The Hopes and Dreams of Libby Quinn

by Freya Kennedy

  One of them would have to be the first to speak, Libby realised, so she took a deep breath.

  ‘So, you have feelings for Jess?’ she asked.

  ‘I think so. Or at least, I think I could have. When I saw her on the beach that day, I was just being polite when I said hello. It was a bit awkward really, at first. But we walked together for a bit and, well, we started talking. She’s easy to talk to.’

  Libby nodded. ‘I know. She’s a good person. A great person really. She’s more of a sister to me than a friend.’

  He shook his head, looked down. ‘Crap timing, eh?’ he said. ‘If only I’d met her first. No offence or anything,’ he backtracked, immediately mortified by what he’d said and who he had said it to.

  ‘No offence taken,’ she replied. ‘Well, maybe a little bit of offence, but I understand. Sometimes I think Cupid is off his head on drink half the time and his aim sucks. I wish, for both of you, you’d met first as well. But we get what we’re given.’ She shrugged her shoulders.

  ‘I suppose. I need to move on. Plenty more fish in the sea and all that,’ he said with what was obviously fake enthusiasm. ‘I need to know, though, has she ever mentioned me?’

  ‘You know that asking your recently dumped girlfriend if her best friend has the hots for you is a bit insensitive?’ Libby said. ‘And weird.’ She offered him a small smile.

  He nodded. ‘I do and that’s me being an arsehole again. I just wondered, did I imagine it, or did she feel something too?’

  Libby could hear the desperation in his voice. She thought of how Jess had spoken about him. How he was a ‘decent’ man and how she hadn’t really noticed time passing when she was with him.

  ‘She enjoyed your company,’ Libby said. ‘But she didn’t say much more than that.’

  He nodded, clearly disappointed that she wasn’t telling him that Jess had the same feelings for him that he had for her.

  ‘Look, I know Jess and I don’t know how I didn’t see it before, but if you want my opinion on it? I think you would, given the chance, be good together. Jess might not have expressed her feelings, but I am, or was, your girlfriend. I think that might have stopped her saying everything. But, as I said, she didn’t say anything but I saw the look on her face when she talked about you,’ Libby took a deep breath. ‘That told me everything I needed to know.’

  * * *

  By Thursday, Libby felt well enough to go back to the shop. She’d achieved quite a bit of admin at home, but she felt the need to be right in the heart of things again. She wanted to smell the paint and plaster, see if the new heating system looked as good as it did in the pictures and finally start to see the outside of the shop start to resemble what she hoped it would eventually look like. The new windows were going in, and she’d managed to have the original wooden arches and panels replicated.

  It was almost time to finalise her plans with Craig and start thinking about all the little touches that would make her shop stand out from others. The bistro tables for the coffee bar. A soft sofa or two for people to relax on while drinking their lattes. The copper light fittings she had dreamed of. The artificial plants to add some greenery. The artwork and decoration. All the fun touches that more than made up for the hours spent balancing the books, talking to suppliers over email or on the phone and planning her initial sales list. All the fun touches that would also distract her from the feeling of not-quite sadness she had after her break-up with Ant.

  Not that she regretted the break-up. Not one bit. It had, without doubt, been the right thing to do. But he’d been a big part of her life for eight months and it felt odd knowing he wasn’t any more.

  She also couldn’t get what he’d said about Jess out of her mind. One minute she’d find herself on the verge of calling Jess and telling her about it, and the next she told herself it wasn’t her place to meddle and if it was meant to me, they would find their own way to make it work.

  She had told Jess about the break-up on Tuesday. Jess had replied that she was sorry to hear that. They’d agreed they’d talk about it over a glass of wine when Libby was better. Jess, ever the GP, of course reminded them both that no alcohol should be consumed while her friend was still taking her antibiotics.

  Craig arrived just before four to discuss plans to finalise the layout of the shop.

  ‘Libby Quinn, tell me this, how’s the flat coming along?’

  Libby pulled a face. It was coming along, just slowly. It had been stripped out and the new heating and wiring done. But apart from that it was still a shell in need of a kitchen and bathroom and, well, just about everything else.

