Chapter Nine
Chapter Nine
I try to ignore my phone as I get ready for work the next day. It takes all of my willpower not to check social media again, like a scab I want to pick at. I brush my teeth, wash my face and dress, paying close attention to myself the whole time, trying to anchor my thoughts to the present moment, so they don’t drift. Adam and Jay call goodbye to me from their bedroom as I leave the house, and I realise it’s a Saturday. The underground is quiet and, as I walk towards the shop, I take happy note of the warm air of spring turning to summer. Absentmindedly, I open my Instagram and realise the app has not refreshed, that I am still on Frannie’s profile.
I go to close the page, trying not to look, but something catches my eye. The photo of George and Rowena at dinner is gone. I check again once I’m back above ground and walking along the road to Meticulous Ink, wondering if the lost signal on my phone has caused the app to glitch, but no. I refresh several times and find the same thing. The photo has been deleted.
As I approach the glass doors, I see that they are unlocked and open, ten minutes before opening time, and know that Graham must have arrived. I put my phone into my bag and push the thoughts from my mind. He greets me as I walk inside, calmly raising a hand in a pressed white shirt.
‘How was sunny Spain?’ he asks, ‘You haven’t got much of a tan’
‘I don’t get a choice to tan. It’s either come back the same or come back bright red.’ I say, finding it funny that Adam and Jay had noted the same thing.
We exchange light chatter as we unpack the boxes for the day ahead. We are barely into May, but Back to School is already on the cards. We put new deliveries of academic planners, bound in navy and bottle green with smart foiled text, onto the shelves. I take handfuls of new pens over to the wall, carefully placing each into its home as though introducing a new member of the family. They sit in their pots like happy flowers as the daylight pours through the glass doors.
To my surprise we have customers as soon as we open, several young women who compliment the window display and run their hands along the notebooks like they are shopping for dresses. I watch them out of the corner of my eye, how they test the bright pink and pastel pens carefully, discussing what would be best for their planners. They are young and lovely-looking, each dressed for the summer a few weeks early, with shiny hair and tote bags full of second-hand books they must have bought from the charity shop at the end of the road.
They each buy a notebook and several pens, and one of them buys a pack of gold metal bookmarks in pretty patterns. Graham makes them laugh with a friendly discussion about his granddaughter, who is about their age. As they leave I notice one of them turns and, framing it carefully, takes a photo of the storefront before they leave.
The rest of the morning is busy, but a lull falls over the street at noon, and when Graham goes to lunch I get time to tidy the shelves, wipe down the sills beneath the window displays, and check the notebooks for sun damage. When I’ve finished tidying the wrapping paper behind the counter I turn to face the door and, to my surprise, see Lila running in towards me. I almost don’t recognise her with her long hair tied into a plait, wearing a pink sweater and white jeans. She calls my name and runs around the counter unceremoniously, flinging her arms out towards me. I catch her in my arms and give her a hug.
‘What are you doing here?’ I ask, and she looks at me like I’m an idiot.
‘We came to see you, obviously,’ she says.
‘We?’
I look up and see George, leaning against the doorframe. My heart jumps like I’ve been electrocuted.
‘I hope you don’t mind,’ he says, ‘I’m looking after Lila while Frannie and Nisha are getting the dress altered. They mentioned you work a few tube stops away so we thought we’d drop in on you.’
‘Not at all, it’s lovely to see you both,’ I say, ‘I didn’t think I’d see you again until the wedding.’
George also looks different, away from the sun of Mijas, though no less handsome, in a black jacket and plaid blue shirt with jeans and brown boots. Where in Spain he had looked incredibly Spanish, sun-kissed and tipped in gold, here he looks quintessentially London, just missing a takeaway coffee cup in his hand.
‘It’s beautiful in here,’ George says watching Lila run around the store with wide eyes, ‘are you on your own?’
‘I’m with Graham, he’s on his lunch break.’
‘Have you had yours?’ George asks.
‘Not yet, I go second. I like a shorter afternoon.’
‘Well if you fancy a walk, Lila and I were going to have a stroll around the park up the road. The internet tells me there are swans and Lila’s starting to find me boring. I”m hoping I can save her from a swan attack and get her affection back.’
‘From what I hear swans can break a man’s arm, so you’ll need all the help you can get. She’ll be very disappointed if she watches you lose a fight to a bird.’
‘You’re right, I’ll probably need backup. I’ll buy you a coffee to say thanks.’
