Chapter 4
Sitting cross-legged on the floor contemplating paint samples, I spot Rory across the street.
He’s talking to a short, curvy woman with long hair and a blonde balayage wearing a black leather jacket and a wide smile.
They chat animatedly as they cross the road together.
The shop door is wide open, so their conversation filters into my shop as they approach.
I appear nonchalant, gazing at the samples, while casually eavesdropping.
‘Ah, come on, Rory, you haven’t said anything yet? It’ll all come out eventually, you know that,’ the woman says, nudging him playfully in the ribs.
‘Mind your own business.’ He ruffles her hair and she pushes him away. He continues, his voice dropping to a whisper, ‘But please, seriously, promise you won’t tell.’
I hear her sigh. ‘Your secrets are safe with me. However daft I think they are.’
‘Thank you,’ he says before he heads to The Toolbox. Instead of following him, she skips straight towards me to my surprise.
‘Ava Campbell?’ she says in a mock-serious tone, peering through the door.
‘Am I about to be sued or something?’ I squint, before I recognize the familiar face in front of me. ‘Oh my God! Donna?’
As I say her name tentatively, she throws her whole body into mine, while squealing at the top of her lungs. I find myself jumping up and down with her, joining in the squeal-fest.
‘Oh my God, I can’t believe you’re here!
’ She pulls back from the hug but keeps a tight hold of my arms, and grins widely at me.
A woman stands in front of me, but I can still see the girl I spent the summers playing with, her kind eyes and beautifully crooked smile.
‘Fuck, Ava, you’re just as gorgeous as you always were! ’
I hug Donna closer. I’ve missed this: a real friend. A live one.
‘Your hair is beautiful,’ I say, gripping her hand tightly so she can never leave. ‘And your tan! How long were you away for, six months?’
She grins as I pull her to sit beside me on the floor because I haven’t managed to source any chairs yet.
‘It felt like it! I couldn’t believe it when I heard you were moving back.
I wanted to be your welcoming party. I’ve been calling Dad every day for updates, though.
He’s been singing your praises – says you work like a Trojan. ’
‘Did he tell you about the—’
‘The first time you saw him and whacked him with your bag? He hasn’t stopped talking about it. Most interesting thing that’s happened to him in months! We know you London lot are tough as nails.’
I smile and offer up a little bow. ‘Glad to be of service.’
‘It’s nice for him to have anything to talk about, really.
Between you and me, he’s been struggling since my mum passed away at the end of last year.
’ Donna’s voice becomes small and quiet, even though there is no one around.
Her brown eyes flicker and I see the glisten of fresh tears under her false eyelashes.
‘Oh, I’m so sorry, Donna,’ I say, rubbing her arm.
I realize then how silly I must have sounded to Pete when I asked to try one of his wife’s caramel slices.
‘That’s awful. I didn’t know your dad was grieving.
He’s always so cheery. And your mum was – well, I know I didn’t know her that well, but I remember meeting her once or twice when we were younger. She was just lovely. I’m so sorry.’
‘Thank you. I know, Dad is trying his best to put a brave face on it. I was so worried about leaving him alone, even for this holiday. Then we heard you were moving in, so I sent him on a mission to check you out and report back. Imagine his delight when you assaulted him on day one! And now he keeps telling me how he’s walking about pretending you’re going to attack him again at any moment.
Sorry, he’s always thought himself to be a bit of a joker. ’
‘Ah well, it’s pretty funny,’ I say through only slightly gritted teeth.
‘I’m sorry about your granny, too, Ava. I know it was a long time ago now, but I never got to say it at the time. I thought you’d be back for the funeral but then we heard it was in England, and after that I kept thinking you’d be back the next summer, but…’
I let out a sigh. ‘You have no idea how much I wanted to come back then. But my dad sold the house and there was nowhere for me to stay.’
Donna leans over and throws her arm around me, pulling me in for another hug.
‘Well, you’re here now. And you’re opening a bookshop!
Why am I not surprised? You always had your nose in a book when we were younger!
I remember you even brought a book around the village with you in the basket of your bike.
Elle and I used to call you Matilda, you know. ’
‘Elle! How is she? Is she still around?’
I can still picture Donna’s and Elle’s baby faces.
Donna, with her long hair always styled to perfection, with an endless supply of sweets that she was more than happy to share with us.
Her best friend, Elle, had shorter dark hair, dazzling blue eyes, and could never resist throwing herself into a cartwheel or handstand. We became a summertime trio every year.
‘She moved to Edinburgh. She’s a hot-shot corporate lawyer there now, would you believe?’
