Chapter 28
Oliver has been in the bathroom for far too long. I woke up over an hour ago because I wanted to wash my hair before work, but he was already in there.
While I waited for him, I made myself a coffee, prepared some toast, and fed Lenny.
I even sat at the kitchen table with Lenny on my lap and reflected on our second night sharing a bed, which was quite pleasant.
As I thought back to one of our Coldplay debates, I felt a fluttering sensation in my chest, but I remembered my experiments yesterday and how my curse doesn’t work on Oliver. That put an end to the chest flutters.
I glance at the clock. He might be an oddity, but he is still in the bathroom. My agitation levels are rocketing. Is this his new routine?
I’m now standing with my ear pressed to the door. The shower isn’t on. What is he doing in there?
The bathroom door opens, making me yelp. I leap out of the way and flatten myself against the wall so there’s no way he can touch me.
He steps out in a grey robe. His hair is wet and flops over his face. He beams at me. ‘Morning.’
Half of me wants to forget the time he spent in the shower, while the other half wants to speak up. I am feeling prickly. The latter wins. ‘You were a long time in there.’
He grins. ‘I do my best thinking pre-conditioner.’
I blink a few times. ‘You’ve been in there all this time… thinking?’
He laughs and walks back to his bedroom.
I hope this is not a regular occurrence.
After showering and washing my hair, I get dressed, say goodbye to Lenny and grab my bag from the hallway. Seeing Mum’s vase back in its place on my little table makes me smile.
I hear Oliver shout, ‘Have a good day, Nelly.’ He follows this with, ‘I won’t sit in your chair today as I have my new beanbag.’
‘If you sit in my chair, you’re out.’ He shouldn’t have made me wait for the bathroom. I hear him chuckling from down the hallway, which, to my surprise, makes me smile.
The warm rays of a golden sun greet me as I step outside.
On my way to the bookshop, I grab a takeaway coffee, and I’m about to turn onto the cobbled street where Once Upon a Spine is located when I spot a white handkerchief on the small wall.
Someone must have found it and placed it there.
The cluster of pink embroidered flowers on one corner and the stitched initials, J.C.E.
, make me stop. That belongs to Mr Ellis.
The handkerchief belonged to his wife. He must be upset about losing this.
I pick it up and put it in my bag. When I get to work, I find his telephone number and call him. I don’t want him worrying.
‘Mr Ellis, it’s Nelly Blake from Once Upon a Spine bookshop.’
I hear a cough and a sneeze. ‘Hello, Nelly,’ croaks Mr Ellis. He sounds terrible.
‘You don’t sound well,’ I say.
He coughs again. ‘I’ve been poorly.’
‘I am ringing to say I’ve found your handkerchief.’
‘Oh, Nelly,’ he croaks. ‘I lost it yesterday on my way to the pharmacy, and I’ve had a sleepless night.’
‘Let me know your address and I’ll drop it over later.’
He erupts into a sneezing fit. After his sneezes have subsided, he provides me with his address and asks about the book.
I feel a twinge of guilt. Mr Ellis has been here several times, and I’ve been so absorbed in my curse and Oliver that I haven’t even started searching for it. I need to do something to help him.
‘I am going to find it, Mr Ellis.’
We say goodbye, and I get to work searching for it. The bookshop is quiet, and Miranda isn’t coming in until this afternoon, so I have time to hunt for Barbara Plum’s Family Cookbook.
It’s mid-afternoon, and I haven’t had any success. None of my usual contacts in the local second-hand bookstores carry a copy. I’m beginning to lose hope.
Besides searching for the book, I’ve also been courageously reaching out and touching as many people as I can. My list of those affected by my curse is long, yet Oliver remains the only person whose interactions cause it to malfunction.
The doorbell jangles, and in walks Sam and his new wife.
He grins at me as they head for the romance section and I watch as he places his hand on the small of her back, which makes her giggle.
My heart aches. That could have been me with him if he hadn’t have kissed her behind my back.
