Page 36 of The Mended Hearts Bookshop

“I’m not sure I can help you with any of that,” Pen said as though nothing had happened. “I mean, Mary never mentioned a brother. But I’ll ask around. Maybe some other people in town know more than I do. Have you tried requesting her birth certificate? Or your father’s?”

“I didn’t think about that,” Ash said. “But I don’t know his first name, so that might not help.”

“If you don’t mind asking, what about your mum? Can’t she help?”

“She’s on a ‘round the world cruise. I haven’t told her anything, she’ll call me at some point, but I can’t get in touch with her at the moment.”

“Inconvenient timing,” said Pen.

“That would be my mother all over,” Ash said. “And I’m really not being nosy about Mary.”

“You are a bit,” qualified Pen. “But it’s alright, I can understand why.”

“I just…” Ash stopped and looked out over the sea. “I just wonder if we’re alike.”

Pen didn’t say anything and Ash started walking again. “Alright then, what about this presentation?”

As the breeze blew their hair, Pen filled her in on all the details, almost breathless with anticipation. “So, I’ll need your help,” she finished with.

Ash shook her head. “Oh, no.”

“No?” Pen asked, stopping in the sand.

“No,” said Ash firmly. “I’ll talk to the solicitor about a valuation and get a fair price for you, but that’s the extent of my involvement in all this. I don’t interfere with other people’s lives just like I don’t want them to interfere with mine.”

“But this isn’t interfering,” Pen started, staring up at Ash with big blue eyes.

“I mind my own business,” said Ash. “End of story. You want to make some presentation then I wish you all the luck in the world, but it’s none of my business.”

“Right,” Pen said.

She blinked and Ash thought that maybe she was going to cry. Her lip trembled a little until Ash wondered why on earth she was looking at Pen’s lips in the first place. She had no business doing that. She tore her eyes away and focused instead on the soft downy hair on Pen’s cheek, but that was no better. In the end, she went back to looking at the sea, that was a far safer bet.

“Right,” said Pen, pulling her arm away from Ash’s. “I suppose that’s just the way it is. I’ll deal with things with the council.” She bit her lip. “And, um, I’m late for crochet circle, so I’d better be going.”

She walked unsteadily away across the sand and Ash watched her go, wondering why she suddenly felt awful. She’d only told the truth, done what she always did. Yet for some reason, telling Pen she wasn’t going to get involved was a lot harder than telling anyone else.

Chapter Sixteen

Pen could hear the sound of the shower when she woke up. She could still hear it after breakfast. In the end, she splashed water on her face from the kitchen sink before hurrying downstairs to get the oven heated and her day started.

The morning was bright and cool and Pen tried to be her normal jolly self. She whistled as she moved sacks of flour, hummed cheerfully as she pulled frozen goods out of the freezer. But a little tiny piece of her was slightly dented.

For a minute there, walking along the beach last night, she’d actually thought that she’d cracked Ash’s hard shell. But obviously she’d done no more than scratch it and Ash was probably already in the process of repainting.

She sighed. Ash truly wasn’t interested in any kind of relationship, or was too damaged to accept any kind of friendship, or too stubborn, or too cold, or whatever her reasons were. And maybe, just maybe, it was time to leave her alone, to stop trying. You couldn’t force someone to be friends with you.

Besides, she’d probably be gone soon. At least if all went to plan. Pen tried not to think about doing all the work of presenting a plan to the council for buying the bookshop. She barely had time to think as it was.

By the time Lucy came downstairs, Pen had very nearly talked herself into a funk. Then she turned around to see Lucy wearing an old wrap skirt of hers that could just about be wrapped around her tiny waist three times and yet still only came half way down her thigh.

“You look like some kind of sixties mummy,” she cackled.

Lucy stuck her tongue out. “You said I could borrow what I like, and I like this.”

“I haven’t worn that for years,” said Pen, wiping her eyes. “You’re welcome to keep it, if you like.”

Lucy grinned for a second, then sighed. “Actually, I probably shouldn’t. I mean, I’m accepting a lot from you as it is.”

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