When Graham returns from his lunch I introduce him to George and Lila, and walk down the steps to the staff room to get my bag and jacket. I wish I was better dressed. I’m in a pair of cropped grey jeans that I’m never sure flatter me, and an oat-coloured jumper that has become a little stretched through wear. I try to arrange my hair more neatly on my shoulders in the staff bathroom and fish out some mascara from my bag that I touch to the ends of my lashes. Oddly I had relaxed back into George’s presence when he was in front of me. What made me nervous was the spectre of him conjured by my memory, and the strange parasocial effect of seeing someone on social media. When he’s in front of me, he’s as human as I am. No less beautiful, no less lovely, but a person I can respond to, rather than an ideal that lingers in the memory of my childhood.
I walk back upstairs to the shop floor, where Lila stands on tip-toe on one side of the counter, Graham on the other. He’s sliding something into a small paper bag and, when he tells her the price, she hands over a crumpled note. Graham hands back a few coins and the parcel. Lila clutches the paper bag to her chest with one hand, while handing the change to George.
‘Thank you,’ she says, and I realise she is sheepish, as though slightly embarrassed by her purchase.‘You’re welcome.’ George says, pocketing the coins. He looks around as I approach.‘Ready?’ he asks.‘Ready.’ I reply, and the three of us wave goodbye to Graham and walk out into the street.
We wander through a few residential streets to a nearby park, a wide stretch of grass, dappled with sunlight streaming through the canopies of trees that grow on either side of the wide path that cuts through. The day is warm and bright and full of birdsong. As we walk, Lila shouts and points into the trees, and we look up to see starbursts of bright green flitting between the leaves.
‘The London parakeets,’ I gasp.
‘I always forget about them,’ George looks up at the birds, ‘it’s like a little surprise every time you see them flying around between the pigeons and squirrels.’
‘It’s one of those local mysteries isn’t it?’ I say, ‘Where they come from?’
‘I think the consensus is that someone’s pet birds got loose sometime in the seventies and multiplied,’ George says, ‘I like that line of thinking. We always think that past mistakes cause future problems, but in this case, it’s like a past mistake has made the future world a tiny bit more beautiful.
We walk to a small wooden hut selling pastries and hot drinks.
‘So what do you get when rose lattes and matcha aren’t on the menu?’ George asks as Lila picks out an apple juice and a gingerbread figure wearing a carefully floral dress.
I ask for a cappuccino, which is handed to me by the barista in a brown takeaway cup, and George pays for it on his phone while I’m opening my coin purse.
‘You don’t have to do that,’ I say.
‘You’re here on swan patrol with me,’ George says, ‘I’m just compensating you for your time.’
He also pays for a flat white for himself, and a small paper cup of peas available from a tiny freezer behind the barista, while Lila explains to me at length that bread makes the water dirty and gives ducks stomach problems, and that peas are the best thing to feed them. The park is more crowded than I would have expected, with Londoners taking advantage of a beautiful day to spend some time outside. A few families with small children gather near a cluster of swings and see-saws in bright colours. George asks Lila if she wants to join them, but all the children are younger than she is and she rolls her eyes at him before running a few feet ahead to see the ducks moving serenely through the water of the lake.
‘Honestly, how could you even ask that?’ I tease George, who puts his hand to his forehead in mock distress.
‘I don’t even know. World’s most stupid uncle clearly.’
‘I think they do mugs with that on, you know?’
He laughs, and I feel lightened and happy.
‘Can you keep a secret?’ he asks.
‘Probably?’ I say, a wary question in my voice.
‘It’s nothing bad, but since we spoke in the coffee shop that morning in Spain I’ve done some thinking.’
‘Right?’
‘I’ve broken up with Rowena.’
‘Oh,’ I stop, wanting to say something meaningful, then default to the cliché, ‘I’m sorry to hear that.’
‘It’s not really something to be sorry about. We’ll both be okay, nobody’s to blame. We’re just not right for one another.’
‘That’s very mature,’ I say, ‘I think it can be easy to cling on to things like that, and just decide not to look too hard. But facing it head-on and making a decision is definitely better than leaving it to get worse.’
‘You think so?’ he turns to me, ‘I’m glad you feel that way. I’ve always thought you were wise about these things.’
Again I’m not sure what to say. He knows my ‘wisdom’ about relationships comes from my upbringing, but I don’t want to raise something that will make me seem like someone in need of sympathy. I’d left that life behind and tried not to think too hard about it. I cast around for a line of conversation that will take us away from me.
‘I saw a picture of you two out with Frannie and Theo on Frannie’s Instagram last night. Then when I went back on the app this morning it was gone,’ I say, ‘I wasn’t being weird, ” I say hurriedly, ‘I just happened to still be on the profile.’
