Page 14 of The Battle of the Bookshops
“Careful what you wish for,” she counseled. “It’s not even Easter yet. You wait until we hit the summer rush before you write us off.”
Jules dearly hoped Flo was right, but the accounts said otherwise, and the mood music seemed unrelentingly bleak. She was relieved to be given a distraction, one quiet and rainy afternoon. She was alone in the shop, with Flo having gone into the back for a nap, when Freya popped into the shop carrying a white cardboard box.
“I’ve got tarte au chocolat, if you’re interested,” Freya said shyly, “mainly because I was wanting to ask a big favor.”
“I’ll do an embarrassing amount in return for chocolate,” admitted Jules. “And for heaven’s sake, don’t let anyone know what I would be prepared to do for salted caramel.”
“I’ll bring that next time,” promised Freya. “No strings.”
“Come on then, ask away...?” Jules mumbled a minute later, through a heavenly mouthful of chocolate tart and crème fraîche.
“Okay, so... me and Finn...,” Freya began, looking down at her hands, a secret smile spreading across her face.
Jules swallowed. “Don’t leave me hanging,” she implored. “You’re either pregnant or engaged. Which is it?”
“First things first,” said Freya, laughing now, and holding out her left hand for Jules to admire the beautiful diamond and sapphire ring that adorned her fourth finger.
“Well, of course,” said Jules, bouncing up and down a little on her seat, “marriage first, kids later. Gosh, you’re posh,” she teased.
It felt like things had moved fast, and maybe they had; Julesknew that Freya and Finn had gotten together properly only last Christmas. Three months, nearly four... But, she supposed, when you know, you know. How lovely to be that certain about another human being. She couldn’t imagine it.
“Honestly, that’s amazing!” she exclaimed, recollecting herself and getting up to give Freya a chocolaty kiss and a hug. “Such exciting news! I want to know everything. Spill.”
Freya ducked her head. “Well, we’re not going for a big, flashy wedding,” she said, words tumbling out in a rush, “just the town hall, with a disco or something afterward. Listen, I know this sounds mad, cos it’s really not some big production, but...” She took a deep breath and then blurted out, “I’d love you to be my maid of honor?” She pulled a hopeful, apologetic face, wincing in anticipation of a negative response.
For a moment, Jules just gazed at her slack-jawed, and then she pulled herself together. “Of course, I will,” she said, putting her hand over Freya’s and giving it a squeeze. “It would be a pleasure, even though I’m going to have to google what to do.”
“Beats me too,” admitted Freya. “It’s kind of like best man, but for the bride. I dunno, just maybe help me choose a dress, make sure I get there on the day, stuff like that.” Freya’s eyes filled with tears, and she pulled an apologetic face, dabbing her eyes with her fingertips.
“Oh God, your mum,” said Jules, instantly understanding and giving Freya’s arm a comforting squeeze.
Freya nodded, sniffing and tipping her head back as if to encourage the tears to drain away. “Sorry, it’s just... she waited all her life for this—giving away her daughter on her wedding day... And she just missed knowing that me and Finn... she would have loved him so much.”
“I feel bad I didn’t get back for the funeral,” said Jules guiltily. She remembered the stormy look on her boss’s face when she hadwondered out loud about taking a long weekend to attend and had quickly capitulated. Now she felt like the crappiest friend ever.
“That’s okay, honestly,” said Freya sweetly. “I didn’t expect it. All the way from London—and your job...”
“Yeah, but still,” said Jules. It had suddenly struck her, in that moment: no job was more important than the people you loved. None. “I really loved your mum. We all did.” It was true. It had been the comparing and contrasting of Freya’s mum with her own that had led to her adult understanding of Maggie’s inadequacies—her inability to parent. It was an important realization. She and her mum drove each other insane, but she supposed she should be grateful that Maggie was still in her life, even though that often didn’t feel like a plus.
“I’m so lucky to have Finn now,” said Freya, sniffing and palming away the last of her tears. “He and his family have been amazing to me. I couldn’t have got through it all on my own.”
Jules had only dim memories of Finn. All she knew was that they had both had a massive crush on him. He had been one of the cool crowd, loitering in the corner with his mates at that grubby nightclub, Rumours, they all hung out at on the quay. As far as she could recall, he had been a bit arrogant and full of himself—come to think of it, he and Roman had been friends, so... same—but then she was bound to have thought that, not being remotely cool herself at the time. Or since.
“Do you still go to Rumours?” Jules asked.
“What a dive!” recalled Freya. “Not recently. It’s still there, though.”
“You should definitely have your hen party there.”
“Hmm, maybe,” said Freya. “Or Sails. That’s a bit classier.”
“It is?”
“It’s a low bar...” Freya admitted.
“Hang on,” said Jules, “why aren’t you asking Hattie? I mean, Ilove you to bits, and I’m totally honored, but you and Hattie were always inseparable.” She was being kind. There had been times when Jules had felt like the third wheel around Hattie and Freya. Hattie hadn’t done much to alleviate the feeling either, Jules recalled, although Freya would never be deliberately unkind. It wasn’t in her nature.
Freya blushed. “I would probably have had you both,” she said diplomatically, “but Hattie’s already bought herself a round-the-world ticket. She’s off at the end of the month—so exciting for her!—and she won’t be back before the end of the year, maybe not even then, if things go well, so...”