  ‘To be honest, it hasn’t been my priority. I’m making sure everything down here is well and truly sorted first and then I’ll use what’s left over to finish upstairs,’ she said, knowing already it was very unlikely to win any interior design awards. It would be basic, but she’d add her own touches to it over time. Thankfully, she still had most of her old furniture in storage and that was an expense she wouldn’t have to go to.

  ‘I might just have an offer for you that you can’t refuse,’ Craig said with a smile.

  Libby liked those kind of offers.

  ‘I may know where to get my hands on some nice bathroom fixtures and kitchen cupboards, et cetera. Job lot from a bust building site – good stuff, you know. Well made. It’s going for half nothing. So, if you trust me to get something picked out for you, I’ll get the lads on it tomorrow? You’ll still need to get your appliances for the kitchen, and your shower or whatever, but it will save you a bit of time and money?’

  Right then she didn’t care if Craig was proposing a camping stove in the kitchen and a collection of buckets in the bathroom – if it was one less thing for her to worry about, she would embrace it with open arms.

  ‘That would be amazing,’ she told him and he smiled.

  ‘Happy to help. I know what this place means to you. Noah told me all about it. About your grandad.’

  Libby felt a lump rise in her throat, and she thanked Craig before offering him a hug. Maybe everything would come together, just as everyone kept telling her it would, in the end.

  * * *

  It was Friday evening before she saw Jess, by which stage Libby felt back in the land of the living completely. Yes, she was still pale from her enforced stay indoors, but she felt like a new woman – and a new woman in want of a nice of glass of wine now that she had finished her course of antibiotics.

  It was gone six when she walked in through the heavy doors of the pub, pushed her sunglasses back off her face and looked around. Quite quickly, she saw Jess was seated in one of the booths by the window, smiling at her. In front of her sat two wine glasses and a bottle of white chilling in an ice bucket. Libby smiled, waved back and walked over towards her, doing her very best not to look as though she was actively scoping the place for signs of Noah.

  She knew she should keep her distance if she wanted to focus on what was really important, but she couldn’t quite bring herself to stay away.

  Jess stood as Libby approached her – she looked fresh-faced and tanned, dressed in a knee-length linen dress and a soft white cardigan. She wore just a slick of lip gloss to complete her look.

  Beside her, Libby, fresh from a day of admiring her new windows while poring over online catalogues from the book wholesalers she’d agreed to use, looked like a bit of a scruff in her cut-off trousers and vest top, with her favourite but distinctly well-loved Converse.

  She was surprised to realise she didn’t really care that she didn’t looked as perfectly put together as her friend. It didn’t really matter here. It certainly didn’t matter to Noah, who had seen her at her actual worse – semi-conscious with tonsillitis, with hair that looked as though birds had been nesting in it.

  Jess pulled her into a hug and she hugged her friend tightly back.

  ‘It’s so good to see you,’ Jess said.

  ‘You too,’ Libby smiled, before she stepped back and slipped into the booth opposite h
er friend.

  ‘It’s been a long, and eventful week,’ Jess said as she lifted the wine bottle from the ice bucket, shook the condensation from it and started to pour two large glasses.

  Libby raised her glass to her friend and said, ‘To no more antibiotics!’

  Jess smiled. ‘And perhaps to finally agreeing to see a throat specialist and have those bloody things taken out once and for all.’

  ‘Yes, doctor,’ Libby said with a smile, and they both sipped from their glasses.

  They sat in a silence for a minute or two, both knowing they would have to talk about Libby’s break-up with Ant.

  ‘Are you okay? You know, about everything?’ Jess asked, her eyes cast downwards.

  ‘I am. I mean, it’s a little strange, but I am.’

  ‘Was it awful? The break-up?’

  ‘No. Not at all. We both knew. It was okay. We talked things through, you know. We were adult about it. Sometimes things just aren’t meant to be.’

  Jess bit her bottom lip and looked into her wine glass. ‘Did my name come up at all?’

  Libby gulped. When push came to shove, she couldn’t lie to her best friend. ‘Do you want it to have come up?’ she asked.