‘Ah,’ I say. ‘Shame her gymnast dreams didn’t come to fruition, but I guess a lawyer is the next best thing. What about you, running your own salon? That’s amazing!’
Donna flicks her hair back over her shoulder and grins. ‘There was never really any doubt, was there? Eight years I’ve been open now. It was all I ever talked about! Remember I used to do your hair down at the beachfront, in between the cartwheels, dance moves and skimming stones?’
‘Yeah, and you’ve done it! Your very own business. I just hope I can follow in your glossy-haired footsteps and make this place a success too.’
‘You will. I can’t wait to see your plans coming to life.
’ She gazes around the empty shop and smiles.
‘Do you know what? I used to like reading. I read loads of romcoms until I went to high school and my teacher called them trashy. She said I should read the classics and then I might develop some taste. It put me off reading, to be honest. I’ve not read a book since. ’
I do some quick maths and resist the urge to gasp. Donna hasn’t read a book in over fifteen years. What a travesty.
‘Good news for you then,’ I say. ‘Because you have years of amazing books to catch up on.’
I disappear to locate my best romances, which are covered by a dust sheet in the corner of the room, and tug at One Day by David Nicholls. I hand it to her.
‘This will reignite the spark,’ I promise, with a knowing nod. ‘It’s got a bit of darkness to it, but it’s a gorgeous romance at the end of the day. You’ll love it.’
Donna mentions something about the Netflix series, but I don’t quite catch it. Her response is completely drowned out by a loud, shrill noise.
I frown. What the…
The noise stops for a moment before resuming again.
There’s no mistaking it. The Tool has a power tool; Rory is drilling next door. ‘Bloody Rory MacGregor.’
‘It must be good having Rory next door, right? He’ll have everything you could possibly need to get this place whipped into shape.’
I frown.
He obviously overheard my phone conversation about the delayed drill delivery and is now showing off with his big, stupid, shrill drill, rubbing it in my face. Screw him. Pardon the pun.
‘I’d like to get him whipped into shape,’ I say.
Donna grins. ‘Steady on!’
‘I don’t mean like that. He’s been a complete pain since I moved in. He’s been spouting all sorts of crap about me being a city girl who won’t last five minutes in Ullapool and how the village doesn’t need a bookstore.’
‘He did not say that,’ she says. ‘I’ll kill him.’
I continue to detail my run-ins with Rory – the assault with the plank of wood (my bad), the dumping of junk mail through my letterbox, the bincident – through the intermittent drill noises from next door.
‘Ach, Ava,’ she says after I’ve relayed Rory’s and my failed first impression.
And second and third and whatever number we are on now.
‘I’m sure it’s not as bad as that. You’ve just got off on the wrong foot.
Rory’s a sweetheart. He wanted this place for himself and is a sore loser, but he doesn’t hold a grudge, honestly. ’
As though right on cue, the drill noise takes on a higher pitched tone and I raise my eyebrows at Donna.
‘Everyone keeps telling me that he’s just so lovely and that I have the wrong end of the stick.’ I shake my head. ‘But I am definitely holding the correct end, I assure you. He hates me. And the feeling is mutual.’
‘He does not,’ she says emphatically. ‘And you don’t. How could you hate him? He’s a puppy dog! Just like Finlay, his best mate. Have you met him yet?’
‘No. Why? Please tell me he was third in line for my shop throne? I can’t afford to offend any more of the men of Ullapool.’
‘No, no. Finlay’s just… he’s a good friend of mine too.
He’s our local dog walker; he takes my beautiful Bonnie out for walks when I’m working.
’ Donna laughs, although I’m not sure why, her face flushing.
‘Anyway, Rory may be a bit put out, but he’s very loyal.
Once you have him as a friend, he’s yours for life. ’
‘And once you have him as an enemy?’ I arch my eyebrow. ‘I take it that follows the same premise. He hasn’t even come into my shop to say hello.’
‘You left his cleaning stuff outside the shop instead of saying thank you,’ Donna points out.
Damn Donna for being surprisingly good at recalling small details.
‘Ah, c’mon, Donna! I need you on my side here,’ I say. ‘He has a whole army of people here in this village. Mr Loyalty or Popularity or whatever. I’m sad and lonely and English – you’re my only real friend. Well, you and your dad. And Fiona, my coffee dealer.’
‘Of course I’m on your side!’ Donna promises. ‘But I do think you need to try a little with Rory. Once you’ve cracked him—’
‘Oh, I could crack him, alright…’
‘Give it a try. Just think, you could be nipping next door if you need something, rather than waiting for deliveries that don’t turn up.’
