20
There’s a note on the coffee table when I get home.
Gone to dinner with Pat and Tim. Hope you had a good chat with Sarah. See you later, if you’re still up when I get back, x
I hate how my stomach dropped when I opened the door to find the place empty, reminding me that I won’t always see these notes on my table, or left on my pillow like the one from this morning:
early morning training, gone to do a few of those push-ups you love so much, ha, ha, x
I grab an apple from the fruit basket and climb the stairs to change into my pjs.
I need to wrap myself in cosy flannel and soft blankets before I think any more about Sarah’s advice and what I should do about it.
I pull the voile curtains to help keep out the cold October draught, then I gather my comfort supplies and sit on my bed, our bed, and think about what Flynn said while I was drooling over his half-naked body in that towel, that first week.
Seriously, Sullivan, you gotta toughen up. I know he was joking, but he did have a point.
I grab a sheet of paper from the spiral-bound notebook Flynn left on the locker, then I lean back against our mountain of pillows and bite into my apple.
I need a strategy, something with bullet points and recommendations highlighted in red.
I do this all the time at work and I do it well.
It’s time to apply that same focus to my own life, to get past the crazy fantasies I’ve been harbouring about Flynn, and to build more resilience to deal with the pain I can already feel coming for the next time he leaves.
I make up my mind. I’ll get ready for bed, write out my plan, then go downstairs and read while I wait for him to come home.
I’ll give him the general gist and ask what he thinks.
I need him to know that I’m not another Meghan.
All I’m asking for is the chance to get this crush out of my system.
And if that kiss is anything to go by, he might appreciate the same.
And then we can put it behind us and go back to being friends.
It’s pitch-dark when I wake later. I forgot I’d turned off the light to rest my eyes. I reach for the bedside lamp and flick it on to find Flynn standing by the bed wearing nothing but a pair of navy-blue boxers and a lopsided smile.
‘Hey, sorry, didn’t mean to wake you.’
‘S’okay, what time is it?’
‘About midnight, I think.’ He drops down on the edge of the bed. ‘We had dinner and got talking, and Pat opened a bottle of whiskey, and, well . . .’ He lets out a low chortle. ‘You can guess the rest.’
‘I think I can.’
I laugh lightly. Clearly, he’s tipsy. He’s forgotten he wears clothes to bed now. I pat the duvet. ‘Flynn, come to bed.’
Feck, that didn’t come out quite the way I meant it.
‘Is that an invitation, Sullivan?’ He winks at me, and he looks so damn gorgeous, I almost say maybe. But I can’t. He’s had too much to drink, and I want us to talk things through properly before we do anything either of us might regret.
I smile and shake my head. ‘No, it’s not.’
He climbs under the duvet, right over by the edge, like he always does when he gets in first. He rubs at his eyes, and the soft light casts a glow over his freckled cheekbones, and he looks so boyish and beautiful that I’m close to losing all resolve.
Then he reaches to turn off the lamp, and my heart leaps out of my chest as I see his fingers land on the sheet of paper I dropped on the locker before I drifted off.
‘Flynn, no!’
Oh God, no, please, please don’t let him read my ten-point plan with step-by-step bullet points of exactly what I need to do to get my horny, erotic fantasies out of my system for good.
He leaves the light on and sits up straight, holding my notepaper in his hands.
‘I don’t remember writing . . . Huh?’
He holds the sheet out in front of him like a hand grenade and stares at the large black caps scrawled across the stark white page:
Shag Flynn Asap
Oh shit. I forgot I decided my plan needed a title, something snappy to encapsulate the main thrust of the argument (there was a lot of thrusting in those fantasies, to be fair).
Please don’t turn the page, please don’t turn the page, I say over and over in my head.
Although, I’m not sure that could make it any worse, Flynn looks shell-shocked as it is.
I grab the notepaper out of his hand and fling it on the floor by my side of the bed. ‘It’s nothing, Sarah and I were messing earlier about making a plan. It’s just a joke.’
‘A joke?’ He blinks at me. ‘You think the idea of being with me is a joke?’ He frowns. ‘Was our kiss really that bad?’
