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As the person turned, she realized the flash of orange wasn’t a high-visibility jacket. It was a carrot costume. And that was Shay. He had a fire extinguisher in his hand. Thank goodness. Would it be enough?

‘Thank God. You’re OK.’ He exhaled a sharp breath. ‘Get out the front with the others. Ring the fire services. I can handle this.’

‘I can’t expect you to …’

He jerked his head at the extinguisher. ‘I know what to do.’

‘But my books.’ Noémi’s eyes darted to the coffee table where she’d laid out her antique books, and then to the flames, which were spreading further with every second they debated it.

‘Your life,’ said Shay, with a sternness she had never heard from him. ‘Your real life. And this is no time for one of your “books are life” moments. Please.’ His last word was more like a bark, as though he’d already inhaled too much smoke.

Something inside her wanted to grab him and pull him outside with her. ‘What about you?’

‘Two minutes. I promise. Ring for help, just in case.’

It could only have been a matter of seconds that they looked at each other, his wide dark eyes pleading her to go and reassuring her all at once. It wasn’t safe to keep hesitating. Perhaps Shay’s inclination to keep moving made sense, just this once.

‘Be safe,’ she said quickly, stepping forward to grab his arm, her skirt dancing dangerously close to the fire.

He moved her back swiftly, muttering something about eejits and books. ‘Go.’

Then he turned, his attention on the extinguisher and the fire. To her relief, his hands knew what to do. She saw him pull the safety pin and aim the nozzle, squeezing the lever to expel white foam. Noting his sweeping movements seemed to be doing something, she backed out of the shop.

It was cold and already growing dark outside. Felix had an arm around a shivering Mrs Jingleman, and Daniel was looking shocked, a man Noémi didn’t recognize standing next to him. The other shops had shut for the evening, their lights off. Noémi must have lost track of time with her baking. Or lost control of her damned mind. What had she been thinking, dropping everything to faff around making cookies she had no plan for?

She patted herself down. Her mobile must still be in the kitchen. ‘Who’s got a phone? And who can tell me what happened?’

‘I’ve called the emergency services. They’re on their way.’ Daniel’s face was pale and guilt-ridden, his voice quiet. ‘I …’ He glanced at Shay’s shop. ‘It was my fault. I shouldn’t have left Felix and Mrs Jingleman alone. She was napping on an armchair and Felix seemed happy enough dusting shelves.’

‘You left the shop?’ Noémi’s forehead creased. ‘But why?’

The unknown man next to Daniel, who was a similar age and – now she looked at him properly – was extremely handsome, cleared his throat. Oh.

‘I think he saw me go into Shay’s shop and decided to follow,’ he said, with what sounded like a faint Italian accent. He flapped a hand. ‘Happens to me a lot.’

‘Right,’ said Noémi through gritted teeth, even though she wanted to scream at Daniel for being so reckless. Since when had he started getting easily swayed by strange men?

Noémi shot a glance at the bookshop window, but she couldn’t see inside. Wasn’t it dangerous to get close in case the glass exploded? And would it be risky to open the door again, with too much air fanning the flames? Her heart might actually be in her mouth.

She checked her watch. ‘Goddamnit, how long will the fire engine be?’ It had barely been minutes, but Shay was risking his life in there. For them. For her books. Well, probably not for her books. But if he did save them, she’d have to start being a whole lot nicer about his silly outfits.

‘I’m sorry,’ said Daniel. ‘I should go and help.’ He took a step forward.

‘No!’ Noémi yelped, thrusting out a hand to stop him. ‘Shay promised he could deal with it. It didn’t look too bad.’ She had no idea if that was true, but there was no sense in risking two precious lives.

‘I’d only been gone five minutes,’ said Daniel, his body now shaking. The unknown man placed his coat around Daniel’s shoulders. ‘We were talking in Shay’s shop, then I promised to look after the place while I chatted to Tommaso. Shay wanted to apologize to you about his event clashing with yours today.’

So that was his name. And perhaps that’s where Daniel had been slipping off to lately, and why Shay had greeted him like they were friends. She wanted to be outraged that Daniel had been lying and liaising with the enemy – though the enemy bit now seemed way off the mark. Daniel had taken his eyes off the ball … but so had she.

‘It was my fault,’ said Felix, sheepishly. ‘The fire needed more logs. I went to look. I must have taken the fireguard off. Poor Mrs Jingleman.’

Mrs Jingleman shrugged Felix off, mumbling something about her trolley.

‘No, Felix. It wasn’t you either.’ Noémi squeezed his shoulder. ‘I should be in charge, and the blame stops with me.’

Then she spun on her heel and marched towards her shop. Shay was still in there and it felt like too long. Something was pulling her back to him, regardless of the imminent hazards.

Chapter 23