The noise of the drill pierces the silence as my head whips up. He’s only gone and drilled a hole right the way through the wall into my shop and straight through my Dusty Blue paint sample. My mouth falls open. Donna attempts to hide a little smile behind her hand and coughs to cover it up.
‘Excuse me!’ I say, advancing towards the tiny hole. I put my eye to it, peering through. ‘What do you think you’re doing?’
‘Ah, my mistake,’ Rory calls back. ‘Don’t worry, I’ll fix it up in no time.’
‘What if I had been walking past and you just drilled through the wall and hit me?’
‘What, as you slid casually along the wall?’
I ignore Donna’s muffled laugh behind me.
‘I should be able to do that if I want,’ I retort. ‘Without fear of being drilled to death.’
He doesn’t respond. I peer through the hole, wondering where he’s gone.
‘Rory? Rory!’ I call, but there is no response.
‘I’m sure he didn’t mean it,’ Donna says.
I frown and spin around as Rory enters the shop, all big, burly and bloody annoying.
‘Hey, again.’ He grins at Donna. ‘Did I mention you’ve got a great colour?’
Donna gives him a friendly slap on the arm. ‘You flatterer. This Highland skin doesn’t tan. This is courtesy of St Tropez.’
‘Coulda fooled me.’
My mouth falls open. Who is this guy, full of friendly chat, who is so nice? I certainly haven’t met him before.
‘Well, don’t mind me and the hole you just put in my wall.’ I glare at him, folding my arms across my chest. ‘I’ve got enough that needs fixing here. The last thing I need is new things to repair.’
‘I’ll sort it in no time,’ Rory assures me. Already swinging out the doorway, he adds, ‘Back in a minute.’
‘He will, you know. See, he’s a sweetheart,’ Donna says. ‘Anyway, I’ll leave you both to it. Pop over soon for a cut or colour? Although I wouldn’t want to do anything to that gorgeous auburn. We can have a good gossip. You can tell me all about making up with Rory.’
I want to say that she shouldn’t hold her breath, but she is clearly a founding member of the large Rory fan club in the village, so I refrain.
‘I do need a trim.’
‘Come any time,’ Donna calls over her shoulder as she crosses the road to her salon. ‘We can have a right good blether.’
Before any more holes are drilled into my wall, or anything else can distract me from my long list of tasks, I set to work tidying the shop.
I pull at the stepladders that I was using earlier to daub paint samples on the wall.
Folding them up, I place them on the floor, then turn around to pick up the paint tray.
Within seconds, a loud scraping noise, a short ‘waaaaahh’ and a loud thump vibrates around the room.
I spin around and there he is. Rory’s lying on the ground, clutching his ankle, his face scrunched into a tight grimace.
‘Where the hell did the ladders come from? Was that my punishment for drilling a hole in the wall?’
‘No. Although you were only drilling the hole to rub it in.’
‘Excuse me?’
‘You heard me saying outside that my drill hadn’t arrived. You were making the petty point that if I’d bought it from you, I would have one.’
It sounds ridiculous now I’m saying it out loud, but I’m not about to back down.
He frowns at me, then his ankle. As he tries to move, he grimaces. ‘I didn’t hear you say anything about a drill. And I was using my drill to fix some shelves. It had nothing to do with you.’
Moving towards him, I extend a hand to help him up from the ground. He glares up at me, and we lock eyes.
‘No thanks. We’re a disaster waiting to happen. First the wood, then the hole in the wall, now the ladders…’
He manages to pull himself upright on a nearby chair, without my help. Shit, what if he has broken it?
‘You’ll need to get it looked at,’ I say, with a pang of worry. ‘I’ll take you to the hospital.’
He shakes his head. ‘I’ll hop along to Dr Peters at the surgery and see what he says. It’s just at the end of the road.’ He stops and his lips curl. ‘But I’ve got a huge stock delivery coming that I need to be in for…’
‘I can wait in the shop for it?’ I offer, glad of the opportunity to make up for his terrible luck in my presence. ‘It’s no problem.’
‘No, don’t worry, I’ll just—’
‘Rory.’ I adopt a serious tone. ‘It’s not up for discussion. I’ll look after the shop and take in the delivery; you go and see the doctor. It’s my fault, with the ladders and all anyway. Let me help.’
‘Fine. Take my number, in case you need anything.’
‘I won’t. I can handle it.’
He ignores me, reeling off his phone number, which I tap into my phone.
‘You’re welcome,’ I mutter, as he hobbles out of the shop.