‘No, God no, Flynn. I’m not explaining this right. I can’t explain, not now. You’ve had more than a few drinks and I’m half asleep. I need us both sober and thinking straight before I can talk to you about this.’
‘About what?’ He scrunches his face. ‘What is it you want to talk about?’
‘About us shagging, that’s what.’ I ignore his wide-eyed shock and shove a pillow down the middle of the bed before I reach over him and turn off the lamp. ‘But we can’t talk about this now. We can talk tomorrow evening when I get home.’ I pull the duvet firmly up to my chin.
‘And that kiss was fantastic by the way.’ I smile softly to myself as I picture it. ‘Now close your eyes, go to sleep, and stay over on your side. Please.’
Flynn’s sound asleep when I leave for work and I’m grateful. I’m not a morning grump but I need a shot of caffeine before I can think straight, and I barely have time to grab that before I dash out the door.
There’s a lot to talk about, so I’d rather wait until we’re chilled on the couch with a bottle of wine at the ready before I broach the subject of my shag Flynn asap plan that I blindsided him with last night.
Besides, I’ve a jam-packed day ahead, and a meeting after work with Finbarr and Gertrude about the festival, and Finbarr’s just sent a text to say Pat will be joining us too.
I’m not late but Gertrude’s in ahead of me, and I stroll through the automatic doors to find her admiring the colourful garlands adorning the pillars on either side of the desk.
The knit and crochet group have put their all into this project and now that everything’s in place it’s like they’ve crocheted an autumn forest in here.
‘Looks good, doesn’t it?’ I say, and she smiles.
‘It certainly does. And I went through the monthly stats yesterday and they look good too. Our book issues are well up. And that revamp you did of the craft section has paid off. Loans have doubled.’
The day passes in a whirlwind with three class visits before lunch, and Ella and I spend most of the afternoon putting the place back together while Gertrude talks Dracula with her book club in the meeting room upstairs.
I wave the last of our customers out at half past five, and two minutes later the doors whoosh open and Finbarr and Pat stroll in, looking chilled out and pleased with themselves.
Well, Pat looks chilled and Finbarr looks pleased, and I have high hopes for getting this meeting wrapped up fast so I can head home.
‘You look well, Pat,’ I say as I lock the doors behind them. ‘Did you and Tim have a good holiday?’
They’re officially a couple now. Flynn told me that Pat moved into Tim’s before they went on their trip, and Pat plans to buy them an apartment in Spain for the winter so they can share more sunny holidays like the one they’ve just been on. He looks happy, and I’m happy for them.
‘The best, girl.’ He beams at me and I grin back.
Pat’s been calling me girl for as long as I’ve known him and I’d never take offence.
It’s all in the tone, warm and affectionate, and protective too, since Dad died.
Not at all the same girl that Moll and Barty practically spit at me whenever they storm in with their latest gripe.
‘Pat has good news.’ Finbarr puffs out his chest, in full peacock mode.
‘Why don’t we let Gracie sit down first.’ Pat rolls his eyes.
I could seriously do with sitting down. I feel like I’ve run a marathon today and weightlifted hundreds of books. I make a mental note to put at least one new library assistant at the top of my agenda for my meeting with Gemma next week.
‘Gertrude’s upstairs in the meeting room,’ I tell them. ‘And I’m sure she has the kettle on. Do ye want to come on up?’
‘Now will you tell them,’ Finbarr huffs as soon as I’ve taken my first sip of hot milky tea.
Pat leans back in his chair and rolls his cigarette paper lazily with his fingertips.
And it amazes me again how these two are still friends.
How you can disagree with someone on so much minor stuff, ignore so many sharp corners and cracks in the pavement, if you’ve both shared the same ground since the year you were born, and you both want only the best for the place.
‘You’ll be getting your new library extension.’ Pat leans forward, elbows on the table, holding out his perfectly formed rollie. ‘At least, I hope so. I’ve done my bit, signed all the papers. It’s up to Gemma and the council now to do the rest.’
‘You’re selling to the council.’ Gertrude leaps from her chair and bounces on the balls of her feet.
‘You’re not selling to a plastics factory.
Oh my, oh my.’ She pats her cheeks and sways back and forth, and I think she might be about to dash over and embrace Pat, but Finbarr wraps an arm around her shoulder and eases her back into her chair.
