Page 22 of The Bookshop By the Loch

I was at risk of giving myself a thumping migraine, turning this over and over in my head.

Could he be a conman? Maybe he was a crook who preyed on businesspeople? Was he trying to deceive Trevor and swindle him out of his business? Yes, that must be it. There was no other explanation. Ha! He could try! Trevor had been very good to me and I wasn’t about to let him be swindled by anyone.

But then again, this man seemed very sure of himself.

I straightened my shoulders, as shoppers and visitors darted around us in the street, clutching their purchases and huddled against the weather. “Sorry. I think you’ve misunderstood. Trevor owns the bookshop and I’m the manager. It’s continuing as Book Ends.” I was determined to remain calm, even though my chest was fluttering with apprehension. “Did you just say you’re Mr Newman’s nephew?”

Tobias Black’s annoyed gaze blazed back at me. “Yes. Is that so difficult to comprehend?”

God, if rudeness were a disease, he’d be dead!

He gestured to the open bookshop door, the smell of paint and a chorus of hammering and sawing shooting out. “What the hell is going on here? I arrive to visit my uncle at his shop and I find it’s morphed into a doll’s house!”

“It isn’t a doll’s house,” I bit back, trying to rein in my growing dislike of this man. “It’s still the bookshop. It’s just undergoing a makeover.”

“You must be joking.” Tobias Black’s voice was incredulous. He peered through the windows again.

“No, I’m not.”

He stared me down. “Well, that’s a matter of opinion. Where’s my uncle? What have you done with him?”

“Done with him?” I let out a bark of laughter. “I haven’t done anything with him.”

I could see Tobias grind his jaw even harder.

He plucked his phone out of his jeans pocket and pulled up his contacts. “I’m getting my uncle down here right now to sort this mess out.”

So, my initial faint hope that he might be bluffing was shot down in flames.

I folded my arms and tried to reassure myself. “Feel free to ring Mr Newman. He’ll tell you what I just have.”

One thick, dark brow arched up to his hairline. “Oh, don’t worry, Ms Dunbar. I’m going to.”

Trevor answered the phone after a few rings and Tobias swaggered down past the bookshop, to hold their conversation in private. Every so often, he discharged black looks over his shoulder at me. What an ignorant git!

What the hell was going on?

After a couple more minutes, Tobias Black strode back up the pavement towards me, with an air of triumph. He’d just completed a second call to someone else and had been extolling the virtues of paint staining, granulation and transparency. His jacket carried the remnants of rain. “My uncle is on his way. We’ll soon have this mess sorted out.”

I hoped I sounded far more confident than I felt. “Yes. We will.”

John reappeared and made his way towards his van which was parked a few feet away. He cranked open the double doors to fetch more white paint and a roller.

Tobias eyed him. “Excuse me? What are you doing?”

John stared back. “I’m about to swim across Loch Bracken. What does it look like?”

Tobias Black pushed his mobile back into his rear pocket. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t undertake any more work on Book Ends until my uncle gets here.”

I struggled to keep my voice level. What did he think he was doing? Who’d put him in charge? “Now hang on a second, Mr Black…”

“Tobias? Tobias! What’s going on?”

Trevor was pushing his car keys into a pocket of his bottle green trousers and huddling into his quilted jacket. He was staring in disbelief down the pavement at his nephew.

None of this was making any sense. The prospect of losing the bookshop before I even had a chance to try and make a go of it made my stomach plummet.

I didn’t know what to think or who to believe. Just as I thought my life might be starting to sort itself out, this happens!