The Little Bookshop at Herring Cove

by Kellie Hailes

  But first he had to get said person to open her mouth and let words fall out.

  ‘Do you ever get sick of that view, Sophie? Stupendous doesn’t even begin to cover it.’ He stopped in the middle of the road and took in the panoramic vista before him.

  Thunderous clouds in bruised shades huddled close to the water, turning it grey. Streaks of sun that had managed to break through the clouds sent glistening fingers dancing across the water. Ever present, yet ever changing.

  Sophie stopped a few steps ahead of him and followed Alexander’s gaze.

  ‘I’d forgotten how beautiful it was. When you see it every day, I guess you forget it’s there,’ she shrugged.

  Alexander jogged the few steps to catch up with her. ‘I can’t believe anyone would take something so beautiful for granted.’ Alexander dropped his gaze from the view to face Sophie. ‘I certainly wouldn’t.’

  Sophie’s shoulders shuddered in a shiver. Strange, since it was still warm out.

  ‘Cold?’

  ‘Just a bit.’ Sophie continued her march towards the pub. ‘It may be summer, but the sea breeze still makes things a little chilly, especially with the sun ducking in and out of those clouds.’ She rubbed her hands over her arms, grimacing as if to emphasise her point. ‘Here we are.’ Sophie stopped outside the pub, ‘Reel Her Inn’.

  Alexander took in the riot of colour spilling from the twin flower boxes sitting either side of the front door. Orange and yellow nasturtiums wandered their way over the edges, flanked by brilliant green foliage. A stunning contrast to the stark white walls of the pub. The windows were thrown open, and the sound of live piano floated into the street.

  ‘After you.’ Alexander indicated for her to go through with a small flourish of his hand.

  ‘Not this time.’ Sophie matched his hand flourish, then folded her arms over her chest and tapped one foot impatiently. ‘After you.’

  With a shake of his head, Alexander did as he was told and strolled into the pub. He paused and looked around, unsure of what he was seeing. More unsure of his place amongst the crowd that had gathered.

  A rope had been affixed from one end of the pub to the other, creating an even divide. Two signs on either side of the rope hung from the roof. Written on one in bold black lettering was ‘Pro’, the other ‘No’.

  Knots formed in Alexander’s stomach as he put it all together. This wasn’t some village quirk, this was a village divided, literally. Because of the Fletcher Group’s plans for Herring Cove.

  He backed up, straight into Sophie.

  ‘Careful.’ She side-stepped around him and waved to the man on the piano, who was playing a jaunty jazz tune.

  ‘Sophie, darling. Welcome! Pick a side!’ he called, as his fingers danced over the keys. ‘Before you do, though, are you in the mood for a little pop? I could switch. Although the muse of jazz seems to have filled my soul this good day.’

  ‘Keep with the jazz, Rob.’ Sophie silent-clapped his playing as she weaved her way round the tables dotted with local fishermen nursing pints of golden lager and families enjoying an early dinner of fish and chips with lemonades, lagers and crisp white wines to wash them down.

  Alexander followed, unsure of what to do, what to make of the situation. Should he sit in the Pro area? That’s where he belonged. Then again, if he was here as Sophie’s guest it would be rude to sit there when he should be sitting with her in the No area.

  ‘Hey Sherry, what’s with the rope of separation?’

  Alexander turned his attention to the conversation between Sophie and the woman standing behind the bar pulling their pints.

  ‘A necessary evil, I’m afraid.’ She placed one froth-topped glass down in front of Sophie and began to pour another. ‘We hated putting it up, separating friends and family, but at least poor Rob’s not having to break up fights every other minute. Honestly,’ she shook her head, ‘what idiot thought building a resort was a good idea in a place like this?’

  Sophie muffled a snort with her hand and turned it into a cough. ‘Sorry, breathed in wrong. No idea, Sherry. Hopefully they’ll see sense and put a stop to it.’

  ‘Wouldn’t hold my breath. Money-hungry beggars like that don’t think past their snotty noses.’

  ‘Indeed.’ Sophie’s tone was solemn as she paid and picked up the pints.

  All hints of solemnity disappeared as she handed Alexander his pint with a wink, an impish grin on her face.