While his new wife browses the display table, he looks up at me and holds my gaze.
What does he want?
I need to ignore him.
Luckily, a woman asks me to find a copy of a travel book on Athens. After guiding her towards the travel section, I notice he’s still looking at me. His new wife is busy flicking through a book, unaware.
A familiar face appears at my counter and distracts me. It’s Rosie Flint, the author who came in here to do a talk on her book on magic, and it was her who gave me the bay leaf advice.
‘I saw you at the till and thought I’d pop in to see if the bay leaves worked for your friend… the one with the curse?’
I’m about to tell Rosie Flint the truth about how the bay leaves didn’t work, that my friend is still struggling with her curse, and she needs to rethink her magic advice, when Miranda rushes over to the counter. She arrived an hour ago looked flustered.
‘Rosie, I’m sorry to hear about your husband,’ she says. ‘How is he doing?’
Rosie smiles. ‘He’s still in the hospital, but we think he can come home in a few days. It’s been a stressful time for us all.’
‘I’m so pleased,’ says Miranda. ‘I did worry when I heard about his accident.’ She surveys the bags Rosie is carrying. ‘They look heavy.’
Rosie nods and drops the bags to the floor with a thud. ‘I’ve been sorting out his late mother’s house. She passed away a few months ago, and he’s been meaning to take things to the charity shop for weeks but never got round to it. I was at a loose end, so I thought I’d make a start.’
Sam is heading for the counter. Oh, God. ‘Can you help me find a book, Nelly?’ he asks.
Miranda gestures for me to help him as she’s busy talking to Rosie.
An uncomfortable feeling passes over me as he smiles, continuing, ‘I’ve forgotten where the psychology books are in here. Could you show me?’
I point to the far end of the shop. ‘On the back wall.’
He shakes his head. ‘Take me there.’ To my surprise, he leans closer and whispers, ‘I want to talk to you.’ He glances back at his wife, who has her back to us. She’s engrossed in the sports romance books on Miranda’s latest display table, which bears the sign Romances with hot, athletic people.
I’m sensing she isn’t aware of what he’s doing.
‘Hurry, Nelly, I don’t have much time. There are things I want to say.’
I blink at him, and he gestures for me to follow.
‘Come on,’ he whispers.
Reluctantly, I step out from behind the counter and, without looking where I’m going, fall over one of Rosie Flint’s charity bags. It tips over and spews its contents, a load of old books. ‘Sorry, Rosie, I’ll get them for you.’
I bend down to pick them up, and so does Sam.
‘I still find you attractive, Nelly,’ he whispers. ‘I’d love to see you… sometime.’
‘You’re married,’ I hiss.
He grins. ‘That’s never stopped anyone.’
I look at him, and something shifts inside me. I think about how much time I’ve wasted daydreaming about him. He will always be a cheat.
This is a helpful reminder to me that once you’re married, your other half can still think about straying while you have your head in a spicy romance about two horny ice skaters.
I’m about to tell him where he can shove his idea when I catch sight of an old cookbook within Rosie’s books.
My chest tightens as I see the name of Barbara Plum on the spine.
I grab it, clutching it to myself, my fingers curling around the worn cover.
This is a miracle. I had almost given up hope.
I can smell the vanilla-scented pages and faint trace of something baked with cinnamon long ago.
Mr Ellis will be overjoyed. The thought of seeing him happy makes my heart swell.
Sam is watching me, with a confused look.
He’s waiting for me to say something.
‘Sam, go back to your wife. I’m not interested in married men.’
I stand up and smile at Rosie. ‘Are you giving this book to charity?’
She nods. ‘It was his mother’s favourite. Why do you ask?’
Mr Ellis’s face appears in my mind. ‘I know someone who would love this.’
‘Be my guest,’ says Rosie. ‘I hope it gets a new home.’
Sam and his wife leave soon after, and I know he won’t be in here again. ‘Goodbye, Sam,’ I whisper, and to my surprise, there’s no ache inside my chest.