‘I bet you’re the kind of girl that has her supermarket shop delivered at the same time every week.’
There was silence.
‘Oh my God… you are!’
‘I like efficiency!’
‘And you probably have a gym membership.’
‘Lots of people have gym memberships! Now go and get the wine.’
He laughed, then pushed a little further. ‘You know, this kind of sounds like a date.’
Normally, Fern would have snapped at him to shut up again. Normally, she would have called him an idiot and dismissed the idea entirely.
But this time… this time, she hesitated.
‘See you in the garden,’ she said instead, voice light.
There was a pause, then an unmistakable grin in his words. ‘It’s a date!’
ChapterThirteen
It was twenty minutes later when Fern stepped out of the bath, wrapping herself in a towel as her phone buzzed on the bedside table, her best friend’s name flashing across the screen. Fern smiled as she picked up her phone.
‘Hello!’ she answered, towel-drying her hair.
‘There you are! It’s not like you to not check in. I just want to know if you survived your first few days in Antique Purgatory.I thought you’d fallen off the face of the earth.’ Ella’s voice rang through, bright and full of life. ‘I’m assuming you’re home now. What are you doing tomorrow night? We’re all going to that new wine bar in Soho, super posh, super exclusive.’
Fern tucked the phone between her ear and shoulder as she rummaged through her suitcase. Even though it was just drinks in the garden with Daniel, she wanted to look good. She pulled out a simple but flattering dress and put it on as Ella continued talking.
‘Ella, I…’ She slipped her feet into her ballet shoes. ‘I’m not in London.’
‘Where are you then?’
‘I’m still here, on Puffin Island, in an antique shop I somehow own, with a man I barely know who insists he’s not leaving, and I’—she took a breath—‘I might actually be having fun.’
Ella let out a dramatic gasp. ‘Fern. Are you being serious? In a place that probably doesn’t even have Uber or a decent wine bar? Who even are you?’
‘I can confirm there are no Ubers,’ she replied, and recounted the horror of her suitcase bumping across the causeway when she arrived.
‘It sounds awful!’
‘The highlight of my day was dusting a shelf full of porcelain cats.’
‘Tell me everything.’
Fern didn’t leave out any details. She babbled on about the shop, the flat and, of course, Daniel– his stubbornness, his maddening confidence, the way he somehow made the whole situation seem normal. Then she shared the sleeping arrangement.
‘You’re sharing a bed? With a stranger?’ Ella shrieked so loudly Fern had to pull the phone away from her ear. ‘He could be a mass murderer.’
‘He’s not!’ Fern protested. ‘And I’m grateful for his company as the bed has a moose head looming over it. I’ve also built a pillow barricade.’
‘This Daniel, does he respect the pillow barricade?’
Fern hesitated. She thought of the moment she’d woken up yesterday morning, tangled in Daniel, his arm draped over her. ‘That’s irrelevant.’ She could sense Ella shaking her head on the other end of the line.
‘Fern. This is insane. I don’t like the sound of any of this. You’re not staying there.’
