This must be what it’s like to be famous.
‘The six o’clock segment will be live,’ Blair said as a camera crew arrived.
Quinn nodded, shocked he was about to be on BBC News.
‘Do you want me to be there?’ Ivy asked. She was being polite. He knew she worried he would fuck it up. ‘I’ll wait behind the scenes, ready to jump in,’ she said, before he could say anything else.
All Quinn could think about was the interview, which was creeping towards him. He felt like a drag queen standing before RuPaul at the deciding lip sync, waiting for the words ‘good luck, and don’t fuck it up.’
Only Ivy was RuPaul as she continued to fret about the appearance. The usually calm, centred, and grounded Ivy had been replaced with a woman he didn’t recognise.
‘Ivy, breathe,’ Quinn said, after she knocked over a green tea and a stack of books. Thankfully, the books weren’t damaged. ‘You’re making me nervous.’
‘I’m sorry, it’s just … this is the moment!’
Her phone rang and pinged all day. Emails, texts, calls from other news outlets, all of which wanted Quinn to speak to them first.
‘BBC gets first rights in this case, my boy,’ Bloody Blair Beckett said to Quinn.
Quinn let Ivy take over selling stock on what proved to be a very manic, busy day. As it turns out, when people think they’re going to lose something, they buy, buy, buy, hoping an influx of sales will prove its importance to the town. Daniel Craig hadn’t answered his calls and had texted an apology that he was ‘at a friend’s house’. Quinn didn’t mind. It was his day off and he wouldn’t be the type of boss that demanded staff come in on their day off.
Quinn had one of the busiest days he’d had in a while – people bought stacks of books, with some sales bringing in as much as £300. Ivy refused help, even when she was juggling sales and phone conversations with journalists at the same time.
Blair mingled around, under the pretence of getting ready for his live, but Quinn knew he basked in being Britain’s hottest and most popular television presenter of the moment. Quinn got sick of the swooning from the customers, and sick of himself for swooning too.
As six o’clock approached, Quinn asked about having the customers leave the shop, but Bloody Blair Beckett insisted they stay. ‘Makes for an interesting live!’
Ivy acted as the doorman and stopped more customers from entering. Quinn hoped Noah might appear, but his heavenly body didn’t walk through the door.
It was six o’clock. The moment of truth. Blair’s live hit for the headlines went smoothly, mainly because it didn’t require Quinn to be on camera. Nerves took hold of him as he watched Blair talk, and he felt sick.
‘I can’t do this.’
Blair wrapped a brawny arm around Quinn with a smile on his face, his lovely aftershave aroma engulfing them both. ‘Yes, you can. Just follow my lead.’
Quinn got into place, Blair’s face one of concentration. He was apparently ‘in the zone’, Ivy whispered from behind the lens. Quinn forced a smile.
The camera was on them, and in the background was the frosted glass window and a group of customers standing outside, with some of them holding signs of protest – protest that the shop faced closure, not that he was about to speak to the nation like a Prime Minister begging for votes. Quinn glanced behind him, and with dread, saw Harold forcing his way to the front of the shop.
‘Ivy.’ He gasped, moving away from Blair with the intention of stopping Harold.
‘I’m on it.’
She tore to the front of the shop, heading to the window, as Blair spoke.
‘That’s right, well, as you know, I’m meant to be on holiday here in Hay-on-Wye and I believe fate has led me to Quinn and his bookshop, Kings & Queens, which is being threatened with closure just days before Christmas.’ Blair strolled through the shop, walking past customers, and joined Quinn. Quinn glanced behind him, seeing Ivy panic, moving back and forth, unsure if she should stay on camera or disappear. Harold began knocking on the glass door, to which Ivy squealed.
‘Quinn, tell us what’s going on.’
Could he not hear the noise of Harold?
‘They have given me a final eviction notice for my shop here in Hay,’ Quinn began as Harold began pounding on the glass with two hands. ‘Um, because of the castle. The castle is refurbishing and they want to close my shop here and turn it into an information booth.’
Blair nodded with enthusiasm. ‘And why is this shop different from all the other bookshops here in Hay?’
‘Well…’ Quinn began.
‘Quinn, stop talking!’ Harold’s muffled voice came from outside. He barged past the crowd towards the door. Ivy followed him, still on camera. She tripped over a box of books, letting out a yelp, before plummeting to the floor.
