He opened the door and Libby gasped as he pulled a string and the room was flooded with light. Okay, it was still pretty much a shell. But it was a shell with an actual pristine white loo inside, which, as she discovered, actually flushed, and a working sink with shiny taps. Boxes of tiles sat waiting to be laid and it felt as if she was finally seeing what this place would become.
Libby Quinn had never thought the sight of a toilet could bring her to tears of joy, but here she was, crying anyway.
‘Oh Libby,’ her Mum exclaimed.
‘That’s nothing,’ her dad said. ‘Come and see this!’ He opened the door to the stockroom and there was the frame of the small room that would become her kitchen. The plumbing was underway and she could see how it would look when done.
And she could see the shelves from Keith, lined against the wall, looking ready to be filled with books. She ran her hand along the wood and felt excitement surge inside her.
There was so much to do, but so much had been done in such a short space of time.
Libby saw tears form in her mum’s eyes, which mirrored her own.
‘It’s coming together, isn’t it?’ she asked and her mum nodded, beaming with pride.
‘It sure is. You’ve done a good job,’ she said, to which her dad coughed politely. ‘And you’ve done a good job too, love,’ she said proudly.
‘Sure, what would I do without you both?’ Libby asked, pulling them into a family hug.
They were mid-hug when a male voice interrupted them.
‘Ah, it’s only yourselves,’ she heard Noah’s voice and her heart skipped a beat. She’d wanted to see him, of course, but what must she look like, with tears running down her face? ‘Jim, Linda, Libby…’ he said, walking in. ‘Jo said she saw the door open and didn’t know what was going on – just wanted to check nothing untoward was happening.’
‘Only a big family moment here, Noah,’ her mum said.
‘So I see – and Libby – you’re looking better. If still a little pale and emotional.’
‘She is pale, isn’t she, Noah?’ her mum said. ‘I told her she looked pale, but she insisted on coming to pick up some things. I think really she just wanted a nosy. It’s been killing her not to be here the last few days.’
‘Ah, do you not trust us to look after the place?’ he said to Libby, feigning offence, and smiled at her parents. ‘Your dad and I have been doing a great job.’
‘Yes,’ her mum said. ‘I hear you’ve been working hard at the Guinness and the stews.’
‘Working men need to eat,’ Noah smiled. ‘Although our chef has nothing on your cooking, Linda!’
Libby laughed. Noah absolutely knew how to wrap her mother around his little finger. She saw her mother blush.
‘I suppose you’ve done an average job,’ Libby teased. ‘I mean, it’ll do.’
‘Well, I did try my best,’ Noah said. ‘I always strive for average.’
It felt good, really good, to be back in the bantering zone. Libby reminded herself this was a nice, safe zone to be in and not one which she needed to complicate at all.
Noah smiled at her, and the sun framed his face just perfectly. She saw the crinkle of the skin around his eyes, his strong jawline, and she realised he was so much more than handsome. He was perfect and she’d love to place her hand on his cheek and move closer and…
No. She had to absolutely and completely not move outside of the bantering zone. No matter how many butterflies were buzzing around in her stomach.
24
Cat on a Hot Tin Roof
Libby was retrieving her laptop and the paperwork she wanted from the drapery counter when there was a knock on the door frame and a booming ‘hello’ from outside.
All four sets of eyes in the shop turned to the door, where Harry, armed with a tin of fly spray, stood.
‘Ah, it’s just you, Bookshop Libby,’ he said, lowering the can of spray and walking in. ‘I saw the shutter up and I knew that wasn’t your car outside. And Noah here had told me you were sick and that’s why you hadn’t been in, so I wanted to make sure there was nothing untoward going on in here. How on earth are you? Are you on the mend?’ The look of concern on his face was genuine and Libby felt her heart swell.
‘I’m a martyr to my tonsils, Harry. I think I’ll have to bite the bullet and get them out one of these days, but, yes, I think I am on the mend.’
