‘Woah, guys.’ Quinn held up his hands, trying to calm the crowd. ‘It’s not even eight in the morning. I’m tired. What’s going on?’
A woman at the front of the crowd unfolded the red top newspaper she was holding. A tabloid paper. He’d gone national. On the front cover was that same photo of him from Hay’s paper: mid-laugh, Noah standing next to him, his eyes bright and his laugh as big as Quinn’s. The headline readqueer today. gone tomorrow.
Quinn took the paper and looked at the photo, pretending as though he were seeing it for the first time. He looked happy. In that moment, when the camera snapped, Quinn had forgotten all his worries. It was almost like looking at someone he remembered from childhood, but their name and face evaded him. Only it was himself, of course, and he didn’t recognise him.
This article used quotes from the BBC interview, and a few quotes from his interview in Hay’s paper. The article even mentioned his dad, and for one moment Quinn thought he was going to have frozen tears on his face as the story recounted his father’s own bookshop, and the way the community had loved him. But despite everything, the newspaper had captured the heart of Kings & Queens.
If his first published piece had been a whirlwind, this was even more so. With the BBC and now national newspapers publishing the story, and even ignoring Harold, he almost thought there was a chance to keep his shop alive.
‘What can we do to stop this from happening?’
‘They want you out by Christmas?’
‘Well, that’s next week!’
‘Excuse me, excuse me!’ Ivy’s voice was like Gabriel floating down to greet the shepherds. The sea of people parted, like that dude in the Bible did once, only it was the actual sea and not a small crowd of middle-aged locals in Hay-on-Wye. ‘Now, what can I do for you all?’
Some people smiled; others looked annoyed at Ivy’s arrival. Her eyes darted to the newspaper, but judging by the copy she held in her hand, she already knew the story.
‘Ah, yes.’ Ivy nodded with vigour. ‘Look. Kings & Queens is falling victim to capitalism. By his own stepfather, can you believe? Anyway, we love that the castle has been restored. We do not love that the castle wants to close the bookshop and instead open something for the castle here behind these gay rainbow doors. We will not be silent. There will be a group meeting tomorrow at Hay’s community hall. Be there so we can plan our protest.’
People nodded, muttering that they would spread the word, and dispersed. Only two women remained: Deb and June.
‘What was he like?’
‘Did you smell him?’
‘I bet he smells wonderful.’
‘I hear he likes bourbon biscuits.’
‘Did you eat bourbons?’
‘Anyway, we just want to say that if Noah is behind this, then we are too.’
‘Not that we wouldn’t be anyway, Deb.’
‘No, that’s right, June.’
June rolled her eyes.
‘But we will not let this shop close. You can count on us to be there.’
‘Great,’ Quinn said, already exhausted.
‘Tomorrow at 7pm, ladies,’ Ivy said. ‘Spread the word.’
‘And yes, he smelt wonderful,’ Quinn said, and they erupted in excited squeals.
They headed into the bookshop, leaving Deb and June peering over their shoulders in case they saw Noah. Because of course Quinn must be keeping him tucked away to roll out for publicity.
The excitement that his story hadn’t faded into obscurity almost made Quinn forget about his experience with Noah last night.
Almost.
But he needed to focus. The newspaper lying on his desk, his radiant smile looking back at him.
‘What the actual hell has happened?’