  Jess looked up at her. ‘I honestly don’t know. Actually, no, don’t tell me. I shouldn’t have asked. Ignore me. No good can come of knowing.’

  Libby nodded. Except she knew some good could perhaps come of it. It would just be goodness that was weird for her and, if it all went wrong, would she feel responsible in some way?

  But Jess was a grown-up, and Ant had seemed very sincere. Both of them, at heart, were good people, who could possibly make each other happy.

  ‘He did mention you,’ she blurted. ‘It was a bit awkward, you know. But, yes, he felt a connection. That wasn’t news to me, Jess. I saw the pair of you together. What you do with that information is up to you, but, Jess, I want you to be happy. God knows you deserve it. If there’s a chance that he could do that for you, then maybe you need to explore that. And I’ll cope, because I’m a grown-up. Just spare me the intimate details.’

  Once she’d actually said the words, she knew she’d done the right thing. The rest was out of her hands. She could only control what she could control – and that was all she’d try to do.

  ‘And what about you, Libby? Are you happy? You deserve that too,’ Jess asked, cutting through her thoughts.

  ‘I think I will be. I am, I mean, but I think I could be even happier and that’s okay. I’m finally where I want to be. Where I never thought I could actually be. About to make Grandad proud by opening this shop in his honour. So don’t worry about me. I’ve got this.’

  It was at just that moment she saw Noah walk out from the office behind the bar. Despite her best attempts to act cool, she found herself smiling. Jess turned her head to see what her friend was smiling at.

  ‘There’s that barman. He’s the one who took you to Belfast?’ Jess said, and Libby realised she hadn’t confided in her friend about her growing feelings for Noah.

  ‘Yes. Yes, he did. That’s Noah.’

  ‘And he’s going out with that barmaid?’

  ‘No. No, they’re siblings. Well, foster brother and sister. Very close, you know, but definitely not going out together.’

  Jess looked at her. ‘Libby Quinn, is there something else you want to tell me?’

  Libby saw that Noah was walking over towards them. No, there was nothing else she wanted to tell Jess – and certainly not now.

  ‘Libby, have you seen Jo on your travels? She took Paddy out earlier and I was expecting her back by now.’

  Libby shook her head while Jess mouthed ‘Who’s Paddy?’ at her.

  ‘Paddy’s the dog,’ she told Jess. ‘I’m pretty sure you met him.’

  Jess nodded. ‘Right, okay, I remember.’

  ‘I’m sure they’re not far from here,’ Libby said.

  Noah glanced at the door and back at the growing queue of impatient drinkers and then back at Libby. ‘I hope so. The hoards are getting restless.’

  ‘Libby, you have some bar experience, don’t you? Why don’t you help for a few minutes?’ Jess said, a sly smile on her face. Libby knew exactly what her friend was trying to do, but she wasn’t sure it was a good idea. Besides, even if it was Jess suggesting she help, she had only just mended their friendship and the last thing she wanted to do was leave Jess sitting on her own.

  ‘Well, some bar experience might be a bit of an exaggeration,’ she said, thinking that she’d only helped out behind the bar at the golf club for half an hour one day and had almost cried when someone ordered a Guinness.

  ‘Anything would be a help, to be honest,’ Noah said, and she didn’t think she’d ever seen him flustered before.

  ‘Help the man out, would you?’ Jess pleaded. ‘I’ll be happy sitting here on my own for a bit. I’ve some calls I need to catch up on from work.’

  Libby knew her friend was lying. There was no way that Jess was making work calls in a bar, but she didn’t want to call her out on it.

  ‘Okay,’ she relented. ‘But no cocktails or pints of Guinness. You’re on your own with those!’

  ‘I’ll give your friend back to you as soon as Jo arrives or the rush dies down. Whatever happens sooner. Or actually, just if I find her really annoying which is also a possibility,’ Noah told Jess and Libby found herself playfully punching his arm and then desperately trying not think about the fact she had just felt the warmth of his skin on hers. Albeit only a very small amount of their skin had met, but it had been enough to make her feel giddy.

