The Bookshop on the Corner (32 page)

N
ina found herself up on her tiptoes late at night, peeking through the kitchen window to see—just to see—if his light was on. They'd barely crossed paths. It seemed crazy that they could have spent the last three weeks utterly naked with each other, completely open, vulnerable and as close to each other as two people could possibly be, and now they were supposed to pass each other on the street and not mention a thing about it. It was completely nuts. Now that Nina had the chance to think about it, she could have beaten herself up for pushing so hard, so soon.

And she wanted him so badly. She missed him desperately. Not just, she realized, the sex, although she missed that like crazy—it was as if she'd never eaten chocolate in her life, then she'd gotten a taste and now wanted to eat it all the time.

Everything before this, she realized, had been mere fumbles, nice, nervous, gentle, pleasant. They had been black and white, and this had been color; sex so intense she'd had headaches, or on one occasion burst out crying, and Lennox, not saying anything, had simply held her tight against his chest and wiped away
her tears as they fell, had comforted her more than anything ever could, even if she hadn't quite known why she was crying in the first place. Oh Lord, she missed him.

She missed the half dozen eggs placed on her doorstep from time to time; the home-brewed cider they had drunk in the kitchen. She missed Parsley sniffing around to welcome her home; more often than not now he was out in the high fields with his master, and on the rare occasions he was at the farmhouse, he was so tuckered out he couldn't do much more than cock an eye at the van when she came home. She missed that odd feeling she got with Lennox that whatever happened, whether it was to a lamb, a dog, or herself, he would make it all right; he would figure it out. He made her feel more secure than she could ever have imagined.

She had one more look out of the little window, and was just about to draw the curtain and turn away when she caught, for a tiny instant, a reflection on the window across the way and realized that he was looking at her, too.

The breath caught in her throat and she stared at him, frozen on her tiptoes, just gazing, feeling a longing, a desperate wanting that threatened to overwhelm all thoughts of sense or reasonableness, that made her want to run across the courtyard . . .

Something clattered suddenly, and glancing down, she realized that she had knocked a plate into the sink, startling herself. When she looked back, he had gone. And she still did not know how long she had left.

It was hard, she thought, this self-realization business. She could barely read a word, and that was the final straw. He could take
away her sex life, he could take away her peace of mind, her hopes for happiness, her home, her livelihood. But NOBODY was taking away her reading.

She should leave, she thought boldly. She should go to Orkney. Start over. She'd done it once, she could do it again. Start from the beginning, away from this whole town, away from the gossip and the prying eyes and the sheer hardship of being in such proximity to someone who had made her feel so much.

She told herself she absolutely was going to go. That it wasn't a case of throwing down her last card—leaving forever—in the hope that it would force him to see sense, beg her not to go, make everything all right. She was going to stand up for herself. Again.

She threw on a dress it wasn't quite warm enough to wear, applied some lipstick with a trembling hand, and, trying to fake a confidence she didn't feel, flung open her front door.

He was standing there, his huge hands on the door frame. She jumped.

“Oh!”

“Nina,” he said, and his face was drawn. “I can't. I can't do without you. I can't . . . I'm sorry. Please. I know I'm . . . difficult. I know I am. Give me another chance. I just want another chance. Please . . .”

He didn't need to say another word. Nina grabbed him tightly and went to pull him to her, knowing that whatever was happening, she couldn't let him go, couldn't get him out of her system; he was in there, whether she wanted him to be or not, and she no longer had the slightest choice.

She crushed her body to his, and he held her so tightly it nearly knocked the breath out of her. Her heart was pounding, and suddenly something in her crashed down, something she
hadn't seen coming, something for once that wasn't comparable to anything she'd read in a book or dreamed or fantasized about.

He moved toward her achingly slowly, and she stretched up to him with longing, prolonging the delicious second before she could feel him, taste him once more, and he smiled at her, knowing exactly what she was feeling and exactly what it meant.

Then all of a sudden he jerked back, and she heard it, too: tire tracks on the farm road. She smiled ruefully, assuming it was a feed supplier or the vet, but he shook his head; he obviously recognized the sound of the car. He stepped back, his face distraught.

“Oh, Nina, I'm sorry,” he said, although she didn't realize what he meant right away. “I'm so sorry.”

And into the courtyard, scattering chickens as it went, came a white Range Rover Evoque, skidding to an ungainly stop.

N
ina watched from the shadows of the barn as the woman emerged.

She was, amazingly, pretty much exactly how Nina had thought she would be: blond, with curly hair, slightly boho in style. Gorgeous, in fact. She didn't look like she fit with Lennox at all, although when they were standing together, Nina could suddenly see it, his height and his lean, broad-shouldered physique showing off Kate's sleek curves very well. They made an attractive contrast.

