Page 29 of Bea's Book Wagon
‘Thanks,’ said Bea, ‘I’ve never worked as a barista before, I’m just hoping I don’t screw up.’
‘You’ll be fine.’
‘I hope so,’ said Bea, feeling a bubble of nerves in her stomach at the prospect of her first day. ‘So, what else do you get up to, when you’re not saving dogs or building houses?’
‘Ha! All the usual stuff, I guess: playing footie, eating out, catching up with my mates, dating.’
‘Dating?’ Bea wasn’t sure this counted as date. Perhaps Lochlan was just being friendly? She swallowed hard before asking, ‘So… is this a date?’
‘Erm, I hope so?’ he said, fixing his dark eyes on her.
God those eyes were intense.
‘In fact,’ he said, clearing his throat, ‘I was hoping you might agree to a second? How about Thursday? There’s somewhere I’d like to take you.’
‘Uh-huh,’ Bea nodded. All she could do right now was stare into his beautiful, big eyes.
‘Pass me your phone,’ said Lochlan, reaching out his hand. ‘Let me give you my number.’
* * *
‘You came back!’ said Bea, beaming as Arthur made his way towards the enquiry desk at the library on Sunday.
‘Had to, my dear. I whizzed through the book you found me in no time. I’m here for another one,’ he said.
‘I’m pleased you enjoyed it,’ she beamed, placing The Killing Floor on the returns pile.
‘I loved it,’ said Arthur, his eyes sparkling. ‘That Lee Child fellow is a very talented writer.’
‘He really is,’ Bea agreed.
‘Much better than the television series, I think, but then again, I always prefer the book.’
‘Oh, me too. It’s always a bit of a let-down when they adapt something I love into a movie; it’s never as good. I’ll go grab you the next one in the series,’ she said, hurrying off to the crime section.
When Bea returned to the desk, Arthur was flicking through the library’s What’s On pamphlet.
‘See anything you fancy?’ she asked.
‘I was thinking about joining a book club. I don’t suppose you run one here?’
‘We don’t, I’m afraid,’ said Bea, shaking her head, ‘but I’ll ask around. I’m sure there must be one locally.’
‘I’ve got so much time on my hands these days,’ said Arthur, his voice cracking a little. ‘When you get to my age, the hours just seem to stretch out in front of you, and most of my friends… well, they’re no longer with us.’
‘Oh, Arthur, I’m so sorry to hear that,’ said Bea, kindly. ‘You’re welcome here any time, you know. If you just want to sit and read or have a browse. I’m here at the weekends and I’ll always stick the kettle on for you.’
‘Thank you, my dear. That’s very kind.’
‘I’ve brought you the next two books in the Reacher series, that should keep you busy for a while,’ said Bea, scanning them out, ‘and number three is an absolute corker, you’re going to love it!’
‘Excellent! Thank you,’ said Arthur, putting the books in his shopping bag and turning to leave.
‘Arthur?’ Bea called after him. ‘Fancy a cuppa before you go?’
‘Now? Aren’t you busy?’
‘Busy?’ said Bea, looking around her, ‘you’re the only other person here.’
