He looked at her, eyebrows lifted in query, and raised his hands in a gesture of confusion.
‘What the . . .?’
Sarah shook her head. ‘I – it just – I thought maybe he’d changed.’
‘People like that don’t change.’
‘But he said he was sorry, and that he’d messed up, and that he wanted us to start again.’
‘Of course he did.’ Jake exhaled a puff of breath, trying his best to stay level-headed. ‘And how long d’you think it would be before he hit you again? Abusers follow a pattern, Sarah – we’ve talked about this – we’ve read about it.’
‘I know.’ She sagged. ‘I just – he turned up, all charming, and I thought . . . but then today we were going to take the dogs out and he changed his mind at the last minute. It’s stupid – he got angry because Mabel was growling at him, and he said they could eff off.’
‘Dogs are a pretty good judge of character, usually.’
‘I know.’ She hitched herself up onto the kitchen worktop and sat there, cross-legged. She looked tiny and fragile, and he felt a wave of brotherly protectiveness. He had to do whatever the hell he could to get her away from that man.
A loud snore emitted from the sitting room.
‘I’ve had an idea.’ He pushed a hand through his hair, screwing up his face in thought. ‘You have your passport with you, don’t you?’ It was one of the handful of essential documents that had been in her almost-empty rucksack when she arrived.
‘Yeah, it’s upstairs in my room. Why?’
‘Right. You get off upstairs and have an early night. I’ll stay down here and keep an eye on knobhead, make sure he doesn’t try wandering if he wakes up. Although after the amount of red wine he put away, I’d be surprised.’
‘Thanks.’ She hopped down from the counter. ‘Why are you asking about my passport?’
‘Just an idea. Leave it with me.’
He waited until she’d gone upstairs and there was silence, and then he picked up his phone.
Chapter Thirty-three
Hannah decided the best thing to do was leave the rainbow book display exactly the way it was. The photographer would just have to take them as they found them – and it would at least give the readers something to talk about. If there was one thing she’d learned since taking over, it was that people had a lot of opinions about books, and bookshops, and just how things should be.
She woke early, creeping downstairs to let Pinky out, and was surprised to discover that the village was sparkling with a layer of frost. The grass was shimmering white and the leaves of the hedge outside the cottage looked as if each one had been carefully and individually rimed. It was absolutely beautiful, with the lights of the village Christmas tree twinkling in the early morning darkness.
She dressed in a knee-length woollen sweater dress and tights, with a pair of chunky brown biker boots finishing off the outfit. Hopefully they wouldn’t want her in the photo, but if they did, at least she’d look halfway decent.
The shop was busy when the photographer turned up – almost an hour late, at lunchtime – and she had to juggle customers and deal with him at the same time. Just to top it off, her phone rang and she missed it, cursing under her breath when she saw it was a call from Jake. Her stomach tightened with nervous tension.
It only took a few moments for the photographer to get the shots he wanted and then he whisked off in his bashed-up old Kia, skidding slightly on the still-icy road. The journalist was calling to do the interview at some point, as well. Hannah looked at the phone – should she ring Jake back? He hadn’t left a message, which seemed like – well, maybe whatever he had to say wouldn’t work in a text.
She decided that she’d just leave him to it and hope he got in touch. Meanwhile, she had Christmas to prepare for and Ben had one last match to play. At least there – for better or worse – she’d see Jake and find out what was going on. All she had to do, meanwhile, was get organized for the return of Beth and Lauren, who were coming to spend the holiday with them. It would be strange to welcome her cousin back into the cottage where she’d lived for so long, and Hannah was determined to make it a Christmas to remember for all of them.
She and Ben sat in the car in silence on the way to his next training session. There was still no word from Jake, and Hannah was trying her hardest not to feel upset. But by now she had convinced herself that she was just another notch on his football player’s goalpost, and that their burgeoning friendship hadn’t meant as much to him as it had to her.