  His heart did a random flip-flop at the cuteness of Sophie’s act.

  And there was that word again. Cute. Yet she really was. Even when Sophie was telling him to bugger off, she was cute. From the tip of her cute button nose, to the bottoms of her cute petite sandalled feet, which he had seen on more than one occasion begin to lift up in what he guessed was a stamp before being slowly set down again. Even her self-control was cute.

  She was so different to the women he socialised with in London. Women his parents deemed acceptable. All from good families, all driven by success, all understanding of what was expected of them as a potential partner of a future CEO of a multimillion-dollar company.

  Yet none of them made his heart tumble and turn. Not like the woman whose grin had turned impatient as he stood staring at her like a gormless wonder.

  ‘Oh, sorry. Was caught up in my own head. Business stuff. You know how it is. Always something to think about.’ Alexander took a sip of beer to stop any more blather.

  Sophie flicked her index finger in the direction of a spot behind him. He turned to see Natalie and the kids, Ginny and a man who, guessing by the proprietary fingers caressing the back of his neck, was Ginny’s husband, Mike.

  An unaccustomed swarm of nerves was making its presence felt in his stomach. It was one thing to sit with a group of people at a business meeting, or to catch up with old school friends at the pub, but to join a close-knit group of friends who shared history, a bond, and – based on their seating position – strong beliefs on the plans his family had for Herring Cove? Unsettling didn’t even begin to cover it.

  Although, at least with the pub divided in half it was easy to see where he stood with the villagers. More so at Sophie’s friend’s table as they’d dragged a table to sit square in the middle. The rope running across it emphasised the separation of thoughts and beliefs in the community.

  Ginny was sitting on the ‘No’ side. Mike, beside her, had taken up residence on the Pro side. Natalie and the kids were also, unsurprisingly, ‘Pro’. A seat was open beside Natalie’s kids, presumably for Alexander. Another by Ginny was empty, clearly for Sophie.

  ‘That rope wasn’t here two days ago,’ murmured Sophie as they excuse me’d their way around other customers to their table. ‘Things must’ve really gone downhill.’

  Alexander didn’t reply. Didn’t know what to say. He’d never seen anything like this. He knew there was always an element of discontent when a Fletcher resort was proposed in a community. Environmental groups, usually, who were worried about the effect population growth and potential pollution would have on wildlife and their way of life. But he’d never heard of friends and families having to be separated. Of a community literally divided.

  Was Sophie right? Was Herring Cove the wrong place for the Fletcher Group to expand into? Would it do more damage than good?

  Sophie sank into the chair left open for her, and indicated for Alexander to follow suit. He went to pull out his chair to sit in, but found himself pulling it to where the rope was. He lifted the chair and placed it squarely over the top of the rope, right in the centre. Half and half.

  His parents would see his choosing neutral ground as a betrayal, but his heart saw it as right. True to himself. To who he was. A man who wanted success, wanted growth, in a way that was fair to all. That lifted people up and brought communities together.

  ‘Interesting place to sit.’ Ginny raised her eyebrows. ‘I hear you’ve been busy building shelves for Sophie?’

  ‘Just the one. But I’m happy to do more, if she�
��ll let me.’

  ‘I’ll make sure she lets you.’ Ginny nodded, ignoring the sharp elbow that came from Sophie’s direction. ‘It’s not every day a man offers to build shelves for free, no strings attached.’

  ‘I wouldn’t say there were no strings…’ Sophie muttered into her beer. ‘I suspect Alexander’s still hoping he’ll get me to change my mind about selling. Guilt me into doing it through good deeds.’

  Ginny rolled her eyes. ‘Always so suspicious, Soph.’

  ‘And wrongfully so.’ Alexander picked up the menu that was placed in the centre of the table and ran his eyes over it. ‘I’ve accepted Sophie’s decision. I’ve also been straight up in saying that her not selling won’t stop the project going ahead and, as far as I’m concerned, that is that.’

  ‘Well, I’m all for the project. I’m Mike by the way.’ Mike offered Alexander his hand. ‘One question though… Are you planning on using local suppliers, like myself, for your seafood? Assuming, of course, that the resort will have a restaurant.’

