Page 53 of The Bookshop at the Cornish Cove

‘Thank you,’ I said when he opened it.

‘You’re welcome.’

‘Can I come in now please, Dan?’

‘Are you going to stop moping?’

‘That’s rich coming from you. Moper of the year award. Every year!’

‘OK, so clearly you are feeling better. But for every insult you throw my way, that’s another half-hour on the decking. It’s for your own good.’

‘Dan, let me in!’

Silence.

‘Let me in!’

‘In a bit!’

Yes, I loved my brother, but God he was annoying.

An idea sprung into my mind and I left the throw on the rattan settee and climbed over the balustrade. The grass was cold and wet on my bare feet, but I ran around the lodge to the front and tried the front door. Ha! It was open.

I ran inside, jumping from one foot to the other. Dan was sat watching the TV.

‘Hey, sis.’ His super-friendly tone did not reflect the fact that he had just shut me out of the lodge.

‘You forgot to lock the front door. Loser!’

‘Or maybe I never intended to keep you out there all day. You could have walked around at any time and let yourself in. I never locked you out. I justputyou out. Very different.’

‘So kind!’

‘Anyway, I’ve run you a bubble bath. Get your arse in it. You stink!’

‘I do not.’ Despite my counterclaim, I sniffed my own armpit and admitted to myself that maybe I did smell a bit.

‘You do, Nance! You haven’t been near a shower for days. And you might want to wash your hair too. Just a suggestion.’

I walked over to my brother and gave him a hug, then breathed hard right into his face.

‘Jaysus, Nancy. Shrek breath or what?’

‘I think you mean Princess Fiona.’

He raised his eyebrows.

‘I think when you look in the mirror, you’ll realise that you look more like Shrek than her.’

I grinned as I headed off to the bathroom. I’d never been able to stay in a mood with Dan for long. He was kind and considerate and he was loving and wonderful. Sabrina didn’t deserve him and it broke my heart to think he knew no better or thought that behaviour like that was acceptable. Although now I’d had a taste of what love could be, maybe I understood him a bit more: perhaps he just lived for the good times and easily forgot the bad. Was that the secret of life? Or did we all deserve more?

Pondering this major philosophical question, I looked in the mirror, realising that it probably was best I washed my hair and got myself sorted out. A good soak in the bath was always good for my soul.

I had a little cry as the memories flooded my mind: of how it felt to fall asleep in Dennie’s arms and wake up to what I thought was the start of something special. But then I took a deep breath and washed that man right out of my hair.

As I walked back into the lodge lounge, which was cosy and warm, I knew that I not only looked better but felt better too.

‘Much improved! Well done.’

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