Page 12 of The Vanishing Bookstore
‘Hang on, a customer came to see you about a wreath but ends up bringing you flowers. How odd.’ There was a look of concern on Lenny’s face.
‘I’m glad you think so too. He’s weird but he smells divine. And anyway I refused his offer of supper at Marco’s, so he took Katie instead.’
A look of alarm crossed Lenny’s face and Dora was suddenly piqued to know why.
‘What’s the matter?’ asked Dora.
‘Nothing, it’s just a bit strange. Has he said anything to you?’
‘About what? Come on, I’m not a gifted psychic. I haven’t got a clue what you mean.’
Her aunt shrugged. ‘Nothing, I’m just being silly. That was nice of him in a peculiar way. Did you speak to Katie about the shop?’
‘I did better than that, I’ve spent all afternoon supplying her with tea and showing her how to run it and make up simple bouquets.’
‘Really?’
Dora grinned. ‘Really.’
Lenny laughed.
‘Phew, what a relief then, you’re coming home with me.’ She began walking towards the bedroom and Dora shouted.
‘Coming home, I thought you were going on a work trip to Salem?’ Lenny turned around; her normally alabaster cheeks were tinged hot pink. ‘Where exactly is home?’
‘Did I say home? Blimey, I must be more tired than I thought, it’s just a slip of the tongue, dear. I meant Salem, it’s my turn to talk rubbish.’
She smiled at her then disappeared into her bedroom, closing the door behind her. Which was a signal to Dora that she was not to be disturbed. Her Aunt Lenny didn’t have many rules, but the main ones were: do not enter her room if the door was shut; do not tell lies; and do no harm to anyone. Dora had always found that last one a little odd, but she obliged. She wasn’t the harming kind of person anyway. Her aunt had been the mother she’d never known so there was no chance she was going to upset her and make her mad enough that she’d tell her to pack her bags and leave.
Crossing to the fridge, she took out the milk and poured some into a pan. Warming it on the hob, she added a couple of squares of white chocolate, a dollop of fresh cream anda few drops of vanilla essence. As she stirred it slowly, she remembered a time she used to stand over an open fire, tending a cast-iron pot over the flames. Closing her eyes, she could feel the coldness of the air around her in the wooden shack she called home. It was draughty, old and had barely any furniture, but it smelled wonderful, the aroma of lavender, mint and rosemary filling her nostrils. And then she smelled burning milk as the hot liquid boiled over the side of the pan and onto the electric hob, sizzling loudly.
‘Aaah, bloody hell.’
Lenny’s door opened and she popped her head out, her nose wrinkling at the stench of burning liquid. Satisfied the flat wasn’t on fire she shut the door again. Dora moved the pan off the heat and surveyed the mess. Her hot chocolate was definitely hot and if she was lucky she’d have half a mug instead of a full one. Grabbing a tea towel, she wrapped it around the handle and tipped the boiling mixture into her mug, then placed it out of reach while she set about cleaning up the mess. Opening the cupboard, she took out the cleaning spray her aunt insisted on making by hand and sprayed it liberally all over the hob. It sizzled along with the burnt milk, but when she ran the dishcloth under the hot water tap, added a dollop of washing-up liquid and swiped it over the offending hob the burnt milk lifted with ease, leaving the hob clean.
‘It’s like magic,’ she whispered, smiling to herself that she’d cleaned up without ruining anything.
Taking the mug, she went into her room and lay on the super-sized bed without closing the blinds. She stared out of the window at the twinkling lights across the South Bank. She had no idea what was going on or where these sudden jolts of memories were coming from, or if they even were memories, but it was making her tired. She was excited to go to Salem, just the thought of going on an actual holiday was what was making herstomach churn with nerves, that and the worry that Katie might have made a mistake in going out with George. Picking up her phone, she rang her friend’s number.
‘Hey, what’s up, Dora? You should have come to Marco’s, it was delicious and free. You know free food is the best, it tastes divine.’
Dora sat up. ‘Where are you?’
‘At home, why?’
‘Alone?’
‘Yes, of course, what do you think I am? Do you think I give out on a first date?’ Katie’s laughter filled her ears and her shoulders relaxed; she lay back on her bed.
‘You didn’t take him home with you then?’
‘Dora, no I did not. And besides, it’s quite clear he’s a little besotted with you.’
‘Why?’
‘It was like the Dora show for the whole time we were eating. How old are you, where do you live, have you got a boyfriend, what kind of guys do you like, blah, blah, blah. To be honest it got a bit boring. I downed the wine, finished my carbonara and made an excuse to leave.’
Dora’s entire body had gone bone-chillingly numb. ‘Katie, what did you tell him?’