‘She’ll not be back properly for at least a few more days,’ her mum chimed in. ‘Who needs community watch with you two about?’ she added, smiling at both Harry and Noah. ‘Any burglars wouldn’t stand a chance.’
Harry blushed. ‘Well, I’m not sure my fly spray would have been much of a deterrent, but I figured a good spray of it right in the face would teach them a lesson.’
‘You’re a good man, Harry,’ Noah said. ‘But will you promise me if you ever plan to go gung-ho against would-be criminals in the future – give my door a rattle first? We watch out for each other round here, remember?’
‘We do that,’ Harry said, smiling – before he looked around the shop and his gaze stopped at Libby’s parents. She realised she had yet to introduce them, so she sprang to action. ‘Mum, Dad, this is Harry. He runs the corner shop. Harry – these are my parents, Linda and Jim.’
Harry brushed his hand on his trousers before extending his arm to shake hands. ‘Well, Linda and Jim, I have to say to you this young lady has only been with us a couple of weeks, but you should be so proud of her. Great to see a young one work so hard. There’s not enough of it about these days.’
Noah coughed, and Harry laughed. ‘Present company excepted, of course.’
‘Thanks, Harry,’ Noah teased.
‘You’ve done a good job raising this one,’ Harry said, addressing her parents again. ‘She’s a very welcome addition to our Ivy Lane family.’
Linda blushed and Jim beamed with pride, while Libby felt a warm and fuzzy feeling which she didn’t think was just a sign that her temperature was on the up again.
‘Thank you for saying so,’ her father said. ‘We think so too. We’re very proud of her – and we’re glad that she’s setting up in a place like this. Knowing what kind of people are around her makes it easier for us, you know.’
‘Ah, we’ll keep an eye on her all right. She’ll be safe here.’
‘I am standing right here, you know,’ Libby said. ‘But, yes, it is lovely to have you all, but, look, while we’re all standing around chatting about how lovely Ivy Lane is, I’m starting to think I could murder a cup of tea. How about we walk down to your shop and get some milk and biscuits. I’m sure we’ll find enough mugs around here to make do. It’ll be a bit rough and ready, but it’s the thought that counts.’
‘That sounds just lovely,’ Linda said, while Harry smiled.
‘I’ve just the thing,’ he said. ‘Some apple tarts that are just out of date today – they’ll be perfectly fine. I’ll go and get them,’ he said, turning to walk out. ‘There’s no need to come with me. You get the kettle on.’
‘We could do better than that,’ Noah said. ‘No offence to your apple tarts, Harry, but why don’t you all come over the road for a cup of tea and fresh scones before the lunchtime rush? You too, Harry. Keep the shop shut another wee bit.’
‘I couldn’t do that,’ Harry said, shaking his head.
‘You could, Harry. You work seven days a week – take a break,’ Noah said. ‘We’d enjoy your company.’
‘We’re only coming over if you let me pay,’ Libby said. ‘No arguments. You’ve done more than enough favours.’
‘Of course you’re paying,’ he teased. ‘What do you think I am, a charity?’ He winked and her stomach flipped again. This was a bad idea. Spending any time with him was a bad idea.
* * *
Exhausted, Libby was delighted to get home just over an hour and a half later. Harry and her father had hit it off and had talked the ears off each other. Her mother had flirted almost mercilessly with Noah – while she had
watched, mildly horrified but also impressed with how he had chatted so effortlessly with her mum, making her feel like she was the only person in the room.
The drive home had been difficult. It had felt like a fifteen-minute lecture on the merits of Noah Simpson. She didn’t disagree with anything her parents said, but she didn’t need to hear it. She was already sold.
Back home, she climbed into her bed for a nap. She needed to have her wits about her when she saw Ant. He deserved her to be honest and open. He deserved her full attention for one last time.
* * *
She jolted awake from her nap after hearing a knock on her bedroom door. She glanced at the clock on her bedside table. She had slept much longer than anticipated. Oh God, she thought. This was not the calm, collected appearance she wanted to project.
