‘You really think so?’
‘Yeah, yeah. Definitely.’
Vince is about to thank him and pass on his love to Michele and, uh – the baby. But Harry seems to have disappeared into a vortex of bawling, so Vince lowers himself onto a roadside bench and calls his wife.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Kate
I stop outside Off the Rails bookshop and stare at my phone. Vince’s name is displayed. Answer or ignore? What if it’s something urgent? He can message me, I decide, jamming it back into my jeans pocket.
I hadn’t planned to come back so soon. But Fergus did remind me last night that I’d promised to return for a more leisurely browse. Plus, I was in town anyway, dropping off some of Bea’s bric-a-brac at the charity shop. I’d also planned to scour every noticeboard in town for gardening firm flyers as Alice is ‘keen to get things started’, as she put it. ‘But I’m sure you’ll find someone. I have every faith in you, Kate.’ The pressure is mounting and, short of getting out there and tugging up weeds by myself, I really don’t know what to do.
Fergus is chatting to an elderly customer as I step inside. It strikes me how glad I am that he’s here today as he greets me enthusiastically. ‘Kate, meet Joe,’ he says. ‘One of my best customers. Kate’s helping to clear out Osprey House,’ he adds.
‘Brave woman.’ Joe chuckles.
‘Oh, not at all,’ I say truthfully. ‘I’m enjoying it actually.’
‘So, are you a friend of the family?’ he asks.
‘Erm, not quite,’ I say, trying to avoid fibbing that I’m hired help. Because I absolutelydon’twant to lie outright. ‘I just got to know Alice recently,’ I add.
‘Y’know, I didn’t ask how you two met,’ Fergus remarks.
‘Oh, we just kind of fell into each other,’ I babble, aware of my cheeks burning.
‘Really?’ He looks surprised. ‘That was lucky.’
‘Yes. Yeah, it really was.’
Those blue-grey eyes are fixed on mine. ‘Did you meet in London?’
‘We did, yes,’ I say hurriedly. My heart is racing, and I’m aware of both Fergus and Joe giving me curious looks. But Ican’tlie. I just can’t. Then, thankfully, Joe remarks, ‘You had to do the same thing with your folks’ place, didn’t you, Ferg? The clearing out?’
‘Yeah, a few years ago now,’ he replies.
‘It’s hard to let go of stuff,’ Joe adds, and Fergus agrees.
‘I kept the important things.’ He catches my look with a smile. ‘My excuse was, their old bits and pieces would add a bit of personality to the shop...’
‘You mean the binoculars and things on your shelves?’ I ask, relaxing a little now.
‘Yep, exactly. I was going for a sort of museum feel. They were Mum’s. She was a real nature person—’
‘Aye, she was that,’ Joe says fondly.
‘...and the ink bottles and nib pens were Dad’s,’ Fergus adds.
‘He wrote the parish newsletters,’ Joe explains. ‘Anyway, this is the best bookshop for miles around.’
‘I’m sure it is,’ I say, smiling now. ‘It’s really special.’
‘Although I thought he’d lost his marbles when he took it on,’ Joe adds with a smirk.
‘Everyone did,’ Fergus concedes. ‘Liv still thinks that now.’
‘And no wonder. Her mad dad, driving all over Perthshire buying up books...’ Joe laughs.
