19. Jack
Chapter 19
Jack
T he idea I’d alluded to that night with Chloe, Amy, and Phil had built out over the next week, and before I knew it, I’d compiled a mini itinerary in the Notes app on my phone. I’d heard Morgan swap book recommendations with Grey, so I was pretty sure it would be a hit, even if she’d been before. Still though, I was questioning the plans up until the moment I arrived at Morgan’s house to pick her up.
I saw the “For Sale” sign hanging out the front and grimaced. She’d mentioned on a Monday a few weeks ago that her house was being sold, but I hadn’t noticed the sign before. I wondered how long she had before she’d have to move.
The green front door swung open, and out came Morgan, looking like the vision of summer in denim shorts and a strappy, flowing top. She smiled at me as she got into the car, then looked at the stereo, clearly expecting me to turn it up like I usually did. But today, I wasn’t looking to avoid conversation with Morgan. We’d opened up Pandora’s box the last time we’d hung out, and this time I was actually looking forward to the conversation part of the day.
During the drive, we talked about work – the block of flats in town that I’d been working on for the last few weeks, and the gala planning and fundraising for her. By the time we were close to our destination, I felt like I knew everything about her job. But I was surprised to hear that she’d been working on a freelance project, too.
“I don’t know, I’m nervous,” she said, bringing her fists to her face in embarrassment. “I’ve never drawn for anyone but myself before.”
“I mean, you drew everyone’s characters for them, didn’t you?”
“Yeah, but that’s a bit different.”
“Is it? What are the concepts so far?”
“Well I’ve got a few that look promising,” she said, and though my eyes were on the road in front of us, I heard her voice perk up, changing from anxious and weary when she’d been talking about her day job to wistful and excited, and I could picture the glimmer in her eye when talking about the project. “He wants it to evoke combat, but I’m trying to avoid the obvious imagery like a sword and shield, so I’m thinking maybe an axe, or even an anvil? He sells lots of crafty stuff, like minis and paint and materials for 3D printers. So an anvil feels fitting to me. I just hope he likes it, too.”
“That sounds like a lot of work though,” I said. “On top of everything going on with your house? Have you found a new place yet?”
“Ew, no,” she said, and I could hear the frown in her voice even without looking over at her. “Honestly I’m avoiding it at the moment. It’s a lot easier to focus on the illustrations.”
“Sorry,” I said as I turned into a lay-by and parked along the verge behind a few other cars. “I won’t make you talk about it. Today’s meant to be an escape from all that.”
I looked over at her to see her smiling softly at me. “Thanks, Jack. I really appreciate it.” Then she looked around. “But, um … where exactly are we escaping to?”
“Are you up for a little bit of a walk?” I asked. “That way you won’t know where we’re going until we get there.”
“Ooh, fun,” she said, clapping her hands together. “Definitely.”
We started down a drive coming off the lay-by, which gave way to a path that cut across fields and along borders before joining up with the River Wye. As we walked, Morgan told me about a rescue dog she’d fallen in love with at work; how she’d been walking him at least twice a week, sometimes more, and how even the rescue was shocked by how few enquiries they’d had. Sure, he was a senior dog, but he was a fairly sought-after breed apparently.
By the time we arrived, I’d had a full run-down of the dog-friendly vs no-pets-allowed options on the current housing market, and I had a new appreciation for what it was like to not know where you would be able to lay your head in a few months’ time. I offered to help her look, but she brushed me off, and I got the impression that she just didn’t want to think about it.
We reached the end of the path and followed the signpost towards the town centre. We crossed a bridge over the river and came into town, and she started staring at the signs pointing to various destinations – the toilets, the castle, the car park, and more – first in Welsh, and then in English.
“I’m sorry, did we cross into Wales? I totally missed that!” she said, pointing at the signs.
I nodded. “Just before we parked the car.”
She looked at me confused, and then pensive as she puzzled through it. Her gaze landed on a sign for the Globe at Hay Art Institute, and then her face lit up.
“Oh my god, are we in Hay-on-Wye?!”
I smiled at her reaction and nodded. Nailed it.
She squealed and did a little shimmying motion, which I took to be a kind of happy dance. I was excited, too – I’d never actually been, either. I wasn’t as much of a reader as Morgan, but the concept of a “book town” still appealed to me, if just for the vibes. Apparently there was a bookshop for every hundred people who lived there, which had sounded unbelievable until I’d looked at the map and realised just how many there were. There was a big literary festival there every year and everything.
“You’ve heard of it then?”
“Of course I’ve heard of it,” she said. “It’s a bookworm’s dream.” She looked up and down the high street, mesmerised. “Okay well, very well done,” she said. “Cara and I always talked about coming here, but we never made it happen.”
“Okay, well, I’ve got a plan, if that’s okay,” I said. She nodded, so I continued, checking the time on my phone. “It’s just after ten, so most if not all of the bookshops are open now. If you’re up for it, I thought we could wander on our own until about half past twelve, and then meet up for lunch.”
Morgan’s smile faltered. “You don’t want to walk around together?”
My heart did a weird little skip at knowing she wanted to spend the day together, even when I’d given her an out. But I wasn’t done. “We will after lunch,” I assured her. “But I had an idea. Before lunch, we each have to find the other a book. So we can’t be together, or it would spoil the surprise.”
I didn’t want it to feel too much like a school trip with an assignment, and I didn’t want worrying about shopping for me to get in the way of her enjoying the day. But I also thought it could be fun. And part of me was curious to see what she would choose for me after the last time we’d hung out.
She thought about it for a moment and then nodded. “I like it,” she said. “Do you know where you want to eat for lunch?”
I nodded and sent her a pin to the place I’d picked out. She checked her phone, and I saw the text go from “delivered” to “read” in my messages.
“Then let the game begin,” she said, sticking her hand out in front of her. I grabbed it, and she shook her hand exaggeratedly before turning an about-face and striding away from me. She was going in the opposite direction of most of the bookshops, but I figured she’d realise that soon enough. And plus, you couldn’t go a hundred metres without stumbling into a bookshop around here, so she’d make her way.
As I watched her walk away, my admiration for the way the sunlight kissed her shoulders was suddenly overshadowed by a sinking realisation: that as much thought as I’d given to today’s plans, I’d not thought for a single moment about what book I would get her. I had a lot of ground to cover.