She must be out of her mind to let her guard down like this. To cheapen what she feels about the shop and what Sam is doing to it.
‘Bye,’ she says, vaguely in his direction, scurrying out of there like the rat she feels she is.
Lexi trudges back to the shop, defeated, her body on high alert– because: that kiss!– and also experiencing the whiplash of an unfulfilled promise. Her mind, however, is going in a thousand different directions. She has to find someone who’s as good at social media and marketing as Tessa is. She has to beat Sam at this game, not only to keep the shop going but to salvage what’s left of her dignity. What if the kiss was some misguided attempt to distract her, to throw her off course, to stop her minding about Tessa? It hasn’t worked, obviously, but she has toproveto him that it hasn’t worked, and prove it to herself, too. After all: what are men compared to books and bookshops?
In her office, Lexi plots last month’s expenses and income onto the graph of doom. Somehow, it’s getting worse: the lines are converging. Admittedly, she’s spent some money on marketing this month that will only pay off at a later stage, but right now it looks scary. Once those lines meet, the shop will be in the red, otherwise known, in polite society at least, as up the creek without a paddle.
All this drama, and it’s not even eleven o’clock yet. Lexi is emotionally spent and physically exhausted from her shortened night and the earlier rush of adrenaline. She picks up her phone: it’s early back in London, but she needs her sister. She feels so alone on this side of the Atlantic, carrying the weight of this bookshop without either a romantic or a business partner, and more or less without a flatmate to bounce ideas off. It feels crushing, all of a sudden: these people’s jobs, the vibrant centre of the community, all dependent on her being able to keep two lines apart on a graph.
She looks over at Pippin, purring away, his morning snooze still well underway, oblivious to the fact that she could really do with the soft weight of him in her lap. She types her sister’s name into her phone, and she doesn’t even know what she’s going to write until the words appear, fully formed under her thumb.
I want to come home.
It’s been ages, she types back, almost immediately.It would be nice to see you.
But Lexi doesn’t just want toseeher sister. She doesn’t just want to visit. If everything is falling apart here, she can’t stay in this town, in this country. She needs to go home to Monster Munch, apple Tango, and greasy caffs with proper bacon and no threat of Sam walking in.
No, I meancome homecome home.
She watches the dots on her screen as her sister no doubt struggles to think of something wise and compassionate to say.
What’s happened?
Everything’s going wrong. Bookshop accounts aren’t adding up. Erin’s moving out soon. DC men are terrible.
DC men in general, or...?
Okay, well, one particular man at the moment.
Ah.
More dots, doing their dance. And then:
Remember what the Reverend Mother always says.
She smiles at the reference to their many, many childhood afternoons watchingThe Sound of Music– something that, despite their age gap, they would both enjoy: Stephanie would relate to Liesl or aspire to be Maria, and Lexi would cycle through Gretl, Marta, Brigitta, Louisa. They could both recite the entire film verbatim at this point, and Lexi knew what Stephanie meant. The Reverend Mother was a big fan of not running away from your problems but facing them head-on: hence the glass-shattering rendition of ‘Climb Every Mountain’.
Yeah, Lexi writes.I know.
But you should definitely come and visit soon.
Lexi’s finger hovers over the British Airways app. In this moment, she’s very tempted to book a one-way ticket, warbling Reverend Mother or not. It’s definitely been too long since she visited home; since she had any kind of break. No wonder she’s losing it slightly, or maybe more than slightly.
Book me a table at the India Grill. It’s been too long since I had a peshwari naan.
No problem. Call me later?
Lexi sends Stephanie a thumbs up and takes a deep breath. Even just the thought of speaking to her sister, of going home before too long– that should be enough to get her through the day. Providing, of course, that nothing else goes wrong. Which, these days, seems like a big thing to ask of the universe. It’s not even midday yet. There’s still plenty of time for bad news.
Chapter Forty-Two
Lexi is no good to anyone at the shop today, so she leaves early to catch her sister before it’s too late in the UK. And also a little bit to escape the weird vibe today: Tessa is putting on a brave and cheerful face for the customers and the other staff are being kind to her, but they all know what she’s doing is treachery of sorts. Lexi gets it, and the person she’s maddest at in all of this is unquestionably Sam, but it’s still a little icky and awkward– not least because she herself has been far more treacherous than Tessa has.
‘So,’ Stephanie says. ‘Spill. What’s up? You love DC. Something bad must be happening if you want to leave it all behind.’
‘Somethings, plural.’
Lexi can barely get through those two words without her voice cracking. It’s a good thing she foresaw this and brought a loo roll into her room for this call to wipe her eyes: more efficient than tissues, quite honestly, even if it’s somehow ten times more pathetic. She fills her sister in on pretty much everything, except for this morning’s weirdly charged confrontation: she’s not sure how to explain it, even to herself. She tells Stephanie about Sam, and the bookshop, and Erin, and how everything she loved about her life here is unravelling at once, pretty much like the loo roll she is clutching.
