‘Oh, wow, it’s going to be seriously gorgeous.’ Her face lit up. ‘The green-and-white colour scheme is perfect. Bookshops should be peaceful, welcoming places.’
‘That’s exactly how I feel.’
She wandered around and ran her fingers over the old wooden counter he’d retained from the shop’s previous evolutions. Tamara swung back to face him. ‘How’ve you done all this in such a short time?’
Her enthusiasm drew him in and Gage found himself telling her about the meticulous preparations he’d started about six months ago. Once he’d found the property, there’d been the purchase to complete, the business name to register and insurance to sort out. Then there’d been the research to do on the local demographic to determine who might be his potential customers. The steepest learning curves had been in designing the space, selecting and ordering books, and setting up the website and social media sites — crucial these days.
‘I’ve loved having something to get my teeth into again.’
‘I had no idea so much was involved and it makes my tin-pot idea of opening a café here sound totally unrealistic. I wouldn’t have known where to start.’
‘If it’s any consolation, I didn’t either. But you strike me as smart, so you’d have figured it out.’ Gage hesitated. ‘Did I tread on your toes buying this place?’
‘Not at all. I didn’t have the money. I dare not touch my measly savings now, not if I’m almost certainly going to be jobless in the new year.’ The flat statement struck hard.
‘I was fortunate that the money wasn’t a big issue, partly because of this.’ He tapped his left knee. ‘It bumped up my pension significantly. I’ve lived pretty frugally too, one way or another.’ Gage was anxious to get this next part out of the way. ‘I was injured a couple of years ago in Khartoum. 40 Commando were on a humanitarian mission to evacuate British nationals from Sudan and we ran into a spot of bother.’
‘A spot of bother?’ Her eyebrows shot up. ‘Is that a classic example of British understatement?’
He managed the ghost of a smile. ‘I guess. It’s not that I won’t share all the details, but I can’t for security reasons. Let’s just say, our intelligence wasn’t what it should’ve been and we were pinned down. I was shot trying to escape and it shattered my kneecap. This one’s a fake. After some heavy-duty reconstructive surgery and intense physio it does a pretty good job, but I’ll never run marathons again.’
‘Did you before?’
‘No, but I played a lot of rugby and basketball. I was huge on keeping fit. It’s more of a challenge now.’ It’d been a struggle to reach the point where he could sound nonchalant about it all, but nothing changed the fact he was no longer fit, strong and close to invincible.
‘That’s a bummer.’
‘Yeah, well, that’s life.’ Which was a lot more than his old mate, Angus McDonald, could say.
Known as Farmer, for obvious reasons, the soft-spoken Scotsman came home in a flag-draped coffin to be buried withfull military honours in front of his heartbroken wife and three dazed children.
‘I should get back to work,’ he said reluctantly. ‘I’ve got the van to unload. It’s full of all the used books I had in storage.’
‘Would you like a hand?’ Colour suffused Tamara’s face. ‘I didn’t mean to imply—’
‘Don’t bloody tiptoe around me! I’ve had enough of other people’s pity to last a fucking lifetime.’ The words burst out before he put his brain in gear. ‘Hell, I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me. Just go,’ Gage whispered.
‘No.’
‘What do you mean, no?’
Tamara smirked. ‘I had you down as a fairly intelligent man, so I didn’t think simple English was beyond your understanding. I said no, because I’m still happy to stay and help.’
‘Even though I’m a rude, ungrateful bugger?’ He might as well say it himself.
‘Go figure.’
Her unrestrained laughter sent a surge of warmth racing through him.
‘Come on, I’ll help.’
Outside, he opened the van’s back doors. ‘There’s at least fifty boxes, I’m afraid.’ His gaze drifted to her muscular arms. ‘Not that they’ll be a challenge to you. The first time we met I wondered if you bent iron bars for fun. You must be at the gym all the time. I was going to ask you for a recommendation so I can get back to regular workouts.’
‘The gym? Sorry, but I’ve never darkened the doors of one in my life unless you count PE lessons at school. I’m sure St Austell must have a gym, but there’s nothing closer.’ She playfully flexed like a bodybuilder. ‘Hauling beer barrels up from the cellar. Digging my garden. Surfing. That’s where these come from. I’m a pretty serious coastal walker too.’
‘I used to love a good hard hike, but these days I have to pace myself and uneven ground can be tricky.’ He swallowed a wave of bitterness. Some days it felt like he’d lost a lot more than a kneecap.
‘I’ll take you sometime if you like? Show you the best spots and those it’s probably best you avoid. A lot of people use mountaineering sticks, so that might be worth a try.’