‘I asked Frannie to take it down,’ George says, ‘I said Rowena didn’t like how she looked in it. Truthfully, I ended things the morning after that, and it felt crass to let that photo stay up.’
‘You didn’t tell Frannie?’
‘I haven’t told anyone,’ he says, ‘that’s why I asked if you could keep a secret.’
‘I won’t say anything,’ I say, ‘but why not?’
George sighs and takes a sip of his coffee. We both turn our heads to where Lila is throwing handfuls of frozen peas into the water where the ducks are gathering, jostling for a spot.
‘I think it would just be a distraction for my family while we’re all supposed to be focusing on Frannie and Theo and the wedding.’
He looks at me, and I cross my arms.
‘And?’
‘And I’m just not quite ready for them to say they told me so yet. Not until I can tell them over text and then just avoid them for a month.’
‘Very brave.’
‘I know. It’s not my finest moment, and I’ll tell them before the wedding. In the meantime, if you could just refrain from telling anyone, I would appreciate it.’
‘Your secret’s safe with me. Though why did you tell me?’
George looks at me, with an expression I can’t quite read, but before he can speak Lila runs back up to us, breathless and bright-eyed.
‘There are so many ducks,’ she says.
‘And I bet they’re grateful for their lunch,’ George said, ‘we should see about getting some of our own. How long do you get Hydie?’
I check the time on my phone. ‘I have about half an hour, but I always let Graham go home early so he won’t mind if I’m ten minutes late.’
‘Great. Let’s find somewhere to eat on the way back.’
We walk together, and as we leave the park Lila runs to put her juice bottle and the empty paper cup into a bin. She runs back to us and, with both hands-free, runs between us and takes one of ours in each of hers. George gives her an indulgent smile, as though she’s the most important person in the world. As we walk I see, out of the corner of my eye, George lower his head to kiss Lila softly on the back of her hand.
We find a small sandwich shop, the exterior painted buttercream yellow, the interior a little cramped with wooden tables and blue floral tablecloths. The elderly woman at the counter makes us each a sandwich and wraps it in wax paper and we take them to sit down at one of the tables.
‘What did you buy at the shop Lila?’ I ask, and am surprised when she becomes coy, shrugging her shoulders and taking a large bite of her sandwich.
‘Don’t be shy.’ George says, ‘She met him too, remember? You can tell her.’
‘It’s a secret.’ Lila says. George looks around and lowers his voice.
‘I already told Hydie a secret to keep for me today, so I know we can trust her.’
‘Really?’ Lila looks up at me and narrows her eyes. ‘What was the secret?’
‘Well, I can’t tell you that, can I?’
Lila studies me for a moment, then decides that was the right answer. She rummages in her small rucksack and pulls out the paper bag Graham packed for her.
‘I’m going to write a letter.’ She says, laying out several sheets of beautiful shell-pink writing paper, embossed with golden foiled stars. The paper is accompanied by a small pack of envelopes in a light rose red.
‘That’s beautiful. Whoever receives that letter will be very lucky.’
‘Are you going to tell Hydie who you’re going to write to?’ George says.
Lila turns pink and tries to stop the smile coming onto her face.
‘Camilo.’
‘The boy with the cat in Spain?’ I ask, remembering his messy chestnut curls, his thin legs in dusty sandals.
Lila nods and gathers up her things.
‘Lila doesn’t have a phone, obviously, so she asked if she could send him a letter before she goes back to Spain.’ George says. ‘It’s incredibly cute.’
We finish our sandwiches while George teases Lila gently about Camilo. His jokes take me back to when I had been a child watching him tease Frannie about crushes on boy band members. He had always known the right button to push to get a reaction without being cruel. Frannie had laughed and feigned anger in the same way Lila does now, and it’s as though time is reversing and I am a child again, feeling my insides turn to dappled sunlight in his presence.
George and Lila walk me back to the stationery shop. I go to wave them off but Lila jumps up and flings her arms around me. I crouch to hug her back.
‘I’ll see you soon okay? Good luck writing that letter.’ and when she lets go George steps up and opens his arms. I step into his embrace and, like last time, there’s a beat when each of us should let go but don’t.
‘See you soon,’ George says, stepping away again, ‘look after yourself.’
‘You too.’ I say. I watch them walk away until they round the corner to the tube station. I feel a sudden cold drop on my cheek and look up at the grey clouds as I step back into Meticulous Ink, realising that we just missed the rain.