‘I’ll just have to chalk it down to experience,’ she’d told Katie the night before, trying to sound brave.
‘Or you could ring him and find out what the fuck is going on?’ Katie was her usual straight-talking self.
‘No.’ Hannah was resolute. ‘I’m not chasing him. And I’ve got other stuff to deal with, anyway.’
‘What stuff?’
‘Oh, God. Phil.’ Hannah shook her head. ‘Apparently he’s moved this new woman into the house, and the chances of him actually bothering to get down here to see Ben before Christmas are looking even slimmer now.’
‘I wonder if she knows what a div he is?’ Katie said, scathingly.
‘I dunno.’ Hannah shook her head. ‘To be honest, I’m just relieved he’s not my problem anymore. Is that bad?’
‘No, it’s quite the opposite. You spent all those years holding stuff together and washing his sodding underpants. At least they’re not your responsibility anymore.’
Hannah grimaced. The thought of Phil – not to mention his underpants – filled her with a vague sense of discomfort. Whatever happened between her and Jake, the one thing she had resolved was that she’d never settle for just good enough ever again.
‘Another gorgeous morning,’ said one of the dads, joining her at the side of the pitch as a gust of rain blew into their faces.
She shook her head and laughed. ‘Someone said the forecast was for winter sunshine and showers. I think they must’ve forgotten to order the sunshine.’
‘He’s settled in well, hasn’t he?’ He nodded in Ben’s direction, watching as he jogged towards the group of boys starting to warm up on the other side of the pitch. ‘He’s certainly made a difference. We’ve never had someone play up front who can actually aim the ball at the net and get it in.’
She was used to the dry humour of football parents by now. Most of them would make fun of their team when the boys weren’t listening, but their self-deprecating humour gave way to positive and encouraging support when the after-match team talk took place. It helped that the Little Maudley team had Jake at the helm. He was firm but positive and had a way of getting the best out of everyone, coaxing better playing out of them than anyone had ever done before.
‘Not many Saturday league teams can say they’ve got an England player as coach,’ the man went on with a nod of approval. ‘We’re doing pretty well, all things considered. We thought the team was going to have to fold last spring when Gary got sick.’
‘No Jake today, though, I see?’ Hannah kept her tone casual.
He shook his head. ‘No, Gary’s covering for him. I guess he’s busy or something.’
She bit her lip and tried to disguise her concern. As far as she knew, this was the first time since he’d taken over that Jake hadn’t shown up for training.
‘I thought it was just a training session today,’ she commented, nodding towards where another team of boys was warming up across the pitch.
‘Nope.’ One of the other mums – hood up and scarf covering half her face against the weather – shook her head. ‘Apparently they set up a friendly.’
The first half dragged by. Neither team seemed at their best, and the heavy driving rain wasn’t helping. It was a while before Hannah realized that the figure making its way along the sidelines towards her had a familiar gait, head tucked into a hood against the rain.
‘Hello, stranger.’
She peered at him, not quite believing what she was
seeing. ‘Phil?’
They stepped away from the two parents she’d been standing chatting with. ‘What the hell are you doing here?’ Hannah asked him. ‘You didn’t say you were coming.’
‘I know. I thought maybe we could have lunch and talk, only I forgot you’d be at football.’
She pursed her lips momentarily. Of course he’d forgotten – not once in all the time Ben had been playing had he ever gone to a game, claiming that he had a violent aversion to the sport. She bit back a sharp comment, deciding to be the bigger person.
‘Every weekend, yes.’ She tucked a limp strand of wet hair behind her ear and adjusted her hood, which was doing nothing much to keep the rain out. ‘There are a couple of Saturday staff who cover the shop, so it works perfectly. I’m on hand if there are any problems, because it’s not far.’
‘Bloody far enough in the pissing rain,’ Phil said, shaking his head. ‘Anyway, look. We need to talk about stuff.’
‘What stuff?’
‘Us stuff. I mean the thing is, we’re splitting up, right?’
