Page 25 of The Mended Hearts Bookshop

Ash came downstairs with her nose in her book and narrowly avoided tripping over the cat, which was lying on the third stair from the bottom.

“Jesus Christ,” she said. “I thought you’d been evicted.”

“I told you,” said George. “It’s his home. He doesn’t want to leave. Besides, you can’t have a cat called Fabio anywhere other than a romance bookshop, can you?”

“He’s going to have to get used to being elsewhere,” Ash said crisply. She eyed George. “You’re here early.”

“It’s almost half past nine,” he said. “What are you reading?”

“Nothing.”

“Is that…” George craned his neck to see. “Huh, A Crown of Hearts and Desires. It was alright, what do you think?”

Ash felt herself blush. “I only took it because I didn’t bring a book with me.”

“You’re a bookseller, at least temporarily,” George said. “It’s sort of expected that you read the stock. And you didn’t answer my question.”

“It’s alright, I suppose,” said Ash, putting the book down.

“A rave review then.”

She sighed. “Listen, it’s fine. If you want the honest truth, I like the actual story, the plot is sound and I want to know what happens next. It’s the romance I’m having a problem with. I just don’t believe it, and I think it’s ruining the book.”

“Fair enough.” He walked over to another bookshelf and picked up a book. “Here, try this one when you’re done. It might speak to you more.”

She looked at the colorful cover and shrugged. “Fine. Now, in terms of what you need to be doing today, I want a full stock-take so I know what’s on hand and, obviously, you’ll be dealing with the customers.”

“Um, yeah, that’s not going to work.”

“And why not?” asked Ash. She’d turned on the computer already and was searching for genealogy websites.

“Because most of our stock is downstairs in the cellar and customers tend to be up here. I can’t be in two places at once,” George said. “So, if you wouldn’t mind a suggestion, perhaps I’ll go down and do the stock-take and you stay up here and deal with customers.”

Ash stared at him, running her tongue over her teeth. “Because you think that my face should be the face that customers see?”

“Unless you’re planning on hiring more staff,” said George. “Or you magically know how to run a stock-check in a bookshop.” He considered her for a moment. “And you don’t have a bad face, at least you don’t when you smile, which I’ve seen you do precisely once since you’ve arrived.”

“Is cheek all a part of the service, or am I supposed to pay you extra for that?”

“I’ll bill you,” he said. “And Pen thinks you’ve got a nice face, just by the way.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing,” George said hurriedly, blushing a little. “Listen, it’s Monday morning, the shop’s going to be quiet, you’re not likely to have to deal with many people. And if you get stuck, then just shout down to the cellar and I’ll come up and help you.”

“Fine,” Ash said, her attention taken up by the list of results on the screen in front of her. “I suppose that’ll have to do.”

George disappeared down to the cellar and as it turned out, he was completely correct. Not a single person came in all morning, leaving Ash free to do all the genealogical research that she wanted. Not that she turned up much.

She really needed to talk to her mother, she decided over lunch. Not that that was going to happen any time soon.

IN FACT, IT wasn’t until much later that anyone came to the shop at all. George had left for the day, having done part of a stock-check and some of the online orders. Ash was about to take herself out for a walk, and was searching for the cat so that she could deposit him at the bakery next door on her way, when someone tried the shop door handle.

“We’re closed,” she shouted, ducking behind a shelf to see if the damn creature was hiding there.

Whoever it was knocked once and then twice. Ash gritted her teeth. She could make a solid guess who was going to be there. It had to be Pen, with her annoying smile and delicious biscuits. Maybe even a cake this time.

Ash’s stomach rumbled with hunger. “No,” she said to herself. “I’m not doing this.” If she ignored the knock for long enough, Pen would go away.

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