‘I reckon Anjali the young vet will do for him, and how about Kit at the pub for Annie?’ Mrs Crocombe was saying to Izaak, Leonid, Minty and Jowan.
‘We must let it happen naturally,’ Minty hissed loudly. ‘No point forcing things.’
Harri noticed Jowan reaching for Minty’s be-ringed hand. He was making devoted eyes at her. Another recent Clove Lore love match, no doubt.
After having parted with twenty quid, he pocketed the movie tickets and scanned the room looking for Annie once more. They had to get out of here quick before they were married off against their will.
‘And you and Harri aren’t…?’ Jude was asking.
‘What, us? God no!’ Annie said with a barking laugh. Harri knew she was overcompensating, trying to throw the community off their tails but still, she didn’t have to be quite so emphatic about it. And then she said something that made his nerves jolt.
‘There was a while, back in uni, where I had a crush on him, but…’ Harri watched Annie swipe the idea away with a dismissive hand. ‘We’re just really good friends.’
Harri found he couldn’t move. In fact, he felt like he was suddenly lit by a spotlight’s beam, blindingly bright. Was everyone looking at him?
A crush? In uni? There was no way that could be true. He’d have known. If that was really the case they’d have…
‘Ready to go?’ Annie called to him.
The spotlight went out. Harri blinked.
Annie was smiling, forcedly now, and with a touch of tiredness around her eyes. She looked chilly. The thin silver and gold chains at her throat sparkled in the lights from the sconces. She’d worn his jumper the whole afternoon. It looked spectacular on her.
Now she was by his side and telling him in a low voice that all she wanted was to get out of here and have a hot bath and a long sleep.
‘Right,’ Harri faltered. ‘Let’s go.’
They picked their way gingerly back down the slippery cobbled slope towards the bookshop in the muted light of the village’s Victorian streetlamps. It was sleeting sharply, right in their faces, preventing them from talking.
Harri collected his thoughts.Hada crush. Past tense.We’re just really good friends. If she’d let on she liked him back then, they could have been together all this time, or it might have been the thing that destroyed them. It could have been just a fling or a short-term thing, and living so far apart she could well have become nothing but his ex. They might not even be in contact now. He shuddered at the idea.
They passed down the sheltered turning off the slope and made it to the shop door. As Annie punched in the keycode, he asked, ‘We’re doing all right, aren’t we?’
‘Hmm?’ Annie swung the door open and practically dived into the warmth of the dark building. The heat from the radiators had at last built up to a decent temperature. ‘How d’you meanall right?’
Harri shrugged. ‘As pals? Here, on holiday? We’re good, aren’t we?’
Distractedly, Annie threw off her coat, and kissed him exuberantly on the cheek. ‘We’re the best.’ She made for the staircase. ‘We’re the GOAT! Greatest of all time.’
Quietly astonished by the heat on his cheek where her lips had pressed, Harri locked the door.
Annie effervesced her way up the stairs, calling behind her. ‘It says in the information binder there’s only enough water for one bath per evening. Since you jumped in the shower this morning…’
‘Go ahead. I’ll hit the hay.’ He pointed stupidly to his bedroom door.Hit the hay?When did he ever sayhit the hay? He was being weird again and he hated it.
By the time Annie Luna emerged from the tub, the scent of her almond milk bath oil had spread throughout the whole place, Harri was under his covers with his pillow pulled firmly over his head, and on Annie’s nightstand he’d left a bedtime snack of hot buttered toast and milky tea, made just the way she liked it. Beside it were the two tickets forWhen Harry Met Sallyat the Big House outdoor cinema on Valentine’s Day.
She stopped at the side of her big white bed, rubbing the towel over her damp hair, and thought herself very lucky indeed. Harri Griffiths really was the very best friend a woman could wish for.
The sleet had stopped around about the time Annie was drifting off to sleep, having made sure to check her phone for a reply from Cassidy. There had, of course, been none.
Chapter Six
A Visitor
The rain stayed away all that Monday morning, making for a decent day’s book and bun selling. Harri had baked a fresh batch, adding a sugary lemon drizzle which he’d made with supplies from his dash to the convenience store up at the visitor centre first thing.
Annie could hear him in the cafe taking orders, clattering cups and banging out spent coffee grounds into the waste food bin. Now and again his soft Welsh accent broke through the chatter of the bookshop browsers and Annie’s ‘ironic Nineties college music playlist’ over the speakers. Harri had popped his head round the cafe door to let her know he was, ‘enjoying them unironically, by the way’, at about half eleven when there’d been a momentary lull in visitors.
