Chapter Twenty
Why was the aroma of books so intoxicating? Tamara held Richard Osman’s latest bestseller up to her nose and sniffed.
‘You’re as weird as Uncle Gage.’
Emily’s caustic comment made her smile. It must be hard-wired in children that overnight, on their thirteenth birthday, they acquired the knack of sardonic disdain for all adults.
‘I caught him fondling one of those grubby old books about some battle everyone else has forgotten about. Talk about creepy.’
The girl had determined that working in a bookshop demanded that she dress all in black, and wander around quoting poetry at random moments. Echoes of Virginia Woolf.
‘Have you restocked the biography section?’ asked Tamara.
Much to Gage’s bewilderment, books about pop-culture celebrities were hugely popular as Christmas presents so there was another order from the wholesalers to shelve.
After the first week of officially working with Gage full time rather than juggling it with her old commitments at the pub, Tamara’s spirits were sky-high.
Despite a few misgivings, she’d agreed to his suggestion that they use her ceramic pig collection as the focal point of the proposed café.
Georgie was lined up to build display shelves in the same rich maple wood as the bookcases to show them off.
Tamara still wondered if some customers might be put off by some of the negative connotations surrounding pigs, so that was the main reason why the café’s name was still up for debate.
It sent Emily off in a huff when her suggestion of ‘Babe’s Bakery’ was turned down.
The girl had thought it the perfect nod to the famous pig from Dick King-Smith’s 1983 novel The Sheep-Pig, but Tamara envisioned them trending on social media for all the wrong reasons.
The only fly in the ointment came every time she glanced across the road at the pub. Last night she’d been a coward and insisted Gage went to the pub quiz on his own while she’d bailed out with a fictitious headache.
‘Yeah, and I’ve updated our Instagram and TikTok feeds.’ Emily shuffled her feet and didn’t quite meet Tamara’s eyes. ‘Any chance I can leave a bit early today?’
Despite the fact Emily was officially an adult, Gage took his responsibilities towards his niece seriously. If he were here, he’d be quizzing Emily about where she was going and with whom. But he wasn’t, and wouldn’t be back until after closing time.
The ever-patient man had taken the van and driven to Redruth to pick up a set of two dozen pale-pink plastic chairs, steel-framed with tubular legs, which she’d bought online.
They were cheap knockoffs of the famous Eames chairs from the 1960s and would fit perfectly with the slightly kitsch style she had in mind for the café.
‘I don’t see why not.’
‘Cheers. I’m getting the bus to Truro and meeting a friend.’
‘That’s fine. Why don’t you run along now? We won’t get many more customers. I can manage.’
‘You’re the best. Cheers. See you next Saturday.’ Emily’s smile filled the room, the cool teenage front momentarily forgotten.
The girl’s dark ponytail swung in time to her excited, bouncy stride as she hurried out of the shop.
Tamara smiled to herself as she tweaked the Christmas book display before standing back to survey it.
She jerked around as the shop bell jangled, and tried not to gawp.
The stunning redhead who strutted in looked familiar, but she couldn’t think why.
Dressed as if she’d stepped off a catwalk, the woman’s cream wool dress fitted like a second skin, emphasising her jutting hip bones and Bambi-like legs.
‘Is GG around?’
The upper-class drawl put her teeth on edge.
‘GG?’
‘Gage. Or maybe you call him Mr Bennet? Her languid stance contrasted with cold blue eyes that darted around, sizing everything up, including Tamara.
‘He’s not here at the moment. Can I help?’
‘It’s personal. Private.’
The air of dismissiveness irked her and she considered putting the stranger right about her own relationship with Gage.
‘If you’d care to leave a message with your name and contact details, I’ll pass them on when he gets back later.’
‘My name?’ That seemed to amuse her. ‘GG knows that, and where to contact me. You can say Victoria popped in to return his call.’ In a cloud of expensive perfume, she swanned out of the shop.
The penny dropped. Victoria was Tori G. The face of a dozen iconic brands, and so well-known that Tamara could kick herself for not recognising her immediately.
Her reaction wasn’t a million miles from William Thacker’s to the famous Anna Scott when she’d dropped into his Notting Hill bookshop.
