‘I remember it well. All that black eyeliner, those heavy studded belts.’
‘Ha! Good times. According to The Mums, I’m smack bang in the middle of my spinster era, and apparently that is a fate worse than death.’
‘Oh, no, has the interrogation over why you’re single at thirty-one started?’ As soon as Lily turned twenty-five, the conversation about future husbands heated up, like there was no time to waste.
‘It’s never really stopped, to be honest. I’m deflecting as best I can but they’re too powerful when they’re all together. Now they’re considering arranging a marriage for me since I clearly can’t do it myself – can you imagine? I did what I had to do and pointed out Mai’s secret stash of alcopops and hoped that would take the attention away from me for a bit.’
I shake my head. ‘Did it? I almost feel sorry for her.’ The Mums don’t abide by alcohol; it’s bad for your skin and will prematurely age you. And that will only exacerbate the delay in finding a suitable husband.
‘Yeah, I felt a tiny bit bad too but arranging my marriage? Like what is it, the 1800s? Never mind the fact that I don’t want to get married. Trust me, you’re not missing much here, Harper. Really. I hope you’re enjoying island life, soak it up while you can.’
How can I miss London so much yet still be enjoying my time at the Last Chance Resort? But I’m grateful for the reprieve. And for the digital detox. ‘I’m missing my Bookstagram page, but it’s actually a relief not having to worry about what to post, how to make it pretty, who is reading what, why my views are down, whether I’m boring.’ And on it goes, the tangle of emotions when you’re never quite sure you’re good enough.
‘Your page took off, and I suppose that added to the pressure to perform, especially when it became monetised. Do you think you’d enjoy it more if none of that mattered – if it was just a hobby again?’
‘Maybe.’ I consider it. My page grew over time and so the pressure grew incrementally too – some days I felt twisted with this mad panic that I’d be letting people down if any of my numbers dropped and so I scrambled to keep the views ticking over. If my reach dropped on a paid promotional post, my heart would be in my throat, having to share the disappointing stats with the publisher or author.
I’ve never stepped back from it long enough to weigh up whether the payoff was worth it. Now I’m contemplating whether monetising it was the right choice. While it was a fun side hustle, it wasn’t without pressure.
Especially for people like me who get obsessed over the numbers side of things and want to people please. Which reminds me, I have to send Xavier the bookshop figures which I’ve held off doing because they’re rather lacklustre despite the various efforts I’ve made so far.
‘You were always stressed about it. From what I saw, it took the shine off reading for you.’ If I’m honest it did give me a fair amount of anxiety worrying if my clients were happy with their investment and if followers found my content fun and interesting – as I tried to balance both sides.
‘The more I reflect back, the more I see you’re right. And here I go again into that same vortex.’ I tell Lily all about how I’m hoping to dip my toes into social media for the Barefoot Bookshop. And enjoy it from behind the screen, anonymously, this time. ‘The vista here is incredible and will make a stunning backdrop for the books, not to mention the bookshop itself and the star of the show, Turt Vonnegut, who I’m guessing is the world’s first and only bookshop tortoise.’
‘That I would like to see, and it will be less stressful since it’s not going to be monetised or your entire focus. And I hope it’ll make me feel like I’m there in spirit and not stuck with my nineteen-year-old cousin who speaks in Gen Z slang I find impossible to understand. I’m sure she does it to wind me up.’
I bet that’s exactly why she does it too. ‘I hope Mai doesn’t attempt to throw any more Snapchat pal parties.’
Lily sighs. ‘Mai’s on her best behaviour while the gang’s here, so we’ll see how she goes when they’ve finally decamped. Oh, and I found out that my entire family were following your Bookstagram before you deactivated it and they have a lot of feelings.’
‘I’m sure they do!’ My heart squeezes. The Zhous are a supportive lot. ‘That’s so sweet.’
‘Yeah, they can be. Anyway, you’re well aware of their fascination with body language?’
I’ve had many a chat with Lily’s mum about this very topic and repeat her usual phrase from memory: ‘Body language can tell you everything you need to know about a person, especially men and whether they’re husband material.’
Lily giggles. ‘Right. And for a man suitable for matrimony, it’s all in the way he holds his shoulders apparently…’
My mind goes to Xavier and his physicality. He’s got a presence that changes the energy in a room. I shake the vision of him away. It’s more likely that he brings tension with him, and that’s what I’m picking up.
‘Well, there was much discussion about you and your Bookstagram live streams, and they say that you’re holding all your tension in your back teeth. This is a problem for two reasons: first, it can cause untold damage to your molars; and second, it has the potential to blow your chances of finding a husband before you turn forty. If you don’t find a husband before forty, well, they just did this group shudder and then lit a bunch of candles, as if incanting a spell.’
This is a lot to process. ‘How does holding all my tension in my back teeth affect my chances of finding a husband before the I turn the big four-oh?’ I’m genuinely curious. Their quirky beliefs are wacky but they’re often surprisingly accurate about things, so I don’t know whether to laugh or ask for help.
‘Aside from the obvious…’
‘It will prematurely age me.’ They have a real thing with that.
‘Yes. But it also gives off a signal to men that you’re too clenched.’
‘Too… clenched?’ What the…!
‘Uptight. Coiled. A spring that hasn’t sprung but will explode at any moment, usually in a messy, possibly deranged way.’
At that I burst into hysterical laughter and Lily follows suit. When we finally compose ourselves, I say, ‘They paint such vivid pictures!’
‘You don’t want to hear what they said about me!’