She frowned at him. On the pitch, the half-time whistle had just blown and she could see Gary beckoning the boys into a huddle, where they were gulping down energy drinks and listening to what he had to say. She could tell by his body language that it was along the lines of if you’re going to get up on a Saturday morning and play, you need to actually put some effort in – which seemed reasonable, given how they were faring.
‘Who’s that?’ Phil screwed up his eyes, trying to see through the rain, which had settled to a misty sort of drizzle.
‘Gary,’ she said patiently. ‘The coach.’
‘Oh, right.’ He shrugged. ‘You know me and football. Is that the famous one Ben’s been going on about every time we’ve spoken?’
‘No,’ she said. ‘And, well, the usual coach, Jake, was famous. Now he’s just a perfectly normal person living in the village.’
‘Bet he’s got an attitude, though. You can’t be that famous without getting a massive big head and an ego problem.’
‘He does not,’ she said. ‘He’s lovely, and he’d do anything for the boys. He’s given up two evenings a week to training them, and he’s—’
‘All right, all right, enough about your new football boyfriend.’
‘He’s not my football boyfriend. He’s been an amazing influence on Ben, that’s all.’
‘And I haven’t?’ Phil looked injured.
She looked at him sideways. It was the weirdest thing, distance. They’d been together all those years and she’d never really questioned it, just assuming that what they had was love and that they were happy together. And now she looked at him and felt – nothing. Nothing apart from a vague fondness, and a nagging sense that she’d spent sixteen years of her life not really feeling much. Maybe that was unfair.
‘Of course you are,’ she said, over-generously. ‘I bet he’ll be delighted to see you here.’
‘Oh, I wasn’t planning on staying for the whole thing,’ he said, looking up at the sky. ‘It’s pissing down, for one thing, and I’ve got – well, I’ve got dinner plans.’
‘You have?’ She spun round to face him, realizing as the other parents looked up in alarm that she’d almost shouted that, rather than saying it.
‘Yeah. Well. It’s – well. Look, the thing is, I wanted to do the right thing, Han.’
She swallowed.
‘I met Gemma through work. Nothing happened,’ he said, quickly, in response to her eyebrows shooting skywards. ‘Nothing happened until you and I were over.’
‘I didn’t say it did?’
‘I know, it’s just – well, with her having moved in and everything, I don’t want you getting the wrong idea.’
‘I haven’t. I mean –’ She tried to find a nice way to say that she really didn’t care, and couldn’t think of the words. ‘It’s fine. Honestly.’
Phil stood, grumbling about the cold, until the game was over. ‘I don’t know why you don’t wait in the car,’ he said, hands thrust deep into his pockets.
‘Because I like watching him play,’ she said, trying not to roll her eyes like a teenager. ‘And because—’
‘Because what?’
She wanted to say, Because one of us had to be the kind of parent who pulls their weight. But she bit her tongue again. There was no point in trying to change who he was now. Phil was Phil, and that was that.
To give him his due, he did take Ben out for lunch to the village pub, which gave her the chance to go home and sink into a hot bath to try and defrost after two hours standing in freezing rain. She picked up her phone and idly checked her Facebook account, almost dropping it in shock when she realized there were hundreds of notifications.
‘This Village Bookshop is A Dream’, said the article she was being tagged in. She clicked on the link. The newspaper had led with the rainbow shelves of the bookshop on their piece about the different ways that books were finding their way into the hands of shoppers these days, and it seemed to have caught the imagination of book lovers online. The journalist had written about how the bookshop had been an offshoot of the telephone box library, and there were hundreds of comments. She’d been tagged, it had been shared all over the place, and the village Facebook group was going absolutely bonkers.
Well, this will put Little Maudley on the map, Helen had written in a private message. That was a piece of clever thinking.
The next few days were a whirlwind. The Christmas holidays had begun, and there was a steady increase in the number of visitors to the bookshop. Helen was delighted to announce that the takings were making a real difference to the fundraiser for the village hall kitchen, and shared the good news on the Facebook group.
