The Village Green Bookshop: A Feel-Good Escape for All Book Lovers from the Bestselling Author of The Telephone Box Library

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The Village Green Bookshop: A Feel-Good Escape for All Book Lovers from the Bestselling Author of The Telephone Box Library Page 18

by Rachael Lucas


  It turned out to be one of those days. He got to the field and realized he’d forgotten their bibs, which meant he had to get one of the other parents to nip back to the house and collect them from the porch where he’d left them sitting in a bag. Then the goalkeeper called in sick with a twisted ankle, and he had to put their second – by a long way – choice in net. And there was no sign of Ben, or Hannah.

  The lads started warming up, and he pushed them in the hope of making up for the other night’s training debacle. Watching them side-skipping from one side of the pitch to the other, he checked his watch and glanced back over his shoulder. Where the hell was Ben? He was the linchpin of the team. Without him they’d have little to no chance – especially without the keeper – of beating the grammar school.

  Five minutes before kickoff, he saw Ben jogging across the field.

  ‘Come on,’ he yelled.

  ‘Sorry.’ Ben lifted a hand in apology and pulled off his hoody, throwing it with his bottle of water by the side of the pitch.

  ‘Where the hell were you?’

  ‘Just didn’t notice the time.’ He gave a half shrug. This wasn’t like Ben – he was normally on time, happy to help out before and after the game, keen to soak up as much of the atmosphere as he could. He looked dazed as well, as if he’d just rolled out of bed.

  Jake fixed him with a glare. There wasn’t time to deal with this before the match, but he’d be bollocking him for it afterwards.

  ‘Right, lads—’ he began, but was interrupted by a tap on the shoulder.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Hello, stranger.’ Melissa Harrington, dressed in expensive country casuals with her hair curling from underneath a tweed cap, was standing beside him, looking all set for a cosy chat. He gritted his teeth and tried to look less irritable than he felt.

  ‘Hi.’ He gave her a fleeting smile and then said, ‘Do excuse me, I need to have a last-minute word with the team.’

  ‘No problem,’ she said, not taking the hint and continuing to stand there. Jake longed for Hannah to appear, with her calm nature and easy-going way of making everything seem all right, but there was no sign of her.

  He beckoned the boys into a huddle and gave them some last-minute instructions. ‘You can do this,’ he finished. ‘There’s absolutely no reason why we can’t smash it.’

  ‘Except their defence look like rugby players,’ said one of the lads, disconsolately.

  ‘That is precisely the attitude we do not need. Now get out there and show them what you’re all made of.’

  By half time, they were two goals down. Jake glanced across the field in the hope he might see Hannah as he was giving them a pep talk, trying to lift their spirits up, but it was like pushing a rock up a hill and there was no sign of her. It was pretty clear their heads were down and trying to get them back on course was going to be tough work. Melissa was delighted that she’d popped by to see her boys completely crushing the opposition and at the final whistle, despite a late goal, the score was 3–1 to Ridgeway. Jake took a deep breath, straightened his shoulders and went to shake hands with the other team manager.

  ‘Such a good little team you’ve got here,’ Melissa said, smiling at him as if at a charity case.

  ‘Thanks.’ He wasn’t going to rise to it. The Ridgeway boys were joking about, slapping each other on the back, clearly feeling that they’d proved their superiority. ‘Your lads played brilliantly. You must be pleased with them.’

  ‘Delighted.’ Melissa put a hand on his arm and lowered her voice. ‘Of course, if you wanted to, the offer still stands. I’m sure the village team could find another coach.’

  ‘That’s kind,’ he said, hoping his face didn’t betray him. ‘But no, I’m more than happy coaching the lads. We’ve got some really good players – a couple of them have a good chance of being scouted.’

  ‘Mmm,’ Melissa said, nodding. ‘We were just discussing that. That tall boy with the dark hair – number twelve. He’d be an asset to our team. I wonder if his parents would be interested in chatting about a scholarship.’

  ‘I don’t think so,’ Jake said, more sharply than he intended to.

  ‘Are you sure? I think most parents would be delighted with the prospect. We could take him all the way through to university – we’ve got an excellent sixth form, as you probably know.’