  So much for a quiet drink. This had the potential to turn into a mini town meeting. Alexander silently thanked his father for teaching him how to be ready to field questions at any time. How to keep calm, to appear in control.

  ‘To be honest, Mike, we do tend to use our trusted suppliers for our produce and meat. We prefer to use organic wherever possible and the quality has to be consistent, but in saying that, I think when it comes to seafood fresh is always best. Make sure you give me your number and I’ll make sure it’s passed on to the right person.’

  Mike clinked his pint against Alexander’s. ‘Cheers for that. Appreciate it. She’s been slow going the last few years. The boost will do us good.’

  Ginny elbowed Mike and gave him a ‘shut up’ glare.

  ‘What? I’m just saying what we’re all thinking.’

  ‘If we were all thinking it, there wouldn’t be a daft rope in the middle of this pub. The last thing I want is to have to rope off sections of our house. I love you too much.’ Ginny leaned over, cupped Mike’s cheek and kissed him, softly, lingering, and just long enough that Alexander began to feel uncomfortable and found himself focusing on the bubbles trailing up from the bottom of his beer.

  A gagging sound came from Sophie’s direction.

  ‘You two are incorrigible. Always with the public displays of affection. You’d think after all this time you’d be sick of each other. I’m just glad I haven’t had anything to eat recently otherwise I’d be saying hello to it.’ She picked up her beer and took a sip, a smile playing on her lips.

  Ginny grabbed a crisp from an opened bag on the table and waved it at Sophie. ‘I’d say you were jealous, my friend, but I know your feelings about relationships.’

  ‘Indeed you do.’ Sophie spun the bag of crisps round and took a handful. ‘No man is better than a bad one.’

  Alexander waited for Sophie to elaborate, but no explanation came. Unsurprising considering how locked down she kept her life, how private she was. Still, what had happened to give her that attitude? To see her shun relationships, when – considering how affectionate she was with her girlfriends – she seemed like the kind of person who had so much love to give.

  ‘What about you, Alex?’ Ginny turned her attention to him, her eyes gleaming. ‘Can I call you Alex?’

  No one called him Alex. Alexander had been his name for as long as he could remember. His nanny had once called him Alex in front of his parents and been admonished. His father believed Alexander was a strong name, a winner’s name, whereas ‘Alex’ sounded weak. The shortened name belonging to someone who’d give people a hand rather than rule with an iron fist.

  But his father wasn’t here to state his opinions, and Alexander quite liked the way Alex sounded. It sounded like a name that belonged to a guy who sat in a pub with friends, wearing shorts and a T-shirt, his hands raw after a solid day’s physical work.

  ‘Sure, you can call me Alex.’ The word rolled off his tongue. It felt like the name he deserved. That belonged to him.

  ‘Excellent. So, Alex…’ Ginny rubbed her hands together. ‘Tell me about you. What would you be doing if you were back home right now? Would you be at the gym? Working late? Out with a lady friend?’

  Sophie groaned and buried her face in her hands. ‘Really, Ginny?’ Her hands slipped down. ‘There’s not enough beer in the world for this. I’m so sorry, Alexander. The moment I saw this one sitting here we should have hustled our behinds out of here. She’s obsessed with love. Thinks because she’s so in it that the rest of the world must be, or if they’re not, then they should be.’

  Ginny flapped her hand dismissively at Sophie. ‘Oh shush. You love it, Sophie. Besides, I’m interested in what Alex has to say. It’s not often we have a good-looking, successful man in these parts.’

  ‘What am I? Road kill?’ Mike took a swig of beer and put his glass down to reveal a frothy moustache.

  ‘No.’ Ginny wiped the foam away with the pad of her thumb. ‘You’re my everything. Best-looking man in the universe. But there are single ladies in the village and I feel it’s my duty to play cupid since I was lucky enough to fall in love with you, my dear. Now, is our ego nice and solid?’ She stuck her tongue out at Mike who mirrored the gesture. ‘Good. So, Alex? Spill.’

  ‘You don’t have to say anything, Alexander.’ Sophie shook her head, emphasising her point. ‘It’s none of our business.’

  ‘No, it’s okay. There’s nothing much to tell. I live in London. Knightsbridge to be exact.’

