododendron growing. They’d brought a huge poppyseed loaf cake sent from Izaak’s mother in Poland. Harri still had some of the seeds stuck in his teeth from the first slice and was considering a second, it was so delicious.
So what if he was trying to eat his feelings, as his mum would say? Anything felt better than being cheerfully, wilfully ignored by Annie and being forced to sit here in public feeling utterly skinless in complete silence.
Why wouldn’t she talk with him this morning? Ten minutes and they could have cleared the air, surely? Though, when he tried to rehearse what he wanted to say, he couldn’t quite find the words.
He tried to picture himself telling her how he’d not wanted to stop last night. He’d loved it, and he thought she’d been loving it too – if the way she’d scraped her nails through the short hair at the nape of his neck was a good indication of enjoyment. She’d whispered his name too, many times. He could hear it now, dammit! , breathy and frantic. His whole body answered the memory.
He fixed his eyes on the same paragraph. His face burned hot. Somebody was going to notice. That’s when Annie, stopping at a chapter’s end, turned her page and lifted her eyes to survey the room.
She’d seemed so proud of what she’d achieved tonight. She’d certainly motivated the whole community to turn out. Harri hadn’t met half the locals occupying every corner of the bookshop and there were a couple of holidaymakers in from the Siren too.
Harri could feel her eyes land upon him, but he couldn’t look back. He scratched his chin in a pretence of reading something fascinating. He narrowed his eyes and nodded as if to show his thoughts. Hmm, interesting , he tried to convey. He was overdoing it for sure.
That’s when Annie’s laugh burst into the silence. Harri couldn’t resist looking up. She’d thrown her hand to her lips.
‘Sorry,’ she whispered.
She didn’t drag her eyes away, but kept them fixed on Harri. She’d laughed at him and his ridiculous behaviour, and now Harri was grinning too.
The pair of them stayed like that, fixed on each other across the bowed heads in the bookshop, and sure some of the nosier locals were smirking in a knowing way at one another, but Harri didn’t care. He was telling Annie with his eyes that he liked her, and she was exploring his face in her familiar, frank way.
Waves of affection passed between them, and then the other feelings kicked in. He saw it in her lips parting. She was glazing over. She was remembering him touching her. And she still wasn’t looking away.
The bookshop disappeared around them and Harri knew she was thinking the same thing. Tonight, when everyone had left and William was safely conveyed back to his room at the Siren, upstairs in Annie’s big white bed they’d pick up where they left off and this time there’d be no stopping them.
Were her cheeks pinking up? Were her pupils dilating to pinpricks? His own had to be. The way she was staring and smiling told him so.
His heart was thumping, turning over hard and rhythmic like an engine. He was going to mouth the word at her. Tonight. He knew it would land how he wanted it to.
He hadn’t imagined any of it. They’d been incredible together. But as he wet his lips to silently convey the word, glancing surreptitiously round the room to be sure everyone else was reading, the phone in his pocket rang.
All eyes flew to him. Annie laughed again. She was enjoying his discomfort, no, she was sharing it, and it was kind of funny.
‘Oops, sorry you guys,’ he said, smiling goofily until he saw the name on the screen. Paisley .
He hadn’t meant to, but the look he threw Annie communicated everything. Her face fell as he pulled the phone to his ear.
‘Just a sec,’ he whispered down the line, and as quick as he could, he carried his conversation out into the dark courtyard leaving Annie watching him, crestfallen in her spot under the stairs, her eyes slowly dropping, falling back to her book, looking very much like a woman who knew she’d almost made a second huge mistake.