  ‘Mmm,’ he said, politely. He had no idea what their sixth form was like, nor did he have any intention of finding out. And the idea of Melissa smarming into the shop and trying to charm Ben away made him feel quite irrationally angry. It was typical of someone who’d grown up with that sort of privilege and it riled him. Ben could go far, and he realized in that moment that he wanted to be the one who guided him.

  He stopped by the shop on the way back, telling himself it was because he needed something to cook later. Hannah was on her hands and knees, unpacking a box of books.

  ‘Hi,’ he said, making her jump.

  ‘Oh!’ She turned, falling over in the process, and without thinking he put out a hand to pull her up. She stood facing him for a moment, her hand still in his, and he felt an overwhelming urge to pull her into his arms and hold her close. This was getting ridiculous, and he was behaving like an idiot.

  ‘You must be a good luck charm,’ he said, picking up a copy of Pride and Prejudice from the shelf and turning it over to read the back.

  ‘I am,’ she said, teasing. ‘I hear it didn’t go so well?’

  ‘That’s an understatement.’

  ‘Yeah, sorry about Ben being late – I don’t imagine that helped him, somehow.’

  He shook his head. ‘It’s fine. Not your fault.’

  ‘I could have got him out of bed, but I got caught up down here. Helen brought a load of books – these are all brand new, can you believe it?’

  ‘The bookshop’s going to be making a fortune in no time.’

  ‘That’s the plan. I think they might be on course to rebuild the village hall kitchen sometime in 2022 at this rate.’

  They both laughed.

  ‘D’you think I should read this?’ He waved the book in the air. ‘I’ve got to find something to discuss at the book group next time.’ They’d decided on a theme of sisterhood for the next meeting.

  ‘Well, I’m biased,’ Hannah said, leaning back against the bookcase and unconsciously reaching for a lock of hair to twirl round her finger. ‘I love Jane Austen. She’s really funny, which is something they don’t mention at school when they’re trying to get you to read stuff like that.’

  ‘Yeah, I avoided more English classes than I went to when I was at school.’

  ‘Sounds like someone I know.’ Hannah looked over her shoulder at Ben, who had just appeared in the shop, showered, his dark hair still wet. He gave a nod of greeting.

  ‘All right?’

  ‘I gather you were up late last night?’ He fixed him with a mock-disapproving look.

  ‘Mum,’ Ben said, shaking his head.

  ‘Just saying,’ Hannah laughed. ‘If you want to be a professional player, you’re going to have to start taking this stuff seriously.’

  ‘She’s right.’ He wanted to find the right balance between keeping Ben grounded and trying to let him know that he really had the potential to go far. This was the point where things were going to start happening, and if he wanted it he was going to need to learn to focus. When Jake had been a professional player, the game had pretty much been his life.

  ‘I had a missed call from Dad earlier,’ Ben said. ‘Asking if he could come down next week. I’d have to miss the game though.’

  Hannah raised an eyebrow. ‘And you want to do that?’

  Ben shook his head. ‘Not really. Just feel like I ought to be around if he’s coming down.’

  ‘After the way we played today, Ben, we need all the bodies on the pitch we can get. He needs to fit around your game,’ said Jake, speaking without thinking. ‘It’s only two hours.’

  What the hell was he doing? He shouldn’
t have said that – it wasn’t his place. It wasn’t as if he was Ben’s parent, or had any right to an opinion.

  But Hannah, although she looked a little surprised, nodded. ‘Jake’s right, you know.’

  Ben shrugged slightly. ‘Yeah, you’re probably right. I’ll tell him no.’

  ‘You don’t need to do that,’ Hannah said. ‘Just tell him he needs to come after football.’

  ‘Okay,’ Ben said, and disappeared out the front door into the rain, which had started pouring down outside.

  ‘You’ve forgotten your coat,’ she called, but he was gone.

  ‘Sorry,’ he said. ‘I shouldn’t have butted in.’

  ‘No, you’re right. Phil can’t just disappear from Ben’s life and then randomly decide to call all the shots because he’s at a loose end one weekend.’

  Jake grimaced, feeling awkward. ‘Yeah – I just don’t want to see Ben throwing away his chances.’