Even the idea of Gage knowing Tori G was bizarre.
Like an odd jigsaw piece from a totally different puzzle, nothing about it fitted.
It’d be interesting to hear him explain this away later.
* * *
Humming to himself, Gage parked the van and almost sprang out.
He couldn’t wait to show Tamara the chairs, along with a surprise that should make her smile even brighter.
The owner had forgotten to include the matching tables in the advert, but had offered them at a knockdown price when he’d arrived.
‘Sorry it took me a while but the A30 was backed up around Truro.’ Gage breezed into the shop. ‘People have started Christmas shopping already, I suppose.’
Tamara stopped in the middle of straightening books, but stayed where she was instead of rushing to him.
It was childish for him to feel a niggle of disappointment.
As Melissa said the other night, they weren’t teenagers with their first crush, but regular middle-aged people. He went to her instead. No matter.
‘Has it been busy while I was gone?’ Gage wrapped his arms around her and breathed in her soft, warm scent. The wonderful sensation of coming home overwhelmed him. For too many years that hadn’t been a feature in his life, which was why he treasured it so much now.
At the last second, Tamara turned so his kiss missed her mouth and landed awkwardly on her jaw.
‘Is something wrong?’ He stepped back. ‘Where’s Ems?’
‘She asked to leave early to go meet a friend. I couldn’t see any harm letting her go.’
Why did she sound so defensive? ‘That’s fine. Are you okay? You seem a bit—’
‘I’m tired, that’s all.’ She pushed a loose strand of hair away from her face. ‘Before I forget, you had a visitor. I’m supposed to tell you that Victoria — or Tori G, as she’s better known — popped in to return your call.’
He spluttered and turned bright red. ‘Bloody hell. She came here? I told her not to.’
‘How do you even know . . .’ The blood drained from Tamara’s face. ‘Don’t tell me she—’
‘Yeah, she’s the Victoria I mentioned. My ex-wife. I know it’s unbelievable.’ He crammed his hands in his pockets. ‘She went through a stage of imagining herself as a regular person instead of a top model. I should’ve told you the other night.’
‘Yes, you should’ve done.’ There was an unmistakable edge to her voice.
He couldn’t blame her for being annoyed because right now he could kick himself for not being totally honest.
‘So why’s she here now?’
‘I don’t know. Not really, I . . . look, let’s get the van unloaded, then we’ll close the shop early and go upstairs for a chat.’
‘Fine.’ Tamara’s tone and her sardonic smile told him it was anything but fine.
They worked silently until all the chairs were in.
‘Hang on.’ He leaned into the van and whipped off the old blanket the man had given him to protect the tables on the drive home. ‘Call these an early Christmas present if you like. They match the—’
‘OMG, they’re perfect!’ Tamara dragged the first one forward and together they lifted it out onto the pavement.
‘You’re such a thoughtful man.’ She flung her arms around his neck, but swiftly let go.
‘How could you not tell me you were married to that . . . glamorous creature? I suppose now you’re the one slumming it with me. ’
Gage had experienced the same gnawing at his self-confidence when he and Victoria had been together.
He shook his head dismissively, then reached for one end of the table and nodded for her to pick up the other.
They stacked the new furniture at one end of the kitchen before balancing the till and putting the money in the safe.
After their chat the other night, he’d done a whole lot more thinking.
He’d almost decided to throw caution to the wind and tell Tamara how he really felt about her.
Trust his ex-wife to screw things up for him again.
* * *
‘Now I totally get why you said your ex-wife dazzled you,’ Tamara blurted out.
By the time they’d walked up the stairs and sat down, she’d almost convinced herself to deal with the bizarre discovery rationally and reasonably. In truth, she was eaten up with jealousy.
She couldn’t fake it any longer. ‘No man has ever said I dazzle them, and I’m pretty certain they never will, so I’m trying my best to be nice here.’
Sadness flooded his face. It hollowed his cheeks and pulled down his mouth.
‘I can’t win now. If I claim you dazzle me too, in a different sort of way, you’ll think I’m lying to make you feel better.
But if I shrug it off, you’ll feel smaller and less worthy.
’ Gage placed her hands against his thudding heartbeat.
