by Fay Keenan
‘That’s a pretty weird combination, though,’ Kate said, mulling over the items now on Harry’s counter. ‘I guess I should have paid more attention to my eldest son when he was reading the first two novels to find out what the significance of that costume is!’ She’d read the first book in the series herself, but couldn’t remember why those particular props were so important.
‘Honestly, I’m not completely sure there is one,’ Harry replied. ‘Urban fantasy isn’t really my thing, though, so I could be missing something.’
‘It all looks very intriguing, anyway,’ Kate replied. She glanced up at the ceiling of the shop and then, seeing the damp patch, and aware that Harry might be waiting to close up, got back to business. ‘So, do you want to talk me through what you’d like me to do?’
‘Absolutely.’ Harry came out from behind the counter, and Kate couldn’t help noticing that under that geeky costume pullover and despite the dishevelled hair, he looked far too suave to be a bookseller, who she’d always imagined as tweed-clad and rather shabby in their appearance.
‘If you’ve got the time for the project, I’d like a light colour on the walls, and a bright white on the ceiling, to cover the age spots and give the place a real lift. The shelving’s dark, so I want something that won’t make it feel smaller or claustrophobic, and will offset the bookshelves without upstaging them.’
‘Any thoughts on the actual colour?’ Kate looked around at the space.
‘Not really, although a shade of yellow might be nice.’
Kate tried not to wince. ‘I’m not sure yellow would work in this space with the very dark shelving,’ she said. ‘It might end up looking like the inside of a 1970s pub!’
Harry laughed. ‘I told you I was no good with colour. What would you suggest?’
Kate thought for a moment. ‘There’s this really nice shade from a company called Craig and Rose called Porcelain Blue,’ she said. ‘I’ve got a colour card at home that I brought with me to do my brother’s place. I could order a tester pot if you like, see what you think.’
‘Sounds good,’ Harry replied. ‘I’m impressed you can remember the names off the colour charts just like that.’
‘Ah, but I bet if I asked you if you had a particular book, and you had it in stock, you’d know exactly where to find it, even if you had it in the stockroom out the back,’ Kate replied.
‘Well, you’ve got me there.’ Harry nodded. ‘Why? Is there something in particular you’re looking for?’
‘The collected poems of Christina Rossetti,’ Kate said.
‘To your left, third shelf down, dark blue cloth binding,’ Harry replied immediately.
Kate headed over to where Harry had indicated, paused, and then pulled the exact book from the shelf. ‘Impressive.’ She felt the silky blue binding of the book’s covers, and the sensation of the rough cut pages against the tip of her fingers. ‘What about a copy of Atwood’s Oryx and Crake?’
‘Other side of the room, fiction, top shelf, halfway across.’
Again, Kate found the book. ‘See? And you think it’s cool that I remember the names of colours?’
‘Well, it is.’ Harry smiled. Kate found herself smiling back, and a lovely heartbeat’s pause elapsed before Harry cleared his throat again. ‘Do you need a hand measuring up?’
‘Sure.’ She pulled a tape measure from where she’d hooked it over the belt on her jeans and passed him the other end. ‘I assume I’m painting behind the shelves and not just around them?’
‘Yes please,’ Harry said. ‘They can all be shifted about, or so I was led to believe by the previous owner.’
As they set to measuring the shop, Kate found herself starting to relax a little. She felt as though she could really do a good job for Harry, and although it would mean even more work than she’d taken on with Tom and Aidan’s house, she looked forward to the challenge. For the first time in a long time, she felt excited, and like this really could be the start of a new career.
18
Over the next week or so, Kate found herself getting into a bit of a groove. The living room of Tom and Aidan’s place was coming along nicely, and she was beginning to get physically more able to cope with the demands of a painting and decorating job. Florence popped in most days, and while Kate wouldn’t let her help out with the actual work, it was nice to have the company and to chat over a cuppa. She’d clear up at about four o’clock, grab a bite to eat and then head down the road with her painting stuff in the boot of her Volvo to crack on with Harry’s shop.