‘Well,’ Beth said, arriving on Christmas Eve, ‘you seem to be a complete hit here in Little Maudley, doesn’t she, Lauren?’
Hannah flushed pink. She didn’t want her cousin to feel as if she was treading on her toes, but Beth seemed genuinely delighted for her.
‘You’re so much better at the whole village thing than me,’ Beth said, standing in the shop taking in the changes. ‘This place looks amazing.’
Christmas was strange, but fun. Hannah had always found something oddly intense about spending time just the three of them, but with Beth and Lauren it was far more enjoyable. They spent the day eating until they were stuffed, watching terrible television shows and snoozing on the sofa. It was exactly what they all needed, Hannah decided, climbing into bed that night.
Boxing Day flew past, and the next morning Hannah was downstairs at the crack of dawn, getting things ready and preparing for the villagers to descend as if they’d been deprived of shopping for a month instead of two days. Lovely as it had been to see Beth and Lauren, she was looking forward to it being just herself and Ben in the cottage again – and not having to listen to constant reminders of the way Beth had done things when she was running the shop.
Phil had been expected to come down on Christmas Eve to see Ben, but nobody was the slightest bit surprised when he cancelled, asking if he could see Ben the following weekend instead. Beth was now upstairs packing her things in the cottage, and Hannah tidying up the shelves of the bookshop, which had been busy all morning. They’d even sold several of Ben’s paintings, so he was completely over the moon and already planning the expensive new trainers he was going to buy with the proceeds. He was catching a lift into Oxford with Beth and Lauren that morning, and Hannah was looking forward to catching up with Katie for a chat.
‘Hello,’ she said, picking up the phone. ‘Thought you were calling at two?’
‘I was,’ Katie said, ‘But I had to get out of the house before any more of the Christmas chocolate fell into my face. I’m on the cross trainer. Can you hear me okay?’
‘Of course.’ Hannah propped the phone up on the counter. ‘I’m in the shop, though, so I might need to hang up if it gets busy. You know how it is after Christmas, everyone’s popping in for bread and milk.’
‘And wine?’
‘Oh yeah, and wine. All the essentials.’
‘So,’ Katie said, diving straight in on the attack. ‘Phil.’
‘I can’t believe he’s ducked out again. He’s barely seen Ben since we split up.’
‘I’m just surprised you’re surprised,’ Katie said, with the distant bass thud of the gym in the background. Hannah felt tired just thinking about it.
‘He just seems to have done that thing where he’s gone out of sight, out of mind. He wasn’t that shit a parent when I was living with him, was he?’
‘Yes he was. You just made excuses for him constantly, and now he’s not part of your life you’re seeing what the rest of us could see.’
Hannah groaned. ‘Well, cheers for that, now I feel like a complete idiot.’
‘Not an idiot,’ Katie said cheerfully. ‘Just a bit of a mug.’
‘That whole straight-talking friend thing can go a bit too far,’ Hannah retorted.
‘Fair enough.’ She could imagine Katie’s shrug. ‘But the truth is you’ve done all the spadework bringing Ben up, and now—’
‘And now Phil’s dumped him the second he has some new woman on the scene, and hasn’t even bothered to tell him himself? Apparently she’s moved her kids in with him, did I tell you that?’
The door closed quietly behind her and Hannah spun around. Ben was standing there, a blank expression on his face, eyebrows lifted a fraction. He was dressed for his trip to Oxford, a rucksack on his back.
‘Got to go,’ Hannah said quickly to Katie. ‘Speak to you later.’
Ben was standing, arms by his sides, hands fisted. His jaw was rigid. Hannah moved towards him, reaching out a hand to him, and when she touched his arm it felt tense as a coiled spring.
The Village Green Bookshop: A Feel-Good Escape for All Book Lovers from the Bestselling Author of The Telephone Box Library Page 23