  ‘I know.’ Hannah smiled at him. Then a woman and her two children came in and started asking questions about the bookshop. Jake gave her a brief wave of the hand as he left.

  It wasn’t until he got back to the house that he realized he’d gone in and not bought anything. Sodden and pissed off, he got out of the car and slammed the door harder than he’d meant to, setting off both dogs uncharacteristically barking from within the kitchen. By the time he got inside, they were utterly convinced that he was a burglar and not their master. They’d clearly been freaked out by a stranger coming to collect the bibs before the game earlier, because normally they’d be more likely to lick him to death than bark at him. He stood in the middle of the kitchen, leaning on the huge island, letting them circle and sniff him until they’d satisfied themselves that he wasn’t an impostor.

  ‘At least I know you two are decent guard dogs,’ he said, patting both of them on the head and peeling off his soaked coat. He slung it over a hook above the Aga – it would be dry in no time – and headed for the shower.

  It was amazing how bloody cold it got in late autumn standing by the pitch for a couple of hours. He washed his hair and watched the soapy water run down his leg; the scar from the operation to repair his shattered bone went a livid red in the cold. He grabbed a towel, dried himself off and headed for the bedroom to throw on a t-shirt and some grey tracksuit bottoms.

  He flicked through the channels on TV, got up, made himself a coffee, came back to the sitting room and collapsed on the sofa, one foot up on the coffee table. Sarah was nowhere to be seen – probably in the bath, or lying in bed watching Netflix. Sometimes this place just felt ridiculously huge – a testament to the ostentation of high-level football. What the hell did he want with eight bedrooms and a snooker room? He got up and paced across the floor, looking out at the sweep of gravel and the perfectly maintained lawn. It was bloody ridiculous. He looked at his phone again – maybe he could just give her a ring? Or send a quick message, just to say sorry for being a bit off? He typed her name in and saw her face looking back from a tiny image on the screen.

  Hi

  Meg lolloped in and knocked his hand so that he hit the send button by accident. Oh, shit. Well, that was that decision made. Now he’d better send something else or he would look weirdly creepy.

  Hello. Have you dried off? You looked soaked earlier.

  Hannah’s reply was instant, which threw him.

  Yes, and defrosted. Had a bath when I got back.

  God, lucky you – I’d love to jump in a bath right now.

  Do not think about Hannah in the bath, he told himself, fruitlessly. He imagined her surrounded by bubbles, hair tied up, those little twirly bits that always seemed to come loose hanging around her neck. He banged his forehead with his open palm and groaned. For God’s sake, man.

  I just wanted to check you were . . . He paused, wondering what to type. He deleted it and started again.

  Is Ben okay? I feel bad for sticking my oar in.

  Yeah, his dad’s ducked out of next weekend anyway – I think he’s feeling pretty low on the priority list.

  I’m sorry. That’s shit. Is he okay?

  He wanted to type And are you? – because really, that was what was nagging at him. Whatever the hell that ex had done to her, he wanted to get in his car and drive down to wherever he was and tell him in no uncertain terms what he thought of him and the way he was treating her – and Ben, for that matter. He was a nice lad, and he deserved better than a deadbeat who couldn’t even summon up the enthusiasm to hang around and watch the game.

  I’m sure he will be after an afternoon playing on the Xbox with his mates.

  Jake chuckled.

  That sounds about right.

  He couldn’t think what to say next. What he ached to say was why don’t you come up here this afternoon, I’ll make you dinner and we can sit in front of the fire and drink red wine and talk? Instead he just stared at the screen for a few more moments, then sent a brief:

  Glad to hear he’s okay.

  He put his phone down on the coffee table, stretched his legs out and ran his hands through his still-damp hair. God, why was it so bloody difficult? He’d always found it easy enough to go out on casual dates with women, and relationships had been – well, he’d never really felt like he’d found the one, but he hadn’t found it hard to form them. And yet somehow, now, he seemed shy and self-conscious.

