Chapter Twenty-three #2
Bri doesn’t deny it. ‘The fans are interested in what’s happening,’ she says. ‘Everyone loves a feel-good story.’ She hesitates. ‘And it will be best for Clarrie short term,’ she says, ‘if you look like you’re dating. Some people are a little angry at her.’
‘Could we just ignore the picture?’ I ask, trying to sound calm and reasonable about the whole thing and not to fixate on what people are saying, or on the unease thumping through my chest. ‘Surely if we don’t address it, it won’t affect the Behind the Books article?’
‘Probably not,’ says Bri, but she sounds doubtful. ‘But if you could do five minutes . . .’
‘Plus a lifetime on the internet,’ mutters Declan darkly.
‘I can do it,’ I say quietly, and Declan glances at me, his eyes unreadable.
‘Are you sure?’ he asks.
There’s no hint of mocking or challenge to the words; he’s not trying to goad me into it. I feel like if I say no that will be the end of it. It’s the freedom of feeling like that, as much as it is the possibility that Brooks’ might get more publicity, that has me nodding my head.
‘You have to convince them to credit Brooks’ at the bottom of the article,’ says Declan firmly. ‘And if we do this I’m not doing their posed photo shoot.’
Bri nods quickly; her relief visible. ‘I’ll sort that out,’ she says. Then she stops. ‘Thank you, both of you.’
She leads us over to the edge of the clearing, where Fiona and Ava are chatting quietly. The sky above them is heavy, and I find myself rather uncharitably hoping for a sudden burst of rain.
‘Fiona is thorough, but mostly nice,’ Declan says quietly as we near, his breath warm against my ear, and a tingle darts down my spine. I turn to look up at him and his face is too damn close.
‘I’ve spoken to her on the phone a few times already for the profile,’ he explains. ‘Are you sure you’re okay to do this?’ he asks. We’re close to Fiona and Ava now, so I can only nod.
‘Sorry about that,’ Bri says to Fiona as Ava hops up from the double bench to make room for Declan and I. Excellent .
I sit gingerly on the bench, trying to look like I sit on benches with Declan all the time.
He slides in beside me, so close that his leg rests against mine.
I haven’t dated anyone in the two years since Jamie and I broke up, and how do people who are dating even look?
Fiona watches the two of us, a pen resting lightly between her fingers.
‘Thanks for doing this,’ she says to me. ‘The best profiles are always the ones where we get an insight into the authors’ lives. Our audience love the stories behind the books.’
‘Happy to help,’ I say, my voice only a little raspy.
Declan shifts beside me, and a second later his fingertips brush mine on the bench.
For a heartbeat I think it’s an accident, but then he threads his fingers through mine as though, you know, we’re dating, and my stupid breath catches.
Totally normal. This is totally normal. It feels like every nerve has gathered at the points where our hands touch.
‘Can you tell me a bit about how the two of you met?’ asks Fiona, eyes flicking down to our joined hands.
I clear my throat, trying to ignore the tingling in my hand, in the pit of my stomach.
‘We met in the bookshop,’ says Declan succinctly. Fiona taps her pen against her notepad, like she’s waiting for more, and Bri clears her throat behind us. But Declan doesn’t elaborate, and I get the strangest sense that he’s trying to protect me.
‘Declan came in just after his first book came out,’ I say into the silence. Declan’s fingers tighten. He shifts slightly, his arm brushing against mine.
Gran always used to say, ‘In for a penny, in for a pound . ’
‘I was having a bad day, and we were having temporary issues with our power. Declan very kindly pointed out that we should perhaps look at getting it fixed, and in response I suggested that perhaps he might not have written his best book yet.’
Fiona uncrosses her legs and leans forward. ‘How did that go over?’ she asks.
‘I doubt either of us would describe it as our finest moment,’ says Declan dryly.
Fiona almost cracks a grin. ‘Fair enough. But obviously the two of you have a different relationship now. Can I ask when that happened? Was it before or after Talking to Trees came out?’
‘Before,’ says Declan.
‘After,’ I say at the same time.
Crap .
Fiona raises her eyebrows.
‘Declan counts from the time we first kissed,’ I blurt out.
Holy crap, what did I just say?
Declan coughs, and I hear the click of Ava’s camera.
