‘That’s good.’
‘I woke up early and thought I would go for a run.’ He wipes his sweaty forehead with his T-shirt, and once again I get to see those delicious abs.
I can feel my face reddening.
‘I need to get ready for work.’
As I pass, he steps out of my way. ‘I’m looking forward to tonight. Bed-sharing is becoming the highlight of my day.’
I glance back at him, and he shoots me a dazzling smile. It takes my heart a long time to recover.
33
‘Frank’s ex-girlfriend has gone into labour,’ Miranda announces as she arrives later than usual. ‘Her waters burst in the early hours.’
‘Oh – is she okay?’
‘She’s fine but doesn’t want Frank present at the birth. He’s at home frantically trawling Google for articles on how to be a father. While he was locked away in his study, I had to make his mother her soft egg and make sure she took the right medication.’
I watch Miranda dump her handbag on the till counter and let out a heavy sigh. It makes me recall my vision on her: how her love ends with Frank pushing a baby in a buggy. She’s been with Frank for over fifteen years, and this must be a shock. Even though she’s a nightmare boss, shares far too much about her love life, and acts like a lovesick schoolgirl when Oliver is around, she’s still human. Endings are painful and messy.
‘Are you okay, Miranda?’
She turns to me, and I can see her eyes are pink and watery. ‘I don’t want to be a stepmother, Nelly. I have never wanted kids, and this situation with Frank has not changed my view.’
‘Have you spoken to Frank?’
She nods. ‘He keeps saying that when I see his new baby, I will melt and have an urge to buy baby clothes, change nappies and stay up all night singing nursery rhymes.’
I know she keeps questioning what goes on inside Frank’s head, but I now find myself having the same thoughts. Miranda and small babies do not mix well. The other day, a woman had a baby in a buggy, and she couldn’t get it to stop crying. After five minutes, Miranda had to go lie down in the back room, as she claimed the noise had given her a migraine. If she doesn’t get her full eight hours’ sleep, she’s evil and hates getting her hands dirty.
‘I’m sorry, Miranda.’
A tear travels down her cheek, and she wipes it away. ‘I’ll be in the back room today. I have paperwork to do.’
I watch her walk away, shoulders stooped and head bowed. It’s bad enough seeing visions of heartbreak, but watching them play out before my eyes is harder. I sense that Miranda is going to unravel.
‘Hello,’ says a female voice. ‘I’m just wondering whether you have managed to locate my book.’ I turn to see Juliet standing by the counter.
‘Ah, I have a surprise,’ I say, reaching down under the counter. Earlier, I’d placed Oliver’s copy of the book there as I was going to call her later.
I lift out the book,Cartas del Ayer, Amor de Hoy. I googled the translation, and it means ‘Letters from Yesterday, Love from Today’.
Juliet’s face lights up as she studies the cover. ‘Wow – I can’t believe it’s his book.’
‘I take it you read Spanish?’
She smiles. ‘I’ve been taking evening classes for years, and I even have an A level in Spanish, so this will be a good read.’
‘Are you still planning to visit him?’
She nods. ‘Next month. It’s booked.’
The urge to touch her is strong but I hear Oliver’s words in my head:Give love a chance. If I touched her hand and saw something upsetting, I’m not sure I could refrain from telling her something. Perhaps I should leave it up to Juliet. She needs to discover how love ends for herself.
She smiles. ‘How much is the book?’
‘It’s a gift from Oliver James, the romance author.’