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Hannah was relieved that after Jake’s pep talk, Ben seemed to have settled back to his new state of behaving relatively well at school. Parents’ evening passed uneventfully – his teachers seemed to feel he was doing fine, on the whole, and working hard towards his exams. She raised an eyebrow at that, knowing perfectly well that he was spending more time playing FIFA or actual football than working on revision, but she’d resigned herself to hoping that if he could just pass the five GCSEs he needed to get into sixth form college, he’d be all right. They’d gone along to the local sixth form, which offered a BTEC in sports science, and with that in mind he seemed reasonably focused. Chatting to the other parents on the side of the pitch at the weekends, it seemed they were all in the same boat: as Jake had once observed to her, not everyone was cut out for academia.

  She still hankered after it, though, and with Oxford so close at hand it felt like a reminder of a life she could have had but which had been whisked away. One weekend they went down to visit Beth and Lauren, happily settled now in Aunt Jess’s old house in the middle of the city. Ben and Lauren went off together and spent a small fortune in JD Sports while Hannah and Beth put the world to rights over coffee and cake, then dinner and wine.

  ‘If you ever want me to come back and do shop duty,’ Beth had said, pouring them another glass of red, ‘just shout.’

  ‘Are you missing it?’

  ‘Weirdly, a bit, yes.’

  ‘I thought you were desperate to escape Little Maudley.’

  ‘I was. But I miss the village gossip. What’s going on? Any interesting news to report?’

  Hannah shook her head. ‘I don’t tend to hear that much.’

  ‘You’re not asking the right questions.’ Beth chuckled. ‘I was an expert at wheedling info out of people. It’s a talent, y’know.’

  Hannah sipped her wine and didn’t reply. She could hardly tell Beth how much the villagers clearly appreciated not having to fend off exactly that sort of wheedling. Often they forgot that she and Beth were related, and when they mentioned how nice it was with Hannah at the helm, she felt a little bit awkward that her cousin had apparently ruffled so many feathers.

  ‘How’s the online dating going?’ Hannah changed the subject.

  ‘Oh my God,’ Beth said, shaking her head in amusement. ‘You wouldn’t believe how many utter idiots there are out there.’

  ‘So you haven’t fallen madly in love with any of them?’

  ‘Lust, perhaps.’ Beth looked misty-eyed for a moment. ‘I had a one-night stand with a guy who was only twenty-five. Looked like Kit Harrington from Game of Thr
ones. Let me show you his photo . . .’ She scrolled through her phone and passed it over.

  ‘Ooh.’ Hannah had to admit he was cute. ‘What happened?’

  ‘Well.’ Beth gave a dirty laugh. ‘I’ll leave that to the imagination. But it made me realize that I wasn’t in a rush to get into a relationship. I’ve no desire to wash someone’s underwear when I could be out having fun.’

  ‘Good for you.’ Hannah reached forward and helped herself to some crisps.

  ‘I take it that you’ve not had any excitement in that department since you’ve moved to the village?’

  ‘Hardly.’ Hannah suppressed a thought about Jake, and how much she’d enjoyed spending the night chatting with him at Helen’s dinner party and again at the book group. Not to mention how much she was looking forward to the following weekend, when she’d offered to come along by minibus to Milton Keynes for an away match. ‘No, I’m quite happy as I am.’

  ‘Not missing Phil?’

  She shook her head. ‘Not at all. Is that weird?’

  ‘To be honest, Han, it would be weird if you were. I always wondered why you two stayed together all that time.’

  Hannah shrugged. ‘I dunno. I think I just sort of thought that I should do the right thing.’

  ‘The right thing being staying with a bloke who made zero effort and who you clearly didn’t even fancy?’

  ‘Oh shush.’ Hannah laughed, feeling embarrassed. ‘I didn’t want to mess up things with Ben.’

  ‘Because he was clearly getting so much out of his relationship with his father, right? How many times has he been down to visit since you split up?’

  ‘Um, once.’ It was already November, and since they’d split he’d managed one midweek visit. Hannah had bitten her tongue and not pointed out that he was combining it with a trip to Oxford for a sales conference, and had even given him the spare room. And then Ben, whom he’d come to see, had sloped off to a friend’s house after half an hour claiming he had to do a project for Geography. She’d sighed in despair and left Phil at the cottage, heading into Bletchingham to pick up fish and chips for their dinner.

 

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