‘That’s romantic of you, Declan,’ says Fiona.
I’m expecting Declan to come back with something cutting, or dry, but he doesn’t say anything, and I feel him turn to look at me. I don’t look back; I’m not sure I can meet his eyes. But the weight of his gaze is enough to make my ears hot and my palms damp.
From there the interview passes relatively smoothly, and I manage to answer the rest of the questions without dropping any more made-up bombshells into the conversation, and without pulling my much-too-hot hand away from Declan.
His description of Fiona as kind but thorough is surprisingly accurate.
By the time we reach the end of the interview, I am more than ready to be done.
‘Two more questions,’ says Fiona, and I almost sigh in relief, until she directs the first of the two to me. ‘What is it that makes Brooks’ special?’
It’s more focus on Brooks’ than I might have thought possible, and somewhere in my brain I register that it will be great for the bookshop if I have a good answer. Instead, the question makes me freeze. Gran was what made Brooks’ special.
‘Booksellers are like matchmakers,’ I say finally. My palms go damp again, but I don’t pull my hand from Declan’s. ‘The good ones can set you up for life.’ Gran was one of the best.
Fiona nods, and I know it will be enough to leave it at that, but then I think of Alex. Of his bookshop, and all the people who showed up last night to talk about a book together. Of Yumi and her bets with the customers. Of the kids who came in proudly dressed as sea creatures. Of Annabel Stone.
‘And the community,’ I blurt out, just as Fiona opens her mouth to ask the next question. ‘Our community is what makes Brooks’ special.’ I swear all the other sound in the clearing fades, and I feel heat rush to my face. Was that too much? I don’t know if I even answered her question.
But then Fiona smiles. ‘I look forward to visiting one day,’ she says. She leans forward.
‘Last question. Did he write a better book?’
Time pauses for half a beat. Declan squeezes my hand, so lightly that it might be an accident.
‘Excellent question,’ he says. ‘Did I write a better book, Clarrie?’
I do meet his eyes this time. He raises an eyebrow, his eyes bright with a wry amusement. And there’s something about the moment that makes my breath catch again.
‘I’ll tell you when I finish reading it,’ I say, and that side of Declan’s lip curves up.
Fiona chuckles, a low, warm sound. ‘I like that,’ she says. Then she pushes to her feet.
I slip my hand from Declan’s to shake hers. If she notices my palm is wet, she’s classy enough not to comment on it.
‘Thanks so much for your time today, Clarence. Declan, Brianna, I’ll be in touch.’
She tucks her glasses into her pink overalls and walks back across the field. The air feels cold on my palm, and I rub my fingers against it.
‘That was great,’ says Bri seriously when Fiona is out of earshot. ‘Thanks, Declan; thanks, Clarrie. I’ll follow up with Fiona to make sure they mention Brooks’.’
I nod, because it feels like all my words have been swallowed up by the interview, and by the heat in my hand. But before Bri can say anything further Jed arrives, his eyebrows furrowed.
‘Everything okay, Jed?’ Bri asks.
‘The double tent has fallen down,’ says Jed, and I see Bri and Declan straighten, the interview forgotten. But those words still feel like they’re thrumming along my skin, beating in my brain – What makes Brooks’ special?
‘Is it salvageable?’ asks Declan.
Jed shakes his head. ‘There were a couple of poles missing earlier and I thought I’d found a workaround, but it hasn’t worked around. Looks like you and I will be outside tonight.’
I force my attention to the present. I don’t know much about tents in general, but I do know we’ve only brought three – Bri and I were going to share the double, and then Jed and Declan have a single each.
The darkening night sky is heavy with clouds now.
Bri pulls out her phone and the bright light of the screen illuminates her face.
‘We can drive to the nearest hotel,’ she says.
‘It looks like there’s something about forty-five minutes away, but I can’t tell if there’s any vacancies.
’ She frowns at the screen, tapping like it might make the connection faster.
‘Otherwise, Clarrie and I could squish onto one mat in a single, and you two can share one? They’re big singles.
’ She looks at me for confirmation that I’m okay with that, and I nod.
The suggestion sits unobtrusively in the air for less than a breath.
‘We’ll be all right,’ says Jed. ‘You two take a single each. We’ve got the tarp. And it shouldn’t be more than a little damp – those clouds are all bark and no bite.’