She called, ‘Come in!’ and pulled herself up to sitting, doing her best to smooth down her hair and wipe any suspect drool from her face.
The click of the door handle, the creak of the hinges and she took a deep breath, looking up to see Ant, his face solemn. He pulled a bouquet of clearly expensive flowers from behind his back. ‘I thought you might like these,’ he said, and she did. They were beautiful flowers. She had never been able to fault Ant on his generosity.
‘They’re lovely,’ she said with a genuine but sad smile.
She looked at him. He was deliciously handsome. A real man’s man – broad shoulders, tall, a thick head of dark hair, olive skin, dark eyes. He was movie-star handsome and he looked after himself. He was always groomed impeccably, and his commitment to exercise put Libby to shame. He was successful, wealthy, generous with gifts, and in the bedroom. He loved to cook and, what’s more, he was good at it. He lacked an arrogance that he could so easily have had.
His pull was magnetic – and when they had been together, especially to begin with, he had made her feel like the most beautiful, alluring sex goddess on the planet. It had been intoxicating. He had been intoxicating. During the hours they were together she could forget all about her grief and her worries and just relish losing herself with this man and his ability to make her insides turn to molten lava with just one touch of his fingertip.
Such lust though – it didn’t last. Something that intense couldn’t just keep going indefinitely, not without more to back it up.
While Libby could still acknowledge his handsomeness, and all his many qualities, she couldn’t help how she felt. The first hint that they were not suited had spiralled and she had a strong feeling he felt that too. There was an awkwardness to how he handed the flowers to her and to the chaste kiss on her forehead.
She realised she didn’t need him like she once had – and she didn’t suppose he had really ever needed her. He just enjoyed their time together, but had perhaps known all along that it would never go any further than that.
‘You know you didn’t have to bring me anything,’ she told him and she caught his gaze – his dark eyes were staring straight at her.
‘I suppose we need to have the big talk, don’t we?’ he said. He said it in such a matter-of-fact manner that part of her felt a bit sad that it had come to this. Any passion they had together had been replaced with apathy.
‘We do,’ Libby agreed.
‘Or maybe we don’t?’ Ant said.
Libby raised her eyebrows. What did he mean? Was he backtracking? She had been sure they’d been on the same page. They were on the same page, weren’t they?
‘I think we do though,’ she said, her voice steady.
‘Libby,’ he said as he reached out and took her hand. ‘Do we really? I think we both know it’s over? Can’t we just agree it is and remain friends and not overanalyse it? We never really were ones for analysing what went on between us. We just enjoyed it. But all good things…’
Relief that he understood washed over her, but was quickly nudged to the side by a feeling of guilt that she had pulled away before he did. She’d always been so sure it would be the other way around.
‘Do you blame me?’ she asked.
‘I’m not sure either of us is really to blame. But, no, I don’t blame you. Why would I?’
‘Because… well, this all started to go wrong when I got the keys to the shop. And Jess said you’ve both been talking. That you both felt I’d been a bit selfish and neglectful.’ Her face blazed as she spoke.
She watched as Ant coloured slightly. He sighed and rubbed his chin – the scratch of his stubble audible. ‘I think nothing went wrong so much as we both realised we’re just not meant to be,’ he began. ‘I think for a while I was, maybe, confused. I’d gotten used to you being around – and then you weren’t so much. And I acted like a complete arsehole because I was trying to make sense of it all. Because I do like you, Libby. I’ve always liked you. We just…’
‘…Don’t have that much in common,’ Libby said.
‘Exactly. We had fun and I’ll never regret it, but, well – I’m getting older. Starting to think about what I want out of life. I suppose you chasing the dream of your shop is partly responsible for that. And the thing is,’ he said, ‘I think I want to stop acting like I’m in my twenties. I want to meet someone. I want to meet “the one”.’
‘And that’s definitely not me,’ Libby said sincerely.
‘Sorry,’ Ant said, and he did look sorry.
