Page 21 of Book People

Miss Jones raises an eyebrow. ‘Well? Are you thinking of some kind of snobby putdown or are you astounded by my brilliance?’

‘Both,’ I say, and it’s no less than the truth. A snobby putdown to distance her because Iamastounded by her brilliance and all I want to do is pull her close and kiss her sweet mouth.

I am a bloody idiot. Of epic proportions.

‘But I can’t deny that it is a brilliant suggestion,’ I say.

‘Why, thank you, good sir,’ she says, and gives the most adorable curtsey.

I am also so,sofucked.

At that moment the bell above the door chimes and Dan comes in.

Dan is one of my closest friends – I should say myonlyclose friend – and he’s the WychtreeGP. We were at school togetherand we both applied to get into medicine and, while I dropped out, he didn’t.

He admires me for it, though I can’t think why, since he makes far more money than I do. He always says he went into medicine because he couldn’t think of anything better to do and wishes he had a vocation, like me. A vocation, though, is a curse. It rides you hard, sinks its claws in: no matter how badly you want to throw it off, you can’t. It’s deep in your cells, in your blood, and, yes, like I said, you’re fucked.

Dan is smiley and pleasant, unlike me (I would have made a terrible doctor), and he smiles pleasantly at Kate as he approaches the counter. ‘Morning, Kate,’ he says warmly, then, to me, much more casually, ‘Morning, Bas.’

Dan, like me, is single.

I find myself bristling at the way he’s smiling at her for absolutely no reason. ‘Miss Jones and I were just discussing the festival,’ I say, with far more belligerence than the situation warrants, especially with my best friend. ‘I’ll text you later.’

Dan gives me a surprised look, as well he might since I’m just about biting his head off. ‘No drama,’ he says. ‘Only wanted to see if you were up for a pint tonight.’

‘Yes, yes.’ I am brisk. Too brisk. ‘I’ll text you.’

He frowns slightly, then glances at Miss Jones, andof coursehe knows exactly what’s going on with me now. This is the problem with close friends. They know you far too well.

Miss Jones is standing there glittering and sparkling, giving him the widest, brightest of smiles. ‘Did you get the latest newsletter?’ she asks him. ‘I’ve just got a new shipment of thrillers you might enjoy.’

Dan’s smile abruptly disappears. As well it might.

So . . . there is anewsletter. And he’s subscribed to it.

‘Traitor,’ I mutter.

Dan looks sheepish, while Kate glances from him to me and back again, as if she has no idea what’s going on. Then it dawns.

‘Oh,’ she says. ‘Oh.’

I am rigid with offence. ‘You order books from her? Fucking hell, Dan.’

He continues to look sheepish for about a nanosecond longer, then he shrugs. ‘The newsletter is how I find out about all the new releases. It’s really great. I like a thriller, you know that.’

Miss Jones is watching us and, to give her credit, she’s looking a bit sheepish too. ‘Sorry,’ she mutters, though who to I can’t tell. ‘I’d better go. I need to find Lisa’s email address and email her.’

She leaves, and I’m sure it’s my imagination that my bookshop is a little less bright now she’s not in it.

‘Okay,’ Dan says, giving me a sly grin. ‘NowI get why you’ve been in such a foul temper the last couple of months.’

I refuse to engage inthatconversation. ‘I’m in debt up to my eyeballs and you’re ordering books? Fromher?’ I know I’m repeating myself but I don’t care.

‘Yes.’ Dan is unbothered. ‘Have you ever tried to find new thrillers online? It’s a bloody nightmare.’

I grind my teeth. ‘Fine. But you should order through me.’

He lifts a shoulder. ‘I order my medical books through you and you know how bloody expensive those things are.’

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