Nina stiffened as Kate kissed him on both cheeks. She didn't know what to do. Hiding seemed ridiculous. Should she march out and demand to be introduced as Lennox's girlfriend? That was even worse; it wasn't at all what she was, and it felt like the most ridiculous word to describe what they were going through, a silly, childish term that came nowhere near describing what she felt when he was near her: like sunshine and a storm all at once, tearing through her. She swallowed, feeling her heart race.

Then Kate was marching toward her, smiling, showing very
nice teeth. Nina felt incredibly awkward. In another life, in another world, she liked this woman, although she was nothing like her. Now all she could see was what she lacked next to her; not just the carefully mismatched style, or the barely there makeup, which even Nina knew took every bit as much effort as the more obvious look. No, it was the sense of shared history: Kate and Lennox striding the streets of Edinburgh together, arm in arm, building a world together, loving each other enough to get married. The idea of Lennox standing up in front of a crowd of people and saying “I do” made her feel very strange, and deeply jealous and wrong-footed.

“Hi,” said Kate, disarmingly warm, but with calculation behind the greeting. Nina felt sized up, from the provenance of her shoes to her slightly bitten nails, a habit honed over hours of holding a book in one hand. “Can I come in?”

She tried to remember that this woman was coming to take away what she had undeniably come to think of as her home, the only place she wanted to be, the only job she wanted to do, the only man she had ever wanted right down to the very bones of her soul.

Kate looked around dismissively at the piles of books Nina had managed to accumulate in the immaculate bookshelves; at the scatter cushions she'd bought for the minimalist sofa.

“Like what you've done with it,” she said, in a tone that seemed to indicate a joke but obviously meant anything but.

“Um . . . I know . . . I mean, I know I'm not on a long lease or anything,” said Nina, wondering why she was kowtowing to this person even as she had the power to ruin her.

Kate waved her hand. “Oh yes. He never could drive a hard bargain, my husband. Amazed the bloody farm's still standing.”

She looked Nina up and down, and Nina flushed, wondering if she knew. And why did she still call him “my husband”?

“How are you finding Kirrinfief?”

“Um . . . it's been interesting,” said Nina, not quite able to find the words to talk about how much everything had changed for her in the short time she'd been there.

“It's a hole, isn't it?” said Kate. “I couldn't believe it. I've never been happier than when I got out. I hear you're off, too?”

“Um, did you?”

Kate frowned. “Lesley in the village mentioned you were thinking about the Orkneys. Christ, it sounds even worse than here.”

“Where do you live?” said Nina.

“Oh, I'm . . .” She didn't finish. “Let's just say I have plans,” she said finally. “Now let me see what that bloody Lennox is up to.”

She turned back to the door of the barn, pausing only to give a critical look at a tatty but adorable rug that Nina had picked up at one of the trunk sales she'd worked at.

“Lennox! When the hell are you going to call off your attack dog?”

Lennox was still standing in the farmyard, looking awkward.

“Parsley?”

Kate snorted. “Not fucking Parsley. That dog would gum a burglar to death. I mean Ranald.”

“He's just doing his job,” said Lennox.

“By starving me to death,” said Kate.

Lennox closed his eyes briefly. “Can we discuss this inside?”

Nina took the van down to Pattersmith and gloomily sold not many books. Her mood was obviously showing on her face, and she couldn't concentrate on anything; could barely raise a smile for the children. She wished she'd kidnapped Parsley; at least she'd have someone around her in a good mood.

Her imagination ran riot. What were they hammering out? Was Lennox going to give everything up? Maybe he would; maybe he thought that might be easier. Or right. She couldn't see Kate running a farm somehow. Or maybe . . . A darker thought intruded into Nina's mind. After all, Kate was so gorgeous. And Lennox, too. And maybe . . . There must have been an attraction there once.

She sighed, and absentmindedly let a brand-new best-selling hardback go for the price of a paperback. Innes the fish man tried to hide his beam of joy and scurried off at full speed.

She had an early supper at the pub with Edwin and Hugh, who were always pleased to see her, but who happened to mention that they'd seen Mrs. Lennox, and had she been up to the farm? Such a lovely lady, so pretty, and Nina couldn't really bear that for much longer, so with a heavy heart, she headed home, bumping the van up the lane.

The two of them were out in the farmyard again. Obviously there had been shouting. Parsley was nowhere to be seen. Lennox was standing with his hands outstretched in a gesture of supplication. Kate was red in the face, her beautiful blond curls bouncing everywhere. Nina didn't feel she could drive through them, so she halted the van and got out.

“What's this?” Kate was screaming, gesticulating toward the
van. “Did you buy it for your mistress? Who you've installed in MY FUCKING BARN.”

Ah, thought Nina. What was meant to be the calm and organized settling of things had obviously escalated unexpectedly.

“What the hell?” screamed Kate as Nina approached. “Who the hell are you? I thought you were a mouse. A quiet little mouse who doesn't cause any trouble, not someone who moves in on other people's husbands!”

Nina stood her ground. “I thought you were getting a divorce.”