At first, he’d tried to stay out of the way, apart from helping her to shift the bookshelves before she started each part of the room, or if she needed to ask him something, and Kate was initially glad for that. She suspected there was nothing worse than having a client hovering over your every move, and, as early as she was in this new venture, she was more than happy to be left to her own devices. However, after the first couple of evenings, Harry had been a bit more present, rather than just letting her into the shop and then scurrying into the back, or up the rickety stairs to his flat, and eventually the cups of tea he made her stretched into longer chats while she worked.
Kate, not being a natural confider in people, had been more than happy to let him lead the conversations. She found him easy to talk to, though, and before long they were discovering a shared love of bad mid-eighties stadium rock music and early morning walks, and very, very dark chocolate. She wasn’t sure if she could be totally on board with his desire to drink whisky from a granite tumbler at the peak of Ben Nevis, but she thought she’d probably settle for cider at the top of Cheddar Gorge as a compromise. He didn’t shirk when she suggested he picked up a brush, either, and was soon happily edging the walls while she made brisk work with the paint roller. They were getting on so well, in fact, that after a few evenings, their conversation had turned more personal; to Kate, it felt as though a friendship was beginning to bloom.
‘So, what’s the best thing about living and working in Willowbury?’ Kate asked, apropos of nothing.
Harry laughed. ‘Good question! I think it’s that I never know what to expect when I open the front door to the shop of a morning. This morning, for example, it was a bare-footed pagan in a purple cloak, and yesterday a nun asked to use my loo. I mean, how can you refuse an envoy of the Lord?’
Kate found herself laughing along with Harry. ‘I guess you will have scored points in heaven for that one!’
‘And then there are the cosplayers,’ Harry said, getting into his stride. ‘I used to think I was pretty switched on with the current trends in that market but there has been such an explosion of different texts and fandoms since all of the streaming platforms launched, and I don’t recognise half of the characters who come into the shop these days. Of course, I know a good Harry Potter when I see one, and ever since Artemis Bane hit the big time, I see a lot of the characters from his novels wandering up and down Willowbury High Street in search of the locations that he includes in his books.’
‘That’s the guy who’s coming to speak at the shop?’
‘Yup.’ Harry smiled ruefully. ‘By hosting him, I’ll make more money in one night than I do in a month, but my Christ he’s got a long list of demands!’
Harry proceeded to fill Kate in on the long, frequent emails he’d received and by the end of it she was shaking with laughter.
‘I’d just get him some lemons from the Co-op,’ she said, ‘and see if he really can tell the difference!’
‘You’re joking, aren’t you?’ Harry joined in with laughter. ‘Apparently the last time he didn’t get what he wanted at a book signing, he tipped his jug of water over the books that he was meant to be signing. The poor bookshop owner had already paid for them and could barely give them away after that. It’s really not worth the financial risk.’
‘Sounds like someone needs to bring him down a peg or two,’ Kate said. ‘My son Corey loves his books. I wonder if he would if he knew what a diva he was.’
&nb
sp; ‘I’ve still got some tickets left for the event next week if you fancy bringing him along,’ Harry said. ‘Happy to save you a seat if you think you can stomach it.’
‘Thanks,’ Kate replied. ‘They’ve just got home from a trip to Florida with their dad, but I’ll see what he’s up to and if he feels up to coming to stay for a night or two. I have been a bit reluctant to invite them down to stay with me as they all get really jealous of each other and I can’t be seen, as their mother, to be playing favourites and choosing one over the others. However, Corey sounded a bit down on the phone recently. He seemed better the last time we talked, and I asked my ex-husband to keep an eye on him, but perhaps it would do him good to come and stay with me for a day or two.’ Realising she was half speaking to herself, thinking out loud, she picked up her roller again.
