Page 25 of Always Be My Pumpkin

‘Sounds serious. Is everything okay?’

‘Yeah, it’s all good. Well, with Pat anyway.’ His jaw tightens. ‘I’m not so sure about my parents.’

‘But you don’t want to talk about it?’ An old familiar ache tugs at my chest. Maybe Flynn doesn’t need me after all.

‘Oh, Gracie, I do.’ He crouches in front of me and takes hold of my hands. ‘But nothing is decided. And I don’t want to get your hopes up and then let you down.’

‘You mean when you have to leave again,’ I say quietly.

His eyes linger on mine as he squeezes my hands. ‘No, it’s not that. I promise as soon as I’m sure about everything, you’ll be the first one I’ll tell.’ He tilts his head. ‘Okay?’

‘Okay.’ I take a quick glance over to the desk, where Conal, our temporary library assistant, is working his way through the queue of customers. He spots me checking and gives me an I’ve got this wave.

I turn back to Flynn. ‘I’d better go and change before we lock up.’

‘Sure.’ He lets go of my hands and stands up. ‘I’ll check out the gardening section while I wait. And I thought we could go for a walk down by the lake after lunch, if you’re up to it.’

‘’Course I’m up to it,’ I scoff as I rise from my pouffe. ‘I might not do push-ups every morning but I can manage a lakeside walk.’

‘Well, that was a pretty energetic workout you just did.’ He grins, then his eyes narrow and I see the question forming in his mind before he speaks. ‘How do you know I do push-ups?’

My face warms. ‘I heard you talking to Conal earlier about football, about keeping up your training. And there’s no gym in Oakwood, so I presume you work out at home, when I’m not there . . .’ I’m getting hotter by the minute, as I try to cover up my blunder, and picturing Flynn pumping up and down, wearing nothing but those teeny white football shorts, is definitely not helping me cool down.

‘Anyway, I have to run.’ I puff out a breath. ‘I’ll pass out if I don’t take this costume off.’ I jog across the library, and upstairs to the staffroom, and pray Flynn believes it’s only too much woolly padding causing me to overheat.

We have lunch in the Corner Bar, at our favourite table by the stove, and Flynn spends the hour cartoon drawing locals in Halloween costumes, with speech bubbles that capture everybody just right. He draws Jamie as a sequence of puffed-up pumpkins with a middle that gets larger every time he speaks, until he eventually explodes, and there are speech bubbles flying everywhere.

He’s flicking the pages to animate the sketches, setting us off with the giggles, when Jamie blasts through the door. He veers for the bar and I don’t think he’s seen us. But as he reaches the counter, the door swings open and Olivia bursts in, her face pale and streaked with mascara. She makes straight for Jamie and grabs hold of his arm, and he turns around to face her, looking so distressed that I almost feel sorry for him.

‘Olivia, please, I’ve told you we can’t keep doing this,’ he says, loud and exasperated and seemingly oblivious to multiple cocked ears. The Corner Bar regulars love a good gossip.

‘Because of her,’ she howls, and I feel guilty listening. She sounds stricken and desperate and nothing like the over-confident ice queen I’ve always taken her to be.

‘When you’re not even sure she’ll take you back.’ She lets go of Jamie’s arm and her mouth twists as she calls out, to him and the entire lunchtime crowd, now hanging on every word, ‘He’s back too, you know. My cousin told me all about him, how she never went anywhere without him, before he ran off to the States. And how she’s hanging out with him again. All the time. So don’t come crying to me when you find out she’s been using you the same way you’ve been using me.’

Shit, I forgot Olivia has relatives in Oakwood.

Every head in the room jerks towards our table, and Jamie and Olivia follow the trail, until they’re both open-mouthed, gaping at Flynn and me. Olivia, fair play to her, gathers herself first.

‘See, what did I tell you.’ She shoots out an accusing arm. Then she turns on her high heels and storms straight back out.

Jamie moves to go after her, but he pulls himself back. He tilts his head from side to side as though he can’t make up his mind which way to turn. He looks unsure, which isn’t like him, and I wonder if Olivia has hit a raw nerve. But then he pushes back his shoulders and scowls straight at Flynn.

Jamie never liked Flynn. Because Flynn got at least as many admiring glances from girls, and he took absolutely no notice of Jamie, until he asked me to the ball. And if there’s one thing Jamie hates, it’s to be sidelined or ignored, especially by someone like Flynn who didn’t even want the attention Jamie craved. Sarah always said that what pissed him off most was when their football coach made Flynn captain of the under sixteens. Jamie had always been team captain. His father made sure of it. But they got a new coach, one who didn’t give a damn about local politics, and Jamie sulked so bad he quit the team for a year.

I think he might still be sulking, but I’ve more important things to worry about, like the way he’s furiously scowling at Flynn. Does he really believe I’ve been pining for Flynn all this time? And can I honestly tell him, and myself, and the entire gawking crowd, that Olivia’s got this all wrong? That I’ve only ever seen him as my friend.

Jamie starts walking towards us, and it’s like everything’s happening in slow motion, except my heartbeat which feels like it’s galloping towards a solid brick wall. Flynn reaches a hand down to give mine a squeeze under the table and whispers, ‘It’s okay, I’ve got you.’ And I let myself breathe.

Jamie towers over us, glaring at Flynn. Then he turns to me and his face softens a smidge. ‘Gracie, please.’

Am I forgiven already for cutting off his performance at the meeting last night? I never know with Jamie. His moods can change with the breeze.

Flynn keeps one hand on mine beneath the table and uses the other to close his notebook before Jamie has a chance to spot himself exploding across the page.

‘Gracie and I are friends. That’s all we’ve ever been.’ He looks straight at Jamie, and it sounds like he believes every word. ‘She’s not interested in me that way, so whatever it is you’ve done, whatever mess you’ve made, it’s all on you. Not Gracie.’

Jamie clenches his fists and glowers down at Flynn, then his eyes flick to mine again and I blink and shake my head. And Jamie sighs with what sounds like relief.