  That slightly heady feeling didn’t ease up as they stood together for the next half-hour and worked as a team. They manned the left of the bar and found their rhythm as they poured glasses of wine and opened bottles of beer. When Jo eventually returned, looking a little dishevelled and explaining that Paddy had insisted on dragging her the long way round the park – twice – Libby had almost been disappointed to be relieved of her duty and sent back to Jess, who was watching her with a broad smile on her face.

  ‘Libby Quinn. You better tell me all about him, and now.’

  ‘There’s nothing to tell. He’s my neighbour and he’s very helpful. He’s like this with everyone from the Lane. You should hear my dad talk about him – he’d have him beatified because he knows how to fit a Rawlplug properly and, of course, because he owns a pub.’

  Jess put her hand up. ‘Hang on a minute. Wind that back for me. The bit that he’s your neighbour and nice to everyone on the Lane, I get that. But the bit about your dad? And Rawlplugs?’

  ‘He’s been helping Dad out while I’ve been sick. The two of them are like a double act.’

  ‘He’s been helping out? How much?’

  Libby shrugged. ‘Enough, I suppose. Dad invited him over for dinner the other night to thank him.’

  At this, Jess almost choked on her wine. ‘He’s been at your house? For dinner? With your dad? Libby! This is something I feel I should’ve known.’

  Libby blushed. ‘But it didn’t mean anything. You know. I was sick. I wasn’t even there for dinner myself. I was up in my bed looking like something the cat dragged in. And everyone’s been helping out, it’s not just Noah.’

  ‘But Noah’s the only one you get giddy over?’ Jess asked, and before she even thought about it, Libby replied.

  ‘Yes.’ Then immediately realised what she’d said. ‘But it doesn’t mean anything. The shop is my focus now, Jess. I’m not looking for any other kind of outside interest or commitment other than selling books and learning how to use a coffee machine that comes with a ninety-page instruction manual and a bespoke barista training course. Two full days it will take me to learn how to make coffee!’

  ‘Hmmm,’ Jess said, one eyebrow raised. ‘I think the lady doth protest too much.’

  ‘Well, I think the other lady should mindeth her own business,’ Libby said with a smile. But inside she really did want Jess to stay out of it. She wanted everyone to
stay out of it, because the timing was so completely wrong and the stakes were too high.

  ‘Ladies, what are we talking about? Share the gossip,’ a male voice boomed, making Libby jump, as Noah pushed his way into the booth. ‘You don’t mind me sitting down, do you? I need a few minutes. That was some rush. Thanks again, Libby. You’re a lifesaver. I mean, we totally need to train you on how to pour an ordinary pint, as well as a pint of Guinness, but you made a good start.’

  ‘Cheers,’ Libby said. ‘Can we expect you to undergo training on book merchandising at any stage in the near future?’

  ‘What’s to learn? Stick some books in the window and sell them. Job done!’

  ‘If only,’ Libby said.

  She glanced at Jess, who was wearing an expression which very much said that she would not, in any way, be minding her own business at any stage in the near future. Libby would have given her the evil eye in return, but the truth was, in that moment, she was much too lost in enjoying feeling the warmth of Noah’s presence beside her, his thigh nudging against hers as they sat side by side in the booth. He smelled good. Had he always smelled good or was she just noticing now?

  ‘I definitely think you should add to your skill set, Libby,’ Jess said, cutting through her not altogether pure thoughts. ‘You’ve always said you’d love to be able to pour a Guinness. Noah should definitely teach you.’ Jess had one eyebrow raised and was barely suppressing a grin.

  ‘Well, that’s that sorted then, Bookshop Libby,’ Noah said. ‘Guinness lessons when you’re next free.’

  Libby didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

  26

  P.S. I Love You

  ‘I think, maybe, I think I need to make a phone call. If you just excuse me, I’ll step outside for a bit,’ Jess mumbled ten minutes later, lifted her bag and her wine glass, and edged her way out of the booth, leaving Noah and Libby sat side by side. She threw a look back to Libby which let her know, in no uncertain terms, that she didn’t really want to make a phone call.