Page 24 of The Bookshop at the Cornish Cove

‘Nance.’

I ignored it and the little tap came again.

‘Nance.’

This time the door burst open and Dennis filled the doorway. Rather nicely I must admit. Gosh, I had to stop thinking about him in this way, but he’d said those lovely things about me. I was confused. Did he really like me? I thought I was just the annoying bookshop owner that he felt he had to help because I lived in the same village as his nan.

‘You OK?’

‘Erm, yes thanks. I was just…’ I couldn’t think of a thing to say.

‘I think you should go to your mum’s now and collect all the painted shells.’

‘I can just bring a few in each day. They’ll all need packing up and wrapping carefully.’

‘No, let’s go now. I’ll come with you. Two hands are better than one.’

I held my hands up to him.

‘I already have two of my own, thanks.’

‘Don’t be contrary. You know what I mean. Come on, your mum says she’ll hold the fort while we nip back to yours.’

It was quite clear that he was taking no hostages. Dennis on a mission was not someone to challenge, so I grabbed my denim jacket from the hook behind the door, and when I failed to even find the armhole and made myself look like a total muppet, Dennis rescued me again, holding it behind me for me to slip my arms into.

Mumbling thank you, I stomped past Mum, like a sulky teenager, and headed back to my cottage. Mum and I didn’t live far from the bookshop so there didn’t seem much point in me ever really looking for anywhere else to stay, although there was quite a large flat above the shop which Dennis had been asking about. I said I’d show him later that day. The old owner used it as a storeroom and it was full of cobwebs and dust and needed a bloody good clean out. But when Dennis suggested it could either be used as more rooms for the shop, or even converted into a flat which brought in rent every month, it had got me thinking. I’d been in Gemma’s flat above the bistro and it was stunning. Maybe I could eventually do something like that here and move in – if I could afford to, that is. If not, I’d have to rent it out, but that would be a real shame. Imagine walking down the stairs to your very own bookshop. It was the stuff of dreams.

I turned the key in the front door of our house and told Dennis to wait in the lounge. Most of the shells were already packed away, in a couple of boxes which were kept on the top shelf of my wardrobe. My bedroom was a complete tip and Mum was always nagging me to tidy it up, but there was always something more interesting to do. A shell to paint, a book to read, a book to buy even.

Balancing on top of a footstool, I reached to grab the boxes and righted myself once I started to wobble. However, a coupleof seconds later, I completely lost my balance and fell, though I made sure that I was the one that landed on the floor first rather than the box of shells.

‘Fuck! That hurt!’ I muttered as I righted myself.

As I was rubbing my leg, I heard footsteps thunder up the stairs and the door burst open. Dear God, did this man never walk through a door properly? Why was his default setting to burst into a room and fill it completely?

He strode across the room and took the boxes off me.

‘Why didn’t you just ask me to help you, Nance?’ He tutted. One of my pet hates was tutting. It was something the kids in my class used to do and it drove me insane.

‘I don’t need your help, Dennis. I can do things on my own, you know. I’m not the weak, pathetic person you think I am. I don’t need you to rescue me all the time. How do you think I managed before you came to Driftwood Bay?’

He raised an eyebrow. I knew my words were harsh and that I’d raised my voice but I couldn’t seem to help myself. Dennis standing in my bedroom was freaking me out. And when he sat down on my bed, it was even more bizarre, especially after the dream I’d had last night. It was like he didn’t belong here, while at the same time it was like it was perfectly normal for him to be lowering himself onto my bed now. His face reflected how uncomfortable he was and when he ferreted about beneath him and realised that the culprit that was digging into him was a scarlet lacy bra, his face matched its colour.

‘I’ll be waiting downstairs,’ he said.

He picked up the boxes of shells, excused himself and went downstairs quicker than I’d ever seen him move.

After gathering my things together, I held my head high as I walked downstairs. I decided that, while it was nice he was thinking about me and my business and my future, it might be better all round if he stopped working on my shop as his littleside hustle and found himself something else to occupy his time. And yes, OK, while it might have been nice to know how it felt to kiss him and even to go out with him, he’d made it perfectly clear he was only in town for a short while, while he was taking a rest from his real world. The one in which he earned lots of money, wore designer suits, went on lavish holidays, and lived a completely different life to mine. Our worlds had collided but they were never aligning so it was time for me to realise this and move on, and stop thinking about how, in my dream, his body fitted perfectly into mine.

When I lifted the heavy boxes, which were actually really awkward to carry, that smirk appeared on his face again. Typical. Now would have been a really good time for him to help, but after my little outburst earlier, I couldn’t blame him for not coming forward. He stood to the side as I put the boxes down and pulled the door shut behind us. It had now turned into a battle of wills. He clearly wasn’t going to offer and I clearly wasn’t going to ask, even though I could hardly see over the top of the boxes.

‘Ready, Nance?’

‘Yep!’ I mumbled from behind the boxes.

When I tripped up over one of the cobbles, he took the top box from me without a word and I grumbled my thanks. It was so much easier when I could see where I was walking and also take in my surroundings. Being here in Driftwood Bay always lifted my heart and I tried to never take this amazing place for granted.

The harbour was bustling today, the late-autumn sunshine bringing out many of the locals. Boats were being scrubbed down, some owners packing things away for the winter months, doing the last few jobs that needed to be done before the boats were retired until the spring. Others were preparing to clear off to take in the winter sun in other parts of the world, preferringthe Mediterranean temperatures rather than the harsh Cornish winters that can sometimes be bestowed upon us. The drone of lawnmowers in the distance signified that people were also taking the opportunity to do an autumn mow, never quite knowing when the last one of the year would be.

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