Kate sniffed. “Well, he's impossible. You must have seen it. He has absolutely no soul. No poetry. How could you bear it?”

She walked slowly around to the back of the van, snorting as she saw what was written on the side.

“Little Shop of Happy-Ever-After! Ha ha ha. Very fricking funny. There aren't very bloody many of those.”

Nina bit her lip. She didn't want to admit that she thought Kate might well be right.

Kate moved on, walking through the farmyard as if she owned it. Nina didn't want to ask her whether she actually did. Lennox was standing stock-still, watching fearfully.

“So what do you do, just drive around looking for vulnerable marriages?”

“Stop it, Kate.” Lennox's voice was curt.

“Why? I'm entitled to ask a few questions, aren't I? Though I know you'd much rather I vanished forever and lived in a hole in the ground and never bothered you again.”

“Kate, we've been through this.” His voice was weary. “This is my family farm. It's my birthright.”

“It's all you've ever done, blah blah blah. Yes. Which is why you're such a boring miserable old bastard who can't take a va
cation or sit through a play or enjoy a night in a restaurant or do anything even remotely fun, ever.”

“I'm just not that kind of person.”

“How would you even know, stuck here all the time? Oh, obviously with company. Seriously, Lennox, you couldn't even be bothered to go half a mile from your own front door? I never had you down as lazy.”

“Don't talk about her like that.”

Kate rolled her eyes. “I think that calculating madam can look after herself.”

“ENOUGH.”

Lennox strode forward, furious. Kate smiled back. She obviously knew exactly how to push his buttons, Nina thought. She was so beautiful and lovely and talented, so confident—all the attributes Nina longed for, everything she had always envied in others—and yet here she was, screaming and yelling in pained fury. It was truly strange.

Kate stepped right up to Nina.

“Let's have a look at your little hobby, shall we? It's all right for
her
to have a little hobby, I see, Lennox. It was just my daubings you didn't like.”

“No,” said Lennox. “It's that you wouldn't stick with anything. One day it was ceramics, then it was painting, then it was pottery, then it was interior design. You never followed anything through.”

“That's because I didn't have any support at home. You were out all bloody hours, leaving me stranded here.”

Lennox looked sad. “You used to dream of living here,” he said quietly.

“Yes, shows what an idiot I was.”

Kate opened the door of the van. Nina stood by and let her. She didn't want to get in front of anyone in a mood like this.

Kate stepped in and saw the soft gray walls, the lovely displays, the chandelier. She paused suddenly and turned back, looking inquiringly at Nina.

“Oh,” she said. “Oh. This is . . .” She ran her hands along the shelves. “This is lovely.”

The way she touched the books, Nina could tell she was a reader. She could always spot them, even the furious ones.

“Oh,” she said again. “You run all this yourself?”

“I have some help,” shrugged Nina quietly. But Kate had stopped just next to the little cash box. Her mouth had fallen open.

Nina peered into the van to see what she was looking at.

“I haven't . . . ,” Kate started, and then stopped again. “I haven't seen that for years.”

It was the last, very sticky copy of
Up on the Rooftops
. Kate's face softened, and suddenly Nina could see the child she must have been: pretty, petted, spoiled. She reached out a hand.

“May I?” she said, and Nina nodded.

“This is exactly the edition I had,” Kate breathed, carefully turning the pages.

“Yes, I was lucky to find them,” said Nina. “It's beautiful, isn't it?”

“Oh! Here's where the pigeon loses his leg and they make him a new one out of a lollipop stick.”

Nina smiled.

“Here's the whispering gallery.”

“That always terrified me, that bit.”

Kate nodded. “God, yes. And Galleon's Reach . . .”

“Every time I read it, I didn't think they'd make it.”

Kate held the book. “Can . . . can I . . .”

“That's my last one,” said Nina. “I can't part with it, I'm sorry.”

“Oh,” said Kate. “Oh.”

“I kind of share it with . . . I share it with one of my other customers.”

“But I want it,” said Kate, pouting prettily.

Nina looked at her. She was obviously used to getting what she wanted. Always.

“You can't have it,” she said gently. “It belongs to somebody else.”

They looked at each other for a long time.

“Oh God,” said Kate, sinking into one of the bean bags. “I am SO SICK of all this. So sick of it.”

Nina nodded. “I understand. I really do. What's the sticking point?”

Kate sighed. “My lawyer said to push for the whole farm. Then we'd come to a settlement in the middle.”

“Do you really want a farm?”

“Fuck no, what would I do with it? But he just keeps saying no, you can't have the farm. No discussion. So fricking stubborn.”

Nina half-smiled. “Oh, I can see that happening. Doesn't he make you a counteroffer?”

“He says he's waiting for one from us. But my lawyer is adamant. And meanwhile, everything will just get swallowed up in costs.”

“Oh for goodness' sake,” said Nina. “Just ask him— ”

She suddenly realized what she was about to say. But they had to end this, didn't they?