Page 13 of The Shape of Your Heart
Not sure where to start, I make myself a cup of coffee and take it outside. Sitting on the terrace, I get out my phone and started scrolling down Marketplace ads to hunt for a desk, but as I fail to find one, a bookcase catches my eye. Finishing my coffee, I go inside again to check the measurements of my study. It would fit perfectly.
I message the seller, someone who goes by the namedog rose days.
Is this item still for sale?
They get back to me a few minutes later.
Yes.
Can I come over and take a look?
Having taken down the address, I go back out to my car again. As luck would have it, it’s only about twenty minutes away. The drive takes me along winding country lanes, the steep sides of which are edged with the stone walls that are everywhere in Cornwall; overgrown with long grasses and wild flowers.
I turn up a particularly narrow lane, before coming to a small cottage that stands alone. White-painted, it has small windows and a maroon front door. Parking behind another car in the layby opposite, I get out and knock, waiting only seconds before it’s opened by someone. As I see her face, a feeling of astonishment comes over me.
It’s beach girl.
7
CALLIE
‘It’s you.’ Slightly shocked, I gaze at the guy. It’s the weirdest of coincidences that having seen him in Truro earlier today, here he is now, standing on my doorstep.
He looks equally surprised. ‘Hello.’
I pull myself together. ‘You’ve come for the bookcase?’
‘Yeah.’ He pauses. ‘It sounds exactly what I need – I think I told you, I’ve just moved. I have this tiny office space – which your bookcase should fit perfectly.’
I have the strangest feeling as I stand back to let him in. ‘You’d better come and see.’ As he steps inside, I close the door behind him. ‘It’s over here.’ I lead him through the kitchen part of the open-plan living space. ‘This is it.’ But instead of looking at the bookcase, his eyes seem fixed on my garden.
‘Sorry.’ He turns back towards me, then properly looks at the bookcase. ‘It’s great. I’ll take it. Sorry,’ he says again. ‘It’s just that your garden is really something.’
‘Thanks.’ I fold my arms. I can’t quite put my finger on it, but there’s something about this guy that makes me uncomfortable.
‘I’m Nathan, by the way.’
I already know from his Marketplace profile, while mine,dog rose daysis nicely anonymous. ‘I’m Callie.’
Slightly awkwardly, he says, ‘I hope you don’t mind me asking, but would you mind if I had a look out there?’
Remembering what he’d said in Truro about having taken on an overgrown garden, I shrug. ‘Be my guest.’
I watch him go outside, stopping to notice details, slowly working his way around the old wall, the borders, the brick shed at the end that’s covered in honeysuckle, before he comes back.
He looks slightly dazed. ‘It’s the most beautiful garden I’ve ever seen.’
I feel a flicker of warmth. ‘Thanks.’
‘Did it take long? To get it looking like that?’
‘About three years.’ Years of love, blood and sweat – followed by a year of tears. ‘You kind of learn as you go along,’ I say to encourage him. ‘When things start growing, it’s the best feeling.’
‘I feel inspired,’ he says humbly. ‘Honestly. I’m so glad I came to get your bookcase.’ He fumbles in his pocket and gets out some money. ‘You said fifty?’
I nod. ‘I decided it was time for a bit of a clear out. It’s why I was in Truro this morning – I was dropping some books at a charity shop. Not my books…’ I’ve no idea why I’m telling him this. ‘They were my fiancé’s. He died,’ I add, by way of explanation, feeling myself frown. My voice hasn’t even wavered.
There’s shock on his face. ‘I’m so sorry. That must have been awful for you.’
