Chapter Twelve
Gage tore off his tie and tossed it on the bed. This was a casual Sunday lunch with his family, not a job interview. So why did it feel more like the latter?
‘Paul is here.’ Tamara popped her head in around the door.
The walk to Becky’s house would’ve given him time to clear his mind, but that wasn’t an option on crutches. Even if he surpassed the doc’s predictions, it would be nothing short of a miracle if he could manage without them by the shop’s opening day next weekend.
‘You look as though you’re going to your execution. Chin up, and smile. Don’t forget these.’ Tamara thrust a bunch of red roses wrapped in gold tissue paper at him.
Paul gave a wry smile. ‘The wife likes a flower. She’s always complaining I never buy any.’
Gage appreciated the support. The poor man kept tugging at his white shirt collar.
Paul was squeezed into a dark-grey suit that probably hadn’t seen the light of day since the last wedding or funeral he’d been forced to attend.
The garish red tie dotted with hearts could’ve been a Father’s Day gift and worn to please his children.
Maybe it was just as well things had worked out as they had with his ex-wife, because what did he know about being a good dad anyway? Sod all.
‘We’d better get a move on, lad. Becky will have my guts for garters if we’re late and her Yorkshire puds sink.’
‘We can’t have that.’
Out in the van, Gage wasn’t sure whether to raise the subject of his parentage, but in the end fell back on the classic English conversation stalwart and commented on the nice weather.
‘Make the most of it. We’re supposed to have rain by Tuesday. Typical. Our Daniel’s got footie in the evening and the parking over Polcren is in a field. Last time the van got stuck.’ He nodded as they drove past the bookshop. ‘Coming on all right, is it?’
‘Yeah. Tamara’s been a great help.’
‘So I heard.’
The butterflies started fluttering again in Gage’s stomach as they turned onto Wesley Lane and pulled into the driveway of number nineteen.
Paul clambered out and jogged around to open Gage’s door. ‘Leave the flowers on the dash and hand me the crutches.’
A petite blonde whirlwind raced out of the house. ‘Yay, I got here first. Uncle Gage, I’m Lily.’ She flashed a smile brightened by a mouthful of metal braces.
‘My youngest. She’s thirteen going on thirty aren’t you, my handsome?’
‘Mum’s in a proper tizzy because the gravy’s gone lumpy.
Ollie’s sulking in his room because she said he’s got to eat his dinner with us instead of going to McDonald’s with his friends.
’ She turned back to the house, screwed up her face and stuck out her tongue.
‘Emily’s hiding behind the curtains to spy on us.
She pretends to be cool, but she’s as made up as the rest of us. ’ Lily hooted with laughter.
He’d have to pretend to be surprised when he met Emily again. ‘Well, I can’t wait to meet you all. It’s not every day a man acquires an instant family.’ Gage held the flowers out to her. ‘These are for your mum. Would you mind taking them?’
‘No probs.’ She grabbed them and sprinted back to the house.
He caught sight of Paul’s relieved expression, as if the other man hadn’t been sure whether this would work out. Gage hadn’t been certain either. But now? He had the idea it might be okay, or with luck maybe a darn sight more than okay.
* * *
Being alone in the bookshop was a new experience for Tamara.
She wasn’t helping with Sunday lunches at the pub these days and had ignored Gage’s plea for her to take the day off and join him and Becky’s family.
After Friday’s Halloween party, things had shifted yet again with Gage.
The frisson of attraction sizzled hotter than ever, making living in the same house even more of a challenge — but their friendship had deepened too.
They’d had a great time swapping stories and jokes while they worked.
A man without a sense of humour wasn’t worth having, in her opinion, and his was witty, dry and more than a little dark — very similar to her own.
The only fly in the ointment was Toby. All she could hope was that when he’d calmed down and asked around about Gage, he’d hear only good things.
Tamara wandered outside to take a look at the window.
They needed to get cracking with decorating it for Christmas, so customers were tempted to buy their presents here rather than ordering online or going to the larger, fancier bookshop in Truro.
Mariah Carey’s ubiquitous Christmas hit ‘All I Want for Christmas is You’ came to mind.
Replace ‘you’ with ‘books’ and they’d have the perfect theme.
Perhaps they could do some sort of fireplace scene with Father Christmas reading?
The sound of approaching footsteps made her turn.
‘Oh, hi, Melissa. Are you out for a walk while Nathan cooks? You’ve got it made.