‘It must be hard being away from them,’ Harry said.
Kate shrugged unconvincingly. ‘They’re getting older now. They like to think they don’t need us, me and Phil, but it’s amazing how quickly they come back to us when they want something!’
‘Are they close to their dad?’
‘Yes,’ Kate said, although she knew that with Corey that wasn’t entirely true. ‘It hit them hard when we split up. Especially Corey, who always seems to feel things that much more than the other two. He is my eldest, but I find myself worrying about him so much more than Will and Tom. They just seem that much more streetwise, you know?’
Harry’s slight hesitation to reply drew Kate’s attention. ‘Sorry,’ she said, feeling as though she’d been banging on. ‘I didn’t mean to overshare. I know how tedious it is when you don’t have kids to hear other people wittering on about their own.’
‘Not at all,’ Harry said. ‘It’s nice to hear you talking about them. I’m interested, really I am.’
‘I would have thought you were more the footloose and fancy-free type!’ Kate joked.
‘Appearances can be deceptive.’ Harry turned away and began painting a line by the skirting board again.
Kate, suddenly aware that she might have touched a nerve, felt in a quandary. Was it something she’d said? To be fair, she’d meant it as a compliment; Harry dressed entirely too well, all the time, to be a parent. It was only now that she actually had the time to take better care of herself, and her boys were almost fully grown.
As if reading her thoughts, Harry turned back to her. ‘Sorry,’ he said. ‘I didn’t mean to be quite so abrupt. I found out that fatherhood wasn’t going to be on the cards for me a long time ago. It’s not something that I usually spend a lot of time thinking about these days.’
Kate’s slow methodical strokes with the roller became even more so. ‘You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, but may I ask why, Harry?’
‘Well, the thing is that children the conventional way was never really going to be an option,’ Harry said. He suddenly seemed to find the section of wall he was helping to paint incredibly interesting.
‘In what way?’ Kate asked.
‘I, well, I found out I was infertile when I was in my twenties,’ Harry said, still methodically rolling up and down the wall.
‘Christ, Harry, I’m so sorry,’ said Kate, giving him her full attention now, as she put her own roller carefully down in the tray. ‘What a thing to discover.’
‘I made peace with it a long time ago.’ Harry turned back to her. ‘And, the way things have turned out, perhaps it’s for the best. I’m rather too set in my ways to start a family now, anyway.’
‘But to have the possibility taken from you is awful.’ Kate couldn’t imagine what that would have been like; most of her twenties and thirties had been taken up with raising her three sons; the thought of being without them was unimaginable.
‘I had a lot of therapy when the diagnosis came,’ Harry said. ‘And there were always other routes to having children; it just didn’t work out that way, in the end. To be honest, now I’m here, I don’t feel that much of a loss.’
Kate shook her head. ‘I can’t imagine what you must have been through.’ She paused, searching around desperately for something to say that didn’t sound trite or clichéd. She struggled, and in the end settled on complimenting him on the bookshop. ‘This place is such a project, though – does it help to, I don’t know, come to terms with it?’
Harry laughed. ‘It’s all right, honestly. I’ve had a fair few conversations like this over the years, and it’s perfectly fine not to know what to say. No one can fix it, it is what it is, and I’ve learned to accept it.’
Kate put her roller back down in the paint tray and stretched her aching back. She reached over to the shelf where she had rested a cup of tea that Harry had made some minutes previously. Taking it, she glanced at him. ‘So, did the move to Willowbury have something to do with… you know?’
‘Yes, definitely,’ Harry said quietly. ‘That’s really what my moving here was all about. There was someone who I thought might end up changing things, back in London, but… it wasn’t to be. In the end, I just needed to come somewhere completely different, to feel things that were different. This place seemed to be the answer.’
‘I can see why,’ said Kate, putting down her teacup. ‘Willowbury is certainly different.’
