Page 16 of Book People

Luck with the ladies does not run in my family and I have no desire to test that luck anyway. So I take my appetites elsewhere.

Unfortunately, the object of that appetite is sitting opposite me and calmly talking about the two of us working together as if I was a plank of wood with no sexual interest in her whatsoever.

I fucking wish I were a plank of wood.

‘Excellent,’ I say, meaning the opposite and deciding that now is a good time to leave, since I can’t bear sitting here with her any longer.

But then, much to my horror, she reaches out and pushes aside the menu that I used to cover the book I was reading when she came into the pub, and glances at it. ‘Oh,’ she says. ‘I wondered.’ Her eyes sparkle even more. ‘I didn’t spot you for being a science fiction fan.’

I’m appalled at myself for letting slip such a basic secret and even more appalled at my own embarrassment that she found out what I was reading.

Because I meant what I said: I’m not a literary snob. After my mother died I started reading science fiction and dystopian books, because they took me right out of my reality and put me into a completely different one. Where I could forget about my grief at losing not only my mother to cancer but also my father to the bottle that he fell headfirst into after her death.

I still read those books when I need to escape, but it’s been my little secret for years. Not that anyone else would care, but I knew Miss Jones would and, sure enough, I can see that she’s pleased, as if she’s scored a point off me.

I want to show her I could score a point off her too, and maybe in a way that we’d both enjoy, but I’m not going down that path.

Instead, I calmly pick up my book. ‘Yes,’ I say. ‘Sometimes I like to read something different.’

I don’t say goodbye.

I get to my feet and stroll out.

Chapter Five

All the village says you’re reserved, but you aren’t. There’s a fire in you. They don’t see it, but I do.

C

KATE

I’m super-excited, I can’t lie. Mrs Abbot was a goddess to swan into the pub last night and basically shame Sebastian into including me in his festival. He didn’t want to. His reluctance was obvious, his bowing to the inevitable ungracious. But bow he did.

And not only that, but I managed to get some conversation out of him.

That, too, was reluctant and ungracious, and it felt like getting blood out of a particularly hard stone, but he gave it to me nonetheless.

Now I’m in Portable Magic and keen to head on over to Blackwood Books to have our little planning chat, but the sign on his front door has been turned to ‘Closed’ all morning and there’s no sign he’s in there.

It’s extremely aggravating and, really, just like him.

Then Aisling comes in with a box of vegan doughnuts and sets them on the counter, giving me a knowing look as she does so. ‘I saw you last night. At the Arms. With Tall, Dark and Brooding.’

‘I’d rather be Mrs Peacock in the library with the wrench,’ I mutter. ‘And have Sebastian Blackwood be the victim.’

Aisling shakes her red curls back and rolls her eyes. I’ve complained to her about him before. More than once. ‘Sure, sure. You hate him so much and yet you can’t leave him alone.’

I pull a face. ‘It’s not like that.’

‘Of course it isn’t. Just like he isn’t super-hot.’

I ignore this in favour of flipping open the box of doughnuts and examining them carefully. ‘I saw you too, you know. Having a quiet drink with your husband.’

Aisling smiles. ‘A surprise date. Ben organised a babysitter.’

‘Nice.’ I pick out a custardy lemony doughnut. ‘He’s a keeper.’

‘If you think I’m going to be distracted by you telling me what I already know about my husband, you’re wrong.’ She leans a hip against the counter. ‘Come on, take pity on a poor woman with a toddler, a business, a husband and no life. Gimme some exciting single-life goss.’

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