‘I don’t know. I hope so …’ I trail off, realizing I can’t say more without revealing the bunker and the sculpture. There’s an awkward beat of silence before I ask, ‘So, what did you end up doing jobwise?’
‘I’m a book editor. Hence why I’ve got all these.’ He adjusts them in his arms. ‘I work for an indie publisher in Bristol. Non-fiction. I specialize in history.’
‘Oh, Harry, that’s amazing.’ I feel a burst of pride. ‘So you did it. You said you always wanted to.’
‘Well, it was always that or an astronaut.’
‘I think a book editor is safer.’ I laugh.
‘I’m also writing my own history book. World War One. Trying to do that around work, but it’s taking me a long time. Lots of research.’
‘I can imagine.’
He falls silent and his eyes soften as he adds, ‘I was so very sorry to hear about your mum. I wish I’d been… better … you know, after. I wanted to reach out so many times, but I was this stupid teenage boy who had no clue how to handle anything deep or my feelings …’ He glances down at his trainers and blushes. He looks so guilty that I rush to reassure him that I understand.
‘Harry. God, it was a messed-up time. I was living in Keynsham, and back then, you and Dorothea and this place all seemed a world away from what I was living through.’
‘Dorothea was so worried about you …’ He looks up at me. ‘She tried, you know. She tried to see you but your sister sent her away.’
I stare at him in surprise. ‘What?’
‘Your sister told Dorothea that she shouldn’t contact you. That it would be better for you if she left you alone. I’m sure she did what she thought was best,’ he adds quickly, noticing my bewildered expression.
‘Alison never told me …’
‘I’m sure she was just trying to protect you.’
My already complicated feelings towards Alison darken. I swallow and try and brush away my discomfort. ‘I better be going,’ I say, suddenly noticing it’s already dark. And then, as he steps back, the spine of one of the books he’s holding catches my eye:A WOMAN IN TURMOIL? The unauthorized biography of Dorothea Roe.
‘What’s that?’ I point to the book.
He looks down. ‘Ah, yes, this one.’ He pulls it carefully from the pile and hands it to me. ‘It’s a proof copy. Forreviews, et cetera. It’s not actually published until July. I’m not the editor but I promised to provide notes as a fresh pair of eyes, and also someone who knew her.’
I move both the dogs’ leads to one hand so I can take the book with the other. It’s a white paperback with red writing and a photograph of a young Dorothea on the front. ‘Did Dorothea know about this?’
His cheeks redden. ‘Yes, she did. She wasn’t happy about it. She asked me so many times if I could give her any info on the author, but obviously I wouldn’t be allowed to do that.’
A surge of excitement rushes through me.
‘I’ve made some notes in that version, so I need it back …’
My face grows hot. ‘Oh, yes, of course. Sorry, I wasn’t trying to steal it …’ I laugh but I don’t hand it back.
‘I’d give it to you otherwise. But I can get you a copy? From work. You could pop into the office or we could meet for a coffee? Have a proper catch-up?’
I hesitate. I don’t want to give Harry the wrong idea. I should have told him about Josh.
His green eyes are hopeful, and, as his gaze meets mine, my stomach does this strange swoop. I glance down at the biography in my hands, feeling disconcerted by the effect he’s having on me all these years later.
‘Um, could I just borrow this copy? I’d be super careful with it and give it back to you tomorrow?’ I know it’s cheeky to ask, but I can’t bear the thought of giving it back to him. I need to read it straight away.
‘Ah, I’m sorry, but I need to finish it tonight so I can give my colleague notes in the morning. But I’ll get you a copy ASAP.’
Disappointment gnaws at me but I smile and say thanks anyway. His fingers briefly brush mine as I hand the book back to him. We lock eyes and the years fall away, so that I feel like that teenager again, until I step back from him, clearing my throat, breaking the spell. So much has happened. We aren’t the same people, I remind myself. I need to get home. To Josh.
‘Anyway, I’d better go …’ I say.
‘Can I have your number?’ he says at the same time and we both laugh awkwardly and exchange numbers.