‘It really is.’ Harry smiled, but there was a sudden, deeper sadness in his dark, denim-blue eyes. Kate paused, wondering if she should push him to elucidate on this change of mood or not. When Harry then put the paint can down on the counter, and leaned up against it to drink his tea, Kate saw he was in the mood to talk.
‘So, what happened?’ Kate asked. ‘If you don’t mind my asking.’
‘I did think I was going to settle down and have a family once, despite my diagnosis, but sadly it didn’t work out.’
‘I don’t want to pry,’ Kate said gently. ‘But if you want to tell me, I’d like to know.’
Harry focused on his mug of tea. ‘Some things can’t be negotiated, and there were a couple of definite non-negotiables in the end.’
‘From her side or yours?’ Kate asked as she continued to paint. ‘Sorry. It’s none of my business, really.’ They might be getting on well, but she still needed to curb that urge to ask the most direct questions.
‘No, it’s okay,’ Harry replied. ‘It’s not really that interesting a story.’
‘Oh?’ Kate replied, even more intrigued.
Harry paused and smiled back at Kate. ‘It’s been a long time since I’ve discussed it. In fact, I’m not even sure that I’ve told anyone in Willowbury. Not even Jack! But somehow I feel I can talk to you. It must be doing all this manual labour that’s making me a bit more relaxed.’
‘Manual labour?’ Kate snorted. ‘I’d hardly call painting a few lines around the skirting board manual labour!’
Harry laughed. ‘Maybe you’re right, but it is for me!’ There was another pause, and he seemed to be collecting his thoughts. ‘Nicola and I were together for five years,’ Harry said, between sips of his tea. ‘And for a long time we were very, very happy. We worked in similar fields, had a good group of friends… you know the stuff. She’d always known I couldn’t have my own children naturally, that there would be issues with conceiving if we decided to go down that route.’ He paused, and Kate waited for him to pick back up. Although this had clearly all happened a while ago, she could see from the tension in the hand that gripped his mug that he wasn’t in the habit of talking regularly about it.
‘Well, we did decide, after we’d bought a house and reached a decent stage in our careers, that we would try for a baby, using a donor, and then after that, maybe get married. Nicola went into the whole thing with her eyes open. She loved me, and I loved her.’ Harry swallowed. ‘The problems came, of course, after a couple of rounds of treatment. She was badly physically affected by the treatment, and I felt so unable to help. Despite the doctors’ best efforts, and all of our hopes, she just couldn’t conceive.’ Harry shook his head. ‘I couldn’t help thinking how much better off she’d be with
someone different. Someone who worked.’ He gave a short, humourless laugh. ‘She, of course, wouldn’t have any of it; insisted that it didn’t matter, but in the end, I knew it did.’
‘I’m so sorry, Harry,’ Kate said softly. ‘It must be like a bereavement, in a sense.’
Harry nodded. ‘After the last failed round, we decided to call it a day. We were both so tired of it all, and it seemed to take over everything else in our lives. After that, we talked about adoption, but I think something like that either unites or destroys a couple. For us, it meant we just didn’t have anything left to give each other. We limped on for a while, but in the end, we called it a day. It was a mutual decision by the end, and to be honest I just felt huge relief that it was all over. That must sound cold, but we’d been through so much, and all I had left was self-preservation.’
‘I can understand that,’ Kate said. ‘It must have just got to a point when you’d forgotten what it was you wanted in the first place, and just got immersed in the process.’ She was reminded of the last months of her own marriage; how she and Phil had become two people who talked about their kids and nothing else, really. All common ground had gone by the end. Perhaps that situation wasn’t so different to Harry’s experiences of trying to have children in the first place; both were all consuming, if poles apart.
Harry nodded, swallowed hard and, as if to distract himself, took another gulp of his tea. ‘All the counselling in the world can only get you so far. Eventually, you just need to make a decision. Nicola and I made ours, and the rest, as they say, is history.’ He gazed down into his now empty mug.