‘I should’ve known she would blight the best thing that ever happened to me. Pass my phone over, please.’
It hovered on the tip of her tongue to ask why he couldn’t leave it alone while they had a serious conversation, but something stopped her.
After all, he was the one who’d suggested early on that they set them aside at meals and on dates, so there must be a good reason for his request. Tamara grabbed it off the table and handed it over.
The table was one of her recent bargains.
A genuine Edwardian occasional table she’d picked up for a fiver in an auction because ‘brown furniture’ wasn’t fashionable these days.
In between everything else they’d been busy with recently, she’d helped him to choose the furniture for his newly redecorated flat, including his only non-negotiable — a sofa at least two metres long.
The dark-navy L-shaped sectional she’d tracked down from an online discount warehouse fitted the bill perfectly and had come at a bargain price.
Georgie and his crew had ripped out the dated kitchen and bathroom, and installed all new fittings.
They’d painted the walls a cool grey and white, and fitted matching blinds for the windows.
‘My old mate, Taff, who you met at the bookshop opening, sent this and I should’ve shown you right away.’ He scratched his head.
Heads up, mate. Victoria’s on the warpath and says she needs to see you. She conned your address out of me. Sorry.
‘I rang and left her a message, telling her not to come and see me. In case you have any doubts, I am one hundred per cent not interested in anything she has to say.’
‘Tell me some more about your marriage because try as I might, I can’t see the two of you together.
’ She sensed him deciding how much honesty she could take.
‘Don’t hold back. I’m not a fragile plant.
I suppose the sex was amazing. I’m sure Tori can bend into positions my poor body couldn’t copy in a million years unless I wanted to end up in A and E. ’
‘Oh, Tamara.’ His voice cracked. ‘I am so angry with her right now. But I’m actually angrier with myself for not telling you straight away.
It was stupid.’ Gage caressed her face with his hands and gazed into her eyes.
His mouth was inches away from hers and if they kissed, one thing would lead to another.
But a vivid picture of his ex-wife, supercilious and arrogant from her sleek red hair to her ankle-breaking designer heels, filled her head.
‘Was the sex great?’ The question burst out and she sat back, crossing her arms and putting some space between them.
Gage paused before saying softly, ‘Yeah, at first it was. But after a while, it palled because at the end of the day, physical satisfaction on its own leaves you empty.’ He visibly swallowed. ‘There was no affection, Tamara, no real caring.’
Tamara shuffled over to close the distance between them. ‘I suggest you ring Victoria again and make it crystal clear you don’t want her coming here.’
Her fierce response brought the first smile she’d seen on Gage’s face all evening.
Despite that, a sliver of her old insecurity returned. ‘If that’s what you want . . . If I’m poking my nose in and you want to—’
‘Stop it. Please. We’ve both got pasts. There’s no getting away from that, even though it’d be a bloody sight easier.’
The crooked tug of his smile loosened something inside her.
‘Victoria is part of mine. That’s all. A small part in the scheme of things.’
‘I need to stop being immature, don’t I? And dig out a pair of my old Bridget Jones big panties, the sort I used to wear before you came along.’
A wicked grin burst out of him. ‘So all the sexy silk and lace was bought in my honour?’
‘I didn’t know I was competing with a supermodel, either, did I?’
‘You have never — ever — been in competition with Victoria. She was a mistake when I was vulnerable. You’re a choice I’ve made from a good place, mentally and literally.’
‘Any minute now you’ll start singing “You’re the One that I Want” and beg me to get my Sandy outfit on.’ That was a cowardly attempt to make light of his unequivocal statement.
‘I can’t hold a tune, so that’s not happening. The Sandy outfit — well, you know I won’t ever turn down that offer. But . . .’ Gage’s cheeks flushed.
There was the sense he wasn’t saying something, so she decided to pre-empt him.
‘The level of commitment we’ve got now works great for me, if that’s what you’re worried about.
My teenage dreams of white weddings and happy-ever-afters flew out the window long ago.
I’ve clung onto my independence all these years and never let any man get as close as you. ’
‘I know. And that means a lot. What we’ve got is great.’ The loud breath he exhaled emanated relief.
It’d shocked her a minute ago to realise she wanted more. Lying had been the only way.