‘In fairness, we never did really believe that one.’ He drops a kiss onto the top of her head, the first public display of affection I’ve seen from Finbarr ever, but I guess he knows how much this means to her, and how special it must be to hear the news while she’s still at the helm.
Although, it must sting that she won’t be the one seeing it through.
Gertrude turns to me and smiles. ‘And you’ll do a wonderful job making the most of it, dear. You’ll get your promotion, I’m sure of it, and you can finally have the library I know you’ve always dreamed of.’
I nod and do my best to look as pleased as I should be at the news.
‘Are you okay, Gracie? You look a bit pale.’ Pat gives my arm a gentle squeeze. ‘I know it’s a lot to take in but this is what you’ve been hoping for. Isn’t it?’
‘Of course, of course.’ I lean over and return the arm squeeze.
‘Thank you so much.’ I breathe deep and try to arrange my face to read grateful and excited and all the things I should be feeling at hearing the news I’ve been dreaming about for so long.
But something cold dropped in my stomach when Pat made his announcement, and now it’s sitting there like a stone.
Not the small, smooth stones that Flynn and I skim across the water.
More like a heavy grey boulder that’s threatening to drag me to the depths of a deep, murky lake.
Pat’s selling. Flynn’s going home. Pat’s selling. Flynn’s going home, the same thoughts dragging me under again and again. I didn’t even realise I was still holding onto hope.
But if Pat’s selling his shop rather than signing it over to Flynn, that must mean Flynn doesn’t see a future here in Oakwood. He must have persuaded Pat to sell after all.
‘Don’t thank me,’ Pat says. ‘Thank Flynn. He was the one who persuaded me that my mother wouldn’t turn in her grave at the idea of me selling the property to the council. I forgot how much she loved her books, and she was always a great supporter of the library.’
He taps the table decisively. ‘Flynn’s right.
This is the best possible option. And now Tim and I will have somewhere warm to go in the winter.
’ He sighs. ‘My poor mother was crippled with arthritis before she died, so I think she’d understand me selling a part of my inheritance to get a bit of heat into these old bones. ’
We nod, and Gertrude hold outs her plate of chocolate chip cookies as a thank you.
‘Sorry, but I have to go.’ Pat pushes back his chair. ‘I need to check in on that nephew of mine. He’s been all week in the shop, scrubbing and painting and getting the place clean. He’ll have himself worn out if I don’t call in and remind him to take a break.’
He tucks his rollie behind his ear and stands to leave.
‘Now, before I go, not a word about this to anyone, please, at least not until you talk to Gemma next week. I promised her I’d let her handle any announcements, and she’ll fill you in on the details.
But I know ye’ve been worrying and that’s partly my fault, so I wanted to ease your minds. ’
He zips his fingers across his mouth to remind us again. ‘Not a word, promise. Flynn knows too, I’ve just told him, but apart from that, this stays between the three of us.’ We all nod in agreement and Finbarr follows Pat downstairs to lock the door behind him.
Gertrude stands, and she looks ready to hug me, but I can’t seem to lift myself off this chair.
She pats my shoulder instead. ‘Is it the promotion you’re worried about, Gracie?
Because you don’t need to. You’ll sail through that interview, I know you will.
’ She tilts her head. ‘It must be a shock, but when it all sinks in, you’ll be over the moon.
’ She smiles fondly and I do my best to smile back, though I don’t feel very smiley.
I don’t honestly know how I feel except maybe a bit numb.
‘Flynn persuaded him,’ I say, as much to myself as to Gertrude.
‘Flynn told him to sell.’ I don’t add instead of signing over to him.
That was private between Pat and Flynn. And me and Sarah, I guess.
There’s no point telling anyone that Flynn could have stayed.
Could have opened his own garden centre, like the place he loves working at back in Cricket Falls.
There’s no point thinking about it, if he’s already made up his mind that’s not what he wants.
‘Well, that doesn’t surprise me in the least, dear,’ Gertrude says cheerfully. ‘Even when you used to come in here as teenagers, that boy would do anything for you. And from what I’ve seen since he came back, he still would.’