Libby smiled and brushed his hand. ‘There is absolutely nothing to be sorry for,’ she said. ‘I agree with you. We are not “the one” for each other, and I agree you acted a little bit like an arsehole. But then neither of us are perfect.’
‘I’m close to perfect though, aren’t I?’ he said with cheeky smile.
‘Oh absolutely. You’re neighbours with perfect. Perfect adjacent, some might say.’ She squeezed his hand. ‘You’ll make some woman very happy.’
‘Well, I hope so,’ he said. ‘It’s time for me to grow up and settle down. I want someone to come home to every night, you know? To talk with and laugh with and travel with. Although, if you repeat any of this conversation to anyone, I will deny all knowledge. I’ve a reputation to protect!’
‘Your reputation is safe with me,’ Libby said.
He nodded. ‘Thank you. Can I ask you, when did you know that it was over? Was there a moment or were you unhappy for a while?’
‘First of all, Ant, I don’t think I was really unhappy. But when did I know? The night I came back from Belfast to find Jess in your house.’
‘You do know nothing happened between Jess and I?’ he said, stricken.
‘Yes. Of course. But I saw how you chatted. How you interacted. You were so relaxed together. It struck me that you were both quite similar really. Successful, generous, averse to Pot Noodles and ready meals. Maybe that’s part of what drew me to you in the first place? That you reminded me a bit of Jess. Although, I’ll be honest, I have never, ever wanted to do the things with Jess that I’ve done with you. Don’t ever entertain that little fantasy,’ she smiled. ‘But, yes, that night. I suppose, like you said, I realised I wanted more, I deserved more, and so do you.’
‘Jess is cool,’ he said quietly, and if Libby wasn’t mistaken she saw the slightest hint of a blush creep up his neck. ‘I’d never really spoken to her before.’
‘We were usually occupied with other things,’ Libby said, her face flushing.
‘This is true,’ Ant said. ‘But she’s a good person. And a good friend to you. You’re lucky to have her. You know, that was the night I realised too. Or the night I finally admitted it to myself.’ His voice was soft and he didn’t meet Libby in the eye.
Libby didn’t quite know what to say, but she knew with absolute clarity what he was thinking.
‘You like her?’ she asked.
‘Would you hate me if I did?’ Ant answered.
25
Heartburn
Libby shook her head, which hurt just a little. ‘No. But that doesn’t make it not weird.’
‘I know,’ Ant said. ‘I don’t know if she even would want to see
me, but I can’t deny that I like her. I know I don’t really know her, of course, but… sometimes you get a feeling.’
Libby knew what he meant and blushed when she thought of Noah and how she felt about him.
‘Look, if we’re going to talk this one out, let’s go into the garden. I could do with some fresh air, to be honest,’ Libby said.
He nodded before she told him to go on down and she would follow him in five minutes. It would, she thought, give her enough time to run a brush through her hair, give her face a quick wash and brush her teeth. It would also give her time to try and gather her thoughts.
Because it would be weird. Even if she had seen how they were suited. She couldn’t imagine it would be anything other than awkward if the two of them were to start dating. Would it have an ick factor she just wouldn’t be able to shake? But if both of them felt something for each other even akin to the feelings she felt growing inside of her for Noah, should she really let her uncomfortable feelings get in the way of them seeing if they could make things work?
She looked at herself in the mirror and wondered why every little thing in her life had to be so complicated.
* * *
Ant was sitting on one of her parents’ garden chairs, under the cover of the big oak tree at the bottom of the garden. It was one of Libby’s favourite spots, where she used to sit and watch her grandad and dad working together, tending the flower beds and pruning the rose bushes.
‘This is lovely,’ Ant said, looking around.
‘It is. My parents have always loved their garden,’ Libby said. ‘It’s one of their shared projects over the years.’
He nodded. She and Ant had never had any shared projects.
They sat in awkward silence, listening to the buzz of a distant lawnmower and watching a gentle breeze ripple across the lawn.
The Hopes and Dreams of Libby Quinn Page 19
