Hi. Sammy from The Guardian…
We’re from The Mirror and would love to interview you.
Sorry to hear about this. ITV News here…
‘Oh my god.’ Quinn gasped.
‘Right?’ Ivy said. ‘Now get up. I’ve been replying to comments on your behalf.’
Quinn went to his window, almost expecting to see the press gathered outside. There was nothing but snow, undisturbed because of a fresh falling over night. Hay was still and calm.
The stillness didn’t reflect his thoughts, though. His mind whirled in different directions. How could one video, capturing his off-the-cuff remarks, be reaching people all over the world? Why would someone care about him and his shop, when they had never even heard of Hay? It made no sense to him.
‘So, I’m acting as your press officer. I’ve told them to email an address I set up, or they can call your shop. I’m assuming you’ve diverted the calls to your mobile?’
‘What? No, of course not.’
‘Then you’ve missed everyone’s calls! We need to get them right now. Let me get interviews set up with you.’
‘Interviews? Ivy, I don’t know if I can do it.’
Speaking in front of people? Speaking about what mattered to him when he was certain people wouldn’t care? He hated attention. Hated people looking at him. There was no way he could do this.
Unless…
His father always told him to do what’s right. To fight for what he believed in.
He believed in his shop. Believed that if he couldn’t do it for himself, he’d do it for the people who loved his shop. He couldn’t let them and the memory of his father down. All he needed was a firm belief in keeping it alive.
‘You can! And you will. I will be by your side through it all.’
‘I don’t even know how to get them to listen to me.’
‘They’ll listen. They want to know what’s going on.’
‘Should I reply?’
‘Leave it all to me. I’ll keep you posted. Ciao for now.’
She cut the call, leaving Quinn in his apartment feeling at odds. The world might know, but did Hay?
His phone rang again. This time, Dougie.
He knew he shouldn’t, but he answered.
‘Quinn, hi.’ Dougie’s voice sounded brisk. ‘I saw your Instagram post. You’re being evicted?’
‘I … thought you knew.’ Quinn gripped the phone. ‘When that first letter arrived…’
Quinn hadn’t told a soul about his eviction notice, but Dougie was with him when the first letter came through. He would have shared it, only he left soon after, meaning Quinn had no one to fall back on.
‘Yes, yes,’ Dougie said, though he apparently didn’t care to remember. ‘Shame that you’re losing it. Maybe now you can join me in Cardiff. You wouldloveit here, Quinn.’
‘I’ve been to Cardiff before, you know.’
‘Living here is very different,’ Dougie said.
‘It’s just Cardiff.’ Quinn was sure Cardiff was a lovely place to live, but it wasn’t like it was an undiscovered metropolis.