’ It was a standing joke that Melissa’s husband banned his American wife from the kitchen on Sundays.
After years of bachelorhood, he knew all the tricks of making a proper Sunday roast. Tamara would never say this in front of Rocky, or Pixie, but having sampled Nathan’s golden-brown crispy potatoes and superb mile-high Yorkshire puddings, she thought they even put the pub’s excellent ones to shame.
‘Yeah, I have.’ She sounded wistful.
‘What’s up? Something’s wrong, isn’t it?’
‘Why would you say that?’
‘Oh, come on. Your eyes are red like you’ve been crying and your make-up is smudged.’ She glanced down. ‘Plus, you’re wearing odd shoes. Very odd shoes.’
‘Am I?’ Melissa looked shocked to see a black ballet flat on her left foot and the right one sporting a bright-red sneaker. ‘I guess I ran out in a hurry.’
‘Why?’
Her friend’s face crumpled and tears oozed out of her swollen eyes.
‘Let’s go inside,’ Tamara said. ‘Before someone else spots us and you race to the top of Penworthal’s gossip list. You definitely don’t want that. Trust me. Been there, done that.’
‘Yeah, me too. It wasn’t pretty.’ Melissa grimaced.
Neither spoke for a moment, remembering the time when her friend’s financial problems, caused by her late husband’s recklessness with money, had become village news.
‘Come on.’
‘What about Gage? I can’t—’
‘He’s not here.’ Her swift explanation erased a couple of Melissa’s worry lines. ‘I’ll stick the kettle on. I’m ready to take a break anyway.’
‘Oh, wow isn’t this gorgeous?’ Melissa had followed her in and now gazed around with wide eyes. ‘I can’t believe how much you’ve achieved in such a short time, especially with Gage’s bad knee.’
‘We work well together.’
They’d developed a seamless system where she did the heavy lifting and stacked books on the higher shelves, while he sat on a rolling chair and wheeled himself around to do the lower ones.
‘It’s more than that, though, isn’t it? Your eyes sparkle talking about him.’
‘It’s early days.’ Sharing this newfound joy with even one of her best friends could be tempting fate. ‘This isn’t why we came in, is it?’ She gently eased Melissa away from the temptation of the books on the shelves and pushed open the swing door to the kitchen.
‘I’d no idea all this was here.’
The large rectangular room with its industrial-sized stainless-steel appliances had shocked her too when she’d first seen it. ‘The shop’s been a lot of things in its time, but the last was a café that closed shortly before you moved here.’
‘One day you’ll talk Gage around and we’ll see your famous cakes on sale. No one would make their own Christmas cakes or mince pies if they could buy yours instead.’
‘Maybe. Sit down while I stick the kettle on and tell me what’s got you all upset.’
After making their drinks, she raided the emergency stash for a packet of chocolate digestives.
‘It’s nothing really.’
‘Don’t talk rubbish.’ Tamara scoffed. ‘Out with it.’
‘My youngest brother, Bryan, called me late yesterday and he was over the moon with excitement. He and his wife, Sue Ann, are expecting their first baby next June. I’m happy for them of course and managed to say so, enough to fool them, I think, and hopefully Nathan too, but they’ve only been married five minutes.
’ Melissa’s voice broke. ‘Last month I was five days late and hoped against hope that we might be in luck.’
Tamara covered her friend’s hand and gave it a squeeze. ‘I’m sorry. That’s tough.’
Pointing out that a smart man like Nathan would soon realise something was wrong, if he hadn’t already, wouldn’t help.
Their book group was close, but some topics were too private even to lay in front of good friends.
It’d been the case with Laura, whose numerous miscarriages had led her to desperate measures and almost destroyed her marriage in the process.
Despite the promises they made to be more open with each other, they all kept secrets.
‘I won’t be offended if you tell me to mind my own business, but I assume you’ve both been to the doctor?’
‘Oh, yeah. Loads of them.’ Her cheeks pinkened.
‘We’ve had every godawful test you can imagine and there’s nothing officially wrong with either of us.
’ She reduced her biscuit to crumbs with her fingers.
‘I try to be philosophical and accept it probably won’t happen now, but then I see little Josephine and .
. .’ Melissa crumpled and her distress filled the room.
‘Have you thought about adoption or fostering? What about IVF?’
‘Yeah, of course I’ve thought about all those things, but I shut Nathan down when he dared raise the subject. To my mind, it’s admitting we’ve given up. Stupid, I suppose, but there it is.’
