The woman with the red and white glasses and blonde curly hair is at the front clutching the book she bought the other day. ‘I’d like to return this.’
I look down at the book,Summer Kisses at Sandcastle Bay. The cover is pristine, the spine uncracked, and there are no signs of dog-eared pages. ‘Sure, can I ask whether there is anything wrong with the book?’
She smiles. ‘Not with the book. With me.’
‘You?’
‘I can’t bring myself to read it.’
‘Oh.’
‘Once you go through a messy divorce, you never see love in the same light.’
She should try living with my curse.
‘I’ve lost faith in love, so I’m returning this.’
‘I think that’s a wise decision. Love only ends in heartbreak…’
She gives me a knowing nod. ‘You’re right.’
I point to the crime section. ‘We have some great serial killer fiction novels on display. A good alternative to romance.’
* * *
On the way home, I decide that it’s time to tell Oliver the flat share isn’t working. I wish I were a wild thirty-something-year-old like him, but I am not. I have a full-time job and a sick aunt who needs my support. Being exhausted every day is not enjoyable. Lenny will hate me, but I will just have to suffer his dark moods once Oliver goes.
Oliver is sitting on the sofa when I get home. He’s staring at a blank Word document. I watch as he glances up at me, leaps out of his seat and grabs something behind the sofa. He thrusts a bunch of tulips at me. ‘Nelly, I’m sorry about last night.’
‘You didn’t have to get me flowers.’
He bows his head. ‘I keep waking you up. I also smashed your mum’s vase. Jamie had a go at me earlier. It wasn’t pleasant.’
‘Oliver, this flat share arrangement isn’t working.’
He blinks, and his jaw tightens. ‘Not working?’
I nod. ‘You wake me up every night when you come home in the early hours. I am so tired all the time.’
He puts his head in his hands. ‘Oh, God, I’m sorry, Nelly.’
‘I love it that you’ve got a great social life here…’
Lifting his face from his hands, he casts me a bewildered look. ‘Is that what you think I am doing… socialising?’
I shrug.
He stands and runs a hand through his hair. ‘Please give me one more chance?’
Those dark and intense eyes of his have found mine. They are hard to ignore. It’s only the second week. Perhaps I’m being harsh?
‘One more chance – okay?’
A boyish smile sweeps across his face. ‘Great. I want to mend your mum’s vase.’
I blink and wonder whether I heard him correctly. ‘You want to mend my mum’s vase?’
A smile spreads across his face. ‘If you get me the pieces, I will put them back together.’
