What does he want?
I need to ignore him.
Luckily, a woman asks me to find a copy of a travel book on Athens. After guiding her towards the travel section, I notice he’s still looking at me. His new wife is busy flicking through a book, unaware.
A familiar face appears at my counter and distracts me. It’s Rosie Flint, the author who came in here to do a talk on her book on magic, and it was her who gave me the bay leaf advice.
‘I saw you at the till and thought I’d pop in to see if the bay leaves worked for your friend… the one with the curse?’
I’m about to tell Rosie Flint the truth about how the bay leaves didn’t work, that my friend is still struggling with her curse, and she needs to rethink her magic advice, when Miranda rushes over to the counter. She arrived an hour ago looked flustered.
‘Rosie, I’m sorry to hear about your husband,’ she says. ‘How is he doing?’
Rosie smiles. ‘He’s still in the hospital, but we think he can come home in a few days. It’s been a stressful time for us all.’
‘I’m so pleased,’ says Miranda. ‘I did worry when I heard about his accident.’ She surveys the bags Rosie is carrying. ‘They look heavy.’
Rosie nods and drops the bags to the floor with a thud. ‘I’ve been sorting out his late mother’s house. She passed away a few months ago, and he’s been meaning to take things to the charity shop for weeks but never got round to it. I was at a loose end, so I thought I’d make a start.’
Sam is heading for the counter. Oh, God. ‘Can you help me find a book, Nelly?’ he asks.
Miranda gestures for me to help him as she’s busy talking to Rosie.
An uncomfortable feeling passes over me as he smiles, continuing, ‘I’ve forgotten where the psychology books are in here. Could you show me?’
I point to the far end of the shop. ‘On the back wall.’
He shakes his head. ‘Take me there.’ To my surprise, he leans closer and whispers, ‘I want to talk to you.’ He glances back at his wife, who has her back to us. She’s engrossed in the sports romance books on Miranda’s latest display table, which bears the signRomances with hot, athletic people.
I’m sensing she isn’t aware of what he’s doing.
‘Hurry, Nelly, I don’t have much time. There are things I want to say.’
I blink at him, and he gestures for me to follow.
‘Come on,’ he whispers.
Reluctantly, I step out from behind the counter and, without looking where I’m going, fall over one of Rosie Flint’s charity bags. It tips over and spews its contents, a load of old books. ‘Sorry, Rosie, I’ll get them for you.’
I bend down to pick them up, and so does Sam.
‘I still find you attractive, Nelly,’ he whispers. ‘I’d love to see you… sometime.’
‘You’re married,’ I hiss.
He grins. ‘That’s never stopped anyone.’
I look at him, and something shifts inside me. I think about how much time I’ve wasted daydreaming about him. He will always be a cheat.
This is a helpful reminder to me that once you’re married, your other half can still think about straying while you have your head in a spicy romance about two horny ice skaters.
I’m about to tell him where he can shove his idea when I catch sight of an old cookbook within Rosie’s books. My chest tightens as I see the name of Barbara Plum on the spine. I grab it, clutching it to myself, my fingers curling around the worn cover. This is a miracle. I had almost given up hope. I can smell the vanilla-scented pages and faint trace of something baked with cinnamon long ago. Mr Ellis will be overjoyed. The thought of seeing him happy makes my heart swell.
Sam is watching me, with a confused look.
He’s waiting for me to say something.
‘Sam, go back to your wife. I’m not interested in married men.’
