‘What do you mean, too?’ Claire asked.
Quinn took out his phone, showing his mum the video. She clicked into the comments, her mouth dropping open as the strand of ginger hair fell down again.
‘Oh, no, this isn’t good.’ Claire shook her head. ‘You can’t speak to journalists about this.’
‘Why can’t I?’
‘Do you know how hard Harold has worked?’ Claire handed Quinn the phone back. ‘He brought us from the brink of bankruptcy with this contract. This makes him look terrible. Your dad left us with a lot of debt, Quinn, and Harold brought us back from that.’
Quinn couldn’t believe what he was hearing. ‘You don’t think what he’s doing is bad?’
Claire crossed her arms again, seeming to withdraw into herself. ‘Look at this place. It’s gorgeous. You’ve had a good run. Harold’s been kind to you by letting you pay not nearly as much as what it’s worth. But this building is part of Hay. This building is part of the castle. It’s part of its history.’
Quinn remained silent.
Claire let the silence stretch out. ‘Sometimes we have to let go,’ she whispered. ‘This shop has served you well, but it can’t be forever.’
‘This is my job. My career. Of course it can last forever.’
Claire sighed. ‘You’re so much better than…’ She stopped.
Quinn crossed his arms. ‘Than what?’
‘Than this,’ Claire said. ‘Listen, I came here because I saw this article, and there was a quote from you in it. I thought you’d been contacting the press, but I see it comes from this video you posted. Please tell me you didn’t do it to spite Harold.’
Quinn shook his head. ‘I didn’t think it would go viral. I didn’t even know I was being filmed. My friend is helping me get this out there. We’re going to fight before we let this get taken away from me.’
‘Fight?’
‘Fight. We have a megaphone and everything.’
Claire placed a hand on her forehead, heaving a vast sigh. ‘You don’t fight, Quinn. I didn’t raise you like that.’
‘No,’ Quinn thought of his conversation with Dougie. ‘No, and it’s got me in a couple of not so ideal situations. I’ve been silent all my life. I’m not being walked on any longer.’
Claire looked as though she might cry, like she was seeing her son for the first time. Despite everything inside him screaming for him to turn back, to say what his mum probably wanted to hear, to overthink and worry about others rather than himself, he stood firm. So firm he crossed his arms, because that proved how firm he was.
‘This could get nasty. Your shop isn’t worth losing family over.’
Quinn hated to see his mum so torn. But if Quinn lost this shop now, he would be the one struggling. He would be the one close to bankruptcy. He would be a Cratchit.
He had to risk everything to get what he wanted.
Quinn took his mother’s hands and looked her in the eye.
‘In the words of Harold, it’s just business.’
ChapterTen
The phone rang. Quinn answered. ‘Hello, Kings & Queens. Quinn speaking. How can I help?’
‘Hello. Emma here from Hay Herald. I’m getting in touch about a viral video of you regarding your bookshop.’
It was the only call that came to the shop. After all the comments from the press, not one of them contacted him, despite Ivy helping him set up his email and replying to every one of them. It seemed his video was yesterday’s hit, and today it had dropped off the algorithms and faded into the ether.
‘Hi, Emma, thanks for calling.’
‘It touched us when we heard the story, and we could see the emotion in the video from you. Would you be willing to talk to us about it?’