She could make a dozen different arguments to the contrary, but Melissa’s realisation needed to come at the right time for her and in the right way.
‘Do you know what I dread most?’ Melissa’s shoulders drooped. ‘Maybe I shouldn’t say this to you of all people, because it’s horribly mean, but I worry how I’ll react if Chloe gets pregnant.’
Tamara almost choked on her coffee. ‘I’m not ready to be a grandmother so I hope that’s not anytime soon.
They aren’t in a position yet to . . .’ Was this how her parents had felt all those years ago?
And at least Chloe and Toby’s partnership was loving and equal, unlike her and Fred’s one-sided romance that had never stood a chance.
‘I don’t see Nathan as great-uncle material yet either. He’s too—’
‘Hot?’
‘Not the word I’d use unless I want you ripping my eyes out.
’ Nathan’s title as Penworthal’s hottest and most confirmed bachelor had flown out of the window when he had been whisked, very willingly, down the aisle by Melissa.
‘But seriously, you’re too nice to be anything but lovely if that happens one day.
It might hurt a bit, but you wouldn’t take it out on them or the baby. ’
‘I hope you’re right.’ Melissa’s smile inched back. ‘I feel much better for talking to you.’
Now they both had tears in their eyes. Her developing relationship with Gage was lifting her spirits, but she’d never make the mistake of abandoning her friends.
‘Let’s lighten the mood for a minute,’ said Melissa. ‘I hear Gage and Evelyn are pretty friendly these days, so have you heard anything about what’s going on at Shangri-La?’
‘You tell me. He turned into a clam when I tried to probe.’
‘Nathan’s the same about Quinten. They’ve met for a pint a couple of times — well away from here — but he won’t spill the beans either. He gets all pompous and starchy — a bit like I imagine his father was.’
‘That describes old Mr Kellow perfectly.’
Melissa coloured. ‘I know I’m being unfair because if Nathan wasn’t honourable and trustworthy, I would never have fallen in love with him.’
‘That’s true — but we’d still like to know, wouldn’t we?’ Tamara gave a sly smile.
‘Are you through with your coffee? I know I am.’ Neither had taken more than a couple of sips. ‘I should’ve warned you it was Vernon’s half-price special last week.’ Tamara dumped the dregs in the sink and rinsed the mugs out, leaving them on the dish rack to dry. ‘Do you want another look around?’
For the next few minutes, she watched Melissa behave like a little kid in a sweet shop, oohing and aahing at the enticing way they’d arranged the different sections.
The stunning floor-to-ceiling maple-wood bookcases around the walls housed the used books. It’d been an insight into Gage’s mind, when they’d been sorting these out, to see the changes to his reading and buying tastes over the years.
The smaller shelves that ringed the centre of the space featured new books, curated with advice from the independent booksellers’ group he belonged to. To her mind it was the perfect combination of old and new, both in the stock available and the chosen décor.
An old manual till sat on the counter. She’d bought it at a car-boot sale, purely because it appealed to her, but it had sat in the attic until finding its new home here. The fancy modern one next to it would actually be used for sales.
Whipping out her phone, Melissa took pictures of all the books she planned to buy when Gage opened on Saturday.
Miraculously, her normal wide, infectious smile had returned to full strength, and there was a distinct spring in her step.
Tamara couldn’t help thinking that people who insisted books weren’t important were deluded.
They were missing out on one of the simplest mood-lifters, with the bonus they were calorie-free and with no artificial stimulants.
‘There’s only one thing missing. You need comfy chairs scattered around to tempt customers to sit down and get so into the lovely books they won’t be able to leave them here.’
‘We’re on it. If all goes well, that’ll be put right on Wednesday.
’ Tamara explained about the estate sale they were targeting near Tintagel.
Gage was in full agreement that new chairs wouldn’t fit the cosy atmosphere he was determined to create.
‘Think squishy. Comfy. Mismatched. Vintage. We need small tables too, for people to set their books down.’
‘And teacups when you get the café going.’
Tamara ignored the last remark and suggested Melissa might want to head off unless she wanted Nathan on the warpath.
‘Thanks again for everything. I feel it in my bones, by this time next year, you and Gage will be all loved up, and we’ll have winkled Evelyn’s annoying sister out so she and Quinten can have their happy-ever-after too.’
‘You read too many romances, Melissa Kellow.’ Tamara shooed her friend out and closed the shop door with a wistful sigh.