Page 62 of The Battle of the Bookshops
A kindly nurse let Roman keep the scrubs, as his clothes were shredded and blood-soaked, and even more kindly provided a set for Jules so she didn’t have to resort to going home in her filthy pajamas. Even so, they both smelled like a barbecue and looked as if they had been up a chimney.
“Your place or mine?” quipped Roman half seriously, as they waited for Terry the Taxi to pick them up.
Jules took a deep breath of the sweet, fresh dawn air before she answered. It was going to be a beautiful day: the first rays of thegolden autumn sun were lighting the turning leaves. Everything looked brighter to her, the sky bigger, the future infinitely more optimistic as she slipped her hand into Roman’s.
“Mine, if that’s okay?” she said. “Aunt Flo will fret until she sees me with her own eyes.”
“Aye, aye,” said Terry, winding down the window as he drew up. “What on earth have you two been up to?”
He beadily noted the joined hands and grinned as he got out to open the door for Jules with an elaborate bow.
“Flippin’ heck,” he exclaimed as they related their tale. “I’d heard the shop had gone up. No one killed, which is a blessing and a bit of a miracle. Makes you realize what’s important, don’t it?” he added, giving Jules a knowing wink in the rearview mirror.
Flo came running far too quickly down the stairs, throwing her arms around Jules and pulling her into the tightest of hugs. For a woman who was not generally demonstrative, this illustrated enormous relief, thought Jules, feeling guilty at what she had put her through. After several seconds, Jules gently detached herself and held Flo at arm’s length. “I’m fine,” she told the old woman firmly. “Really and truly, I am. Actually”—she let Roman pull her into a sideways hug—“I’m more than fine.”
“Ah,” said Flo, clasping her hands tight as she looked at them both. “How lovely.”
“Not sure Mum’s going to agree,” said Jules, pulling a face.
“I’d pay good money to be there when you tell her,” joked Flo.
“We’ll make it a double bill,” chipped in Roman. “We can break the news to my dad at the same time and sell tickets.”
“But why are we just standing here, you must be starving,” Flo told them, chivvying them up the stairs to the flat. “When I heard you were on your way I popped over to Freya’s for croissants. Baked last night—they’re still warm.”
In the flat, they discovered Charlie, pushing down the plunger on the French press. “Coffee all around,” he said, taking in the body language between Jules and Roman. “So, you guys... ?” he went on, eyebrows raised.
Jules grinned shyly.
“Smooth.” He nodded contentedly, a grin spreading across his face.
The little round table in the sitting room was laid with a basket of croissants and pains au chocolat wrapped in a gingham napkin. There was also a dish with a big yellow pat of butter, a jar of homemade blackberry jam, and a jug of frothy, hot milk for the coffee.
Jules, who had been eating very little in previous weeks, tucked in greedily. It seemed even her appetite was heightened today. She listened, munching as Roman took the other two through the key points of the night, as they gasped, wide-eyed with shock.
“And you two,” declared Flo with an ecstatic smile, looking first at Jules, then Roman. “At least something good came out of it.”
Jules blushed, ducking her head, but she couldn’t seem to remove the smile from her face.
“You are bothsolucky to be alive,” Flo went on, putting down a piece of buttered croissant queasily as she reflected further. “I can’t begin to imagine...”
“Hey,” said Jules, putting her hand on top of Flo’s, feeling her soft skin and prominent bones with a twinge of angst. “We’re both fine.”
Then Jules noticed Roman stock-still, gazing out the window over to the scene of devastation on the other side of the street. There were traffic restrictions causing issues, now that the rush hour was at its height, and smoke still twisted from the blackened timbers, rising lazily into the blue sky. A lone fire engine was in attendance, with a small crew patiently raining water on the embers.
“I’m so sorry,” said Jules, tears of empathy springing into her eyes.
Roman roused himself from his reverie and looked around the table at the three of them. “Doesn’t matter,” he said briskly. “Just bricks and mortar at the end of the day.”
“But such a beautiful building,” said Flo. “And all the money you put into the refit. It was stunning.”
“It’s what insurance is for,” said Roman.
“That’s true. Was it...?” asked Jules anxiously.
“Yeah, pretty sure...” said Roman. “I’ve got to get back to the chapel at some point today. There are some bits of paperwork there that I can check. Fortunately, it wasn’t all in the office at the top of the shop.”
“And what about all the staff?” pressed Flo.