  ‘Fancy.’ Natalie pulled her increasingly fractious daughter onto her knee and began to jiggle her up and down. ‘You must feel like you’re slumming it down here.’

  ‘No, not at all. I’m enjoying it.’ And, to his surprise, he wasn’t being polite. He meant it. The chance to meander up and down quiet lanes rather than stride shoulder-to-shoulder down heaving streets. To breathe in the fresh, tangy air of the sea rather than exhaust fumes. A scent that had never bothered him until now. A scent he’d have to embrace once more, sooner rather than later. ‘I’ve a mews house there. Nothing over the top, not compared to some of the other homes. Not that I’d be home at this time. I’d still be in the office.’

  ‘So, it’s a case of all work and no play? No girlfriend?’ Ginny egged him on with an encouraging nod.

  Alexander stifled a laugh as a groan of despair rose from Sophie. ‘No. No girlfriend. I’m too busy with work to do a relationship justice. Besides, it takes a certain kind of woman to handle being with a person who has the kind of demands on them that I do.’

  ‘Really?’ Ginny’s head tilted to the side. ‘Do tell…’

  Alexander’s stomach squirmed with discomfort. He’d had it drummed into him by his father that revealing a soft underbelly was like pouring fish chum into the ocean… the sharks would soon swarm, then attack.

  Had he revealed too much already? Was it right to reveal more? To trust a table of strangers in a pub where half the people hated what his family was planning on doing to their home?

  ‘Give the guy a break.’ Sophie’s tone caught his attention. It was the voice of a person who sensed his discomfort and was handing him a lifeline. ‘He’s worked all day. He’s come into a pub where if people knew who he was he’d spend the whole night being clapped on the back or having to explain himself. All he wants to do is relax, so we should let him.’

  ‘Well you can’t blame a girl for being curious.’ Ginny shrugged, unperturbed by her friend’s ruling. ‘I was just interested to see what kind of girls rich, successful men go out with. I imagine they’re beautiful, put together well with designer clothing, able to wear high heels for hours on end, and good at making small talk. Nothing too substantial though, because they wouldn’t want to make their man look or feel less than.’

  ‘Less than?’ Sophie nearly spat out her mouthful of beer. She hastily swallowed and wipe her mouth of her hand. ‘You make it sound like they’re mannequins. Or one of those dolls where you pull the s
tring at their back and they say something inane. I’d be bored stupid in seconds if I had to behave like that, let alone go out with someone like that.’

  ‘Well it’s not like you’ll ever find out, given your stance on dating.’ Ginny shot back with a laugh.

  ‘Yeah, well.’ Sophie shifted in her seat, her gaze dropping to her lap. She gnawed her lip, then released it and lifted her head. Her eyes were bright. Too bright. Her smile too wide. ‘Better no man than a good-for-nothing one.’ She followed the statement with a brittle laugh that cut out as quickly as it started.

  Alexander sensed an unspoken conversation going on between Ginny and Sophie. Whatever Ginny had blurted appeared to be a sore point for Sophie and a point not to be made in front of an outsider, or even in public.

  ‘Another round?’ Mike scraped his chair back, ignoring the half-filled glasses on the table. ‘Alex?’

  Alexander nodded his head. He was in no hurry to leave. He wanted to hang around, find out more about the woman opposite him.

  There was more to her than met the eye. She was astute in a way that was unexpected, not afraid of putting her foot down, or for sticking up for others even when the person she was sticking up for was in no way a friend.

  For the first time in – well, ever – he wanted to dig deeper. To know more.

  And not just about Sophie, either. He wanted to investigate this new side to himself. To find out who ‘Alex’ was. What he was capable of.

  His phone vibrated in his pocket. Alexander fished it out, his spine stiffened when he saw who it was. His father. Ringing for an update. Expecting him to be heading back to the office.

  He shoved the mobile back in his pocket, thankful that Mike was bringing back another beer, because the one in front of him was about to do a disappearing act.

  How had a simple business trip become an existential crisis?

  And would solving it mean disappointing his mother and father, the family name, or giving up who he believed he was, once and for all?

  CHAPTER EIGHT