And Quinn made a noise that sounded like a whimper and a mouse’s dying squeak.
Noah’s hand was on the small of Quinn’s back now, rubbing him, and a tender jolt rushed through Quinn.
‘He’d be proud of you.’
Quinn choked, Noah’s resting hand feeling like a paperweight. ‘Thank you.’
‘And so, this is why you wanted the shop?’
Quinn nodded. ‘I guess in some ways, yeah, I wanted to follow in his footsteps. Wanted to be like him. Because I learned so much from him. I thought maybe it would be like the two of us owning bookshops in Hay – it would add to Hay’s character and its history. And then he went and left us and here I am with a shop that is going to close.’
‘It won’t close down. I promise.’
‘Nothing’s promised,’ Quinn said. ‘We think we’re in charge of our fates, but we’re not. Something higher pulls us where we’re needed, and we just … go with it.’
Noah headed back to the plastic chair and sat down. It crunched under him and he froze. Quinn couldn’t help but smile, feeling the weight of his father’s absence leave his chest and the cold where Noah’s warm hand had been.
‘I don’t know if I agree with that,’ Noah said as he steadied himself.
Outside, two huddled figures trudged past the shop, their faces shielded by the snow. Quinn watched them go, wondering why people were out in the cold so late. It reminded him that there were more people around, that it wasn’t just him and Noah left alone on Earth – this wasn’t their world and their world only.
‘You don’t agree?’
‘I made a choice to be a writer. Nothing else would cut it until I could be. I was prepared to starve until then because I was not getting myself stuck in just anything for the sake of it.’
‘Well, it paid off for you.’
‘And it paid off for you. You made a choice that was similar to mine. You pursued your dream and made it happen. Many people don’t, and won’t, do that. So give yourself credit. It’s the fight that makes us. When we want something, why let others stop us? Why let people get in our way and dictate what our lives should be like? We’re dreamers, Quinn.’
Dreamers? That felt nice.
The pair finished their champagne, and poured another, and then another, until all that came out was a single drop into Quinn’s parched glass. Time went fast, and the two of them were heavy-headed and giggling.
‘I can’t believe you’re still here.’
Noah stared out at the dark street. ‘I don’t want to be here.’ He paused, catching Quinn’s eye. ‘No offense.’
‘Um … none taken.’Loads taken.
‘I mean, I don’t want to be in Hay.’
Noah’s words in the interview came back to him. By the end of the week, they could be in print.
‘Why not?’
Noah rolled his shoulders, as if they might be tight. Quinn thought about offering him a massage, but he wasn’t drunk enough for that.
‘Too many bad memories.’ Noah cleared his throat. ‘I never felt like this was home.’
‘But it was home?’
‘No,’ Noah said with some force. ‘It’s too… I feel claustrophobic. Like I need to escape. Almost as if I needed to shed my skin again and run far, far away.’
‘Is that why you’re a vampire?’
Noah blinked. ‘Sorry?’
Okay, so maybe Quinnwasdrunker than he thought. A vampire? Really?
