“You’re upset and vulnerable and I’m in your flat and… and…”
“And there was nothing inappropriate in the slightest about what you did,” Pen said calmly standing up. “You have my full consent, if that’s what’s worrying you.”
Ash paused, looking uncomfortable. “I, uh, I didn’t mean…” She took a breath. “Actually, I don’t know what I meant, if I’m being honest. Is that terrible?”
Pen bit her lip. She’d rather like another kiss, but she could see that Ash was honestly having trouble with this. “Out ofcuriosity, when did this conversation with George happen that resulted in your lesbian revelation?”
“This morning,” Ash said. “Why?”
“Because most of us have a lot longer than that to get used to the idea,” Pen grinned. “And whilst I very much agree with kissing, and admire your go-getter attitude in that regard, perhaps you need to take a step back and think about things?”
Ash sat back down again. “Yeah, yeah, that makes sense,” she said, rubbing her face. “Um, sorry if I came on too strong.”
“You didn’t at all,” Pen said, sitting back down too and taking her hand. “I like you, Ash, I’ve liked you since you moved in, I’m not going to hide that. But I’m equally not interested in taking advantage of someone vulnerable.”
“You like me?” Ash said. “But… why? All I do is shout at you and throw you out of the book shop.”
“True,” Pen said. Squeezing Ash’s hand. “But I’m of the opinion that your bark is worse than your bite.” Ash’s hand felt nice in her own, perfect and smooth. “Listen, you’re going to help me get my problems sorted out, so why don’t I help you with this?”
“With… this?” Ash said doubtfully. “You mean the gay stuff? Is there a lot to learn? Because, you know, I could just be celibate.”
“Which would be a great loss to the world,” Pen said solemnly. “But we could, I don’t know, hold hands and things, go really slowly, and you could figure out if it’s something you really want.”
“Would there be more kissing?” asked Ash, her eyes twinkling.
“There might be,” Pen said, hoping very much that there would be.
“And in return you’ll accept my help and stop burying your head in the sand like some kind of demented ostrich?”
“I will,” promised Pen. “And your first lesson is that calling women demented ostriches is not the way to their hearts.”
“Got it,” Ash said. “And your first lesson is that there’s no way you can afford an employee or a non-paying lodger.”
“Oh god. Lucy.” Pen’s heart sank. “I can’t just throw her out.”
“You can’t,” agreed Ash. “But we do need to make other arrangements. So while I take all these bills back to the bookshop and figure out what’s what, you need to make some phone calls and see who might have a job for Lucy, got it?”
“Got it,” Pen said, feeling sad and small until Ash wrapped her up in another hug that made the world seem better again.
“SHE’S ALSO VERY tall,” said Mr. Gupta approvingly.
“Which is important because?” asked Pen.
Mr. Gupta took his coffee and croissant. “Because she will be able to reach the top shelves that I myself cannot reach.”
“I am right here,” Lucy said, sliding Mr. Gupta a napkin. “Although I suppose I am quite tall. I’ve never had that listed on my CV though.”
“What I meant was that I think you would be perfect for the job,” said Mr. Gupta. “If you’re interested, that is? My wife has been complaining for months now that she wants to spend more time with the grandchildren. It would be a perfect solution for us all, I think. You could start on Monday, I offer a fair wage and half days on Wednesdays.”
“It sounds wonderful,” Lucy said. “As long as you don’t mind, Pen?”
“It sounds like a great opportunity,” said Pen, relieved that Lucy was taking leaving so well.
“There is only one caveat,” Mr. Gupta said sternly. “You may eat only a maximum of fifty pence a day in pick-and-mix sweets, no more!”
Lucy laughed. “That sounds very fair,” she said. “I’ll look forward to it.”
Mr. Gupta nodded in satisfaction. “In that case, I’m about to make my wife a very happy woman, so my thanks to you, Penelope.”