Page 11 of The Vanishing Bookstore
‘Hey, I thought you weren’t open. This is the second time I’ve been past today, and the lights were on.’
George was standing there, smiling. She’d known it was him or she smelled it was him before he’d even spoke.
‘I’m not open, I told you this earlier, why are you here?’
Katie looked at her open-mouthed. Dora knew she was being incredibly rude but there was something about him that unsettled her.
‘Oh, thanks, I just wanted to say hello again.’
Katie was smiling at him. ‘Hello, I’m Katie. Dora’s friend. We’re not open, she’s been teaching me how to run the shop.’
Dora glared at Katie, who stopped talking. George walked towards Katie, holding out his hand, and she giggled and held hers out. Without a second’s pause he took it in his and lifted it to his lips, brushing his mouth against the skin in what Dora could only describe as a seductive way. Every hair on the back of her neck began to prickle with unease.
‘Oh, how lovely and very exciting. Not only is this the sweetest little flower shop, it’s also run by two of the fairest maidens of them all.’
He tilted his head ever so slightly, staring at her, and Dora felt such a strong wave of déjà vu rush over her that her knees buckled, and she had to lean against the counter.
‘I’m sorry, George, like I said I’m not open. In fact, we’ve finished up for the day and going home.’
‘Even better, let me buy you two ladies supper. I know a lovely little Italian place tucked away behind Belmont Road, it takes you back to a time when food was simple and life a lot less complicated. The ravioli is to die for, and they do a house wine that tastes as good as an expensive bottle of Chianti.’
He was smiling at them both and she knew that Katie was smitten. It didn’t take much for her to fall in love; she’d been this way since college.
‘I’m sorry, we can’t. Another time perhaps.’
Katie turned to stare at Dora, then turned back. ‘I’m not busy, I’d love to, but I completely understand if it’s Dora you’re trying to ask out even though you’re doing a terrible job at it.’
He laughed then; a deep laugh that sounded so familiar.
‘Well, that would be lovely, and no, I’m really not asking anyone out. This is just me being a gentleman. Dora, maybe another time.’
He winked at Katie and held out his hand. Katie practically tore the apron off over her head and threw it on the counter as she crossed towards him. Taking her hand, he led her to the door, leaving Dora feeling as if she shouldn’t let her friend go on her own with him. Katie blew her a kiss with a huge grin on her face.
‘See you tomorrow, Dora.’
Dora nodded, not sure what was going on but feeling as if she was sending her friend away to be eaten by a great whiteshark. George turned back to look at Dora and winked at her, then they were gone. Dora rushed to the window and peered out. They were walking down the alley, George’s arm linked through Katie’s as if they were old friends. Part of her wanted to rush after them and join them. What if he asked Katie about her? Katie couldn’t hold her own water – after a couple of glasses of wine, she’d probably tell him everything about Dora including her bra size and her last disastrous boyfriend. She didn’t like the feeling of not knowing what they were going to talk about, especially if it involved Katie telling him Dora’s darkest secrets.
Grabbing her coat, she tugged on her hat, picked up the flowers George had bought her earlier to show Lenny and locked the shop. She could just make out their shapes as they were about to turn the corner and Dora did something she had never in her life done before, she followed them. She knew the Italian place he was talking about, why hadn’t he said he was taking them to Marco’s? They’d be lucky to get a table at this time of day anyway, it was always packed with the teatime rush. She hurried after them, wondering if she should tell them she’d changed her mind. But did she really want to sit and make polite conversation for the next couple of hours?
When she reached the narrow side street where Marco’s was situated, she peered around the corner like some undercover cop or private investigator. She’d expected to see them queuing to get a table but they were nowhere to be found. Now she was torn. Did she walk past and check they were inside, maybe join them, or did she go home? She had to check he’d taken Katie where he said he would, so she strolled past the busy bistro and there they were, sitting at the bar waiting for a table, a carafe of house wine in front of them. George was sitting particularly close to Katie; in fact, his knee was pressing against hers and Katie had her hand on his thigh. Dora carried on walking, deciding to leave them to it. What kind of man behaved that way when theirgirlfriend wasn’t even buried? What a creep, she would tell Katie tomorrow… And then she stopped herself. Tell her what? Katie was a grown woman just like her, she could do whatever the hell she pleased. This was nothing to do with Dora, if George wanted to flirt with her best friend there wasn’t much she could do about it, was there? So why did she have a feeling that something was wrong?
7
Dora let herself into Lenny’s apartment. It didn’t matter how many times she did this, it always felt as if she was an intruder. Even though she’d lived here as long as she could remember, it was expensive, luxurious, and she often wondered how Lenny could afford such a beautiful home that overlooked the Thames and the South Bank. She could see the London Eye, its neon pink lights in the distance. She loved the South Bank; spending time browsing the second-hand book market was one of her favourite things to do. She had a passion for books that rivalled her love of all things floral.
Opening the wardrobe door, she kicked her shoes inside, hanging up her coat and hat, then took the flowers George had given her to the sink. Forget-me-nots were for true love, periwinkles for everlasting love. Did he know about the meanings of the flowers he’d chosen or was it just a coincidence? Filling the sink with water, she put them in it until she’d had a quick shower. Her thumb and finger were throbbing where she’d torn the skin and she felt as if she needed to soak the day away under the hot jets of spray and a good dose of disinfectant. There was something rather disconcerting about George and she couldn’t make up her mind what it was.
She stopped mid-removal of her leggings.Disconcerting, where on earth had that come from? She never used words like that, she hadn’t realised that she knew words like that. Stripping off the rest of her clothes, she stepped into the shower enclosure, which was almost as big as her bedroom, and under the multiple warm jets that sprayed from every angle possible. She closed her eyes and sighed; this was far better than bathing in an icy-cold stream. ‘When have you ever had to bathe in a cold stream, Dora?’ she whispered, her voice drowned out by the noise of the water.
When she had steamed the bathroom up sufficiently, she wrapped a fluffy black towel around her head and slipped her soft, cosy dressing gown on. She was hungry so she wandered into the kitchen where Lenny was bending over the sink, her fingers holding the flowers. Lenny straightened, letting go of them.
‘Strange choice of flowers, even for you. Where on earth did you find these this time of year?’ She was pointing to the forget-me-nots and periwinkles.
‘They were a gift.’
Lenny turned, her green eyes staring directly into hers. ‘Oh really, a gift from who?’
‘The guy who I put my foot in it with about his dead girlfriend yesterday.’
