Page 79 of The Bookshop By the Loch

A few moments later, my grandfather reappeared at the top of the stairs, looking like Noel Coward in his berry dressing gown. “What’s all this about, little dove? Why are you asking? I need my beauty sleep!”

I gave him a brief account of what happened earlier in the day at Book Ends. “Flora called Celeste Matthews that name in the bookshop and there was a bit of a commotion.” I paused. “So, do you know what this supposed scandal was, Grandpa?”

“Och, it was years ago now, lass. But if I recall right, some of the gossipy local lasses hinted some young woman from the area had got herself into a spot of bother.” Grandpa let out a snort. “I never used to pay any notice to their tittle-tattle. That Flora Simmonds has always had a nasty tongue in her head, mind. She still floats around the town as though she owns it.”

Grandpa heaved a tired sigh, wished me goodnight and then vanished back into his bedroom.

“I wouldn’t pay much heed to that old bag Flora,” muttered Mum. “You get to your bed. You need your sleep, young lady, running that business.”

Friday was a busy morning in Book Ends and Mirror Image respectively.

Mum was meeting up with Dad in the evening and every so often my stomach rolled in sympathy for her.

Dad had rung me before I left for work, stunned, then relieved and delighted that Mum had called him and agreed to meet up with him. He had jumped at her suggestion of seven o’clock up by Bracken Way Castle. “Should I buy her some flowers, Lex? She still loves stargazer lilies, right?”

“You might end up wearing them, Dad. Best just to go empty-handed for now and take it from there.”

I kept finding my head drifting away, thinking about my parents, so I decided to focus on updating the bookshop window display with a summery theme, to try and occupy my thoughts elsewhere.

I made it a sea of yellow- and blue-toned covers, side by side, with matching coloured buckets and spades I bought from the local gift shop.

I’d just finished arranging the books on top of two large sheets of lemon- and aqua-coloured paper, which I’d rippled to reflect the loch and shoreline, when I spotted Tobias out of the corner of my eye, strolling down the pavement.

My heart did a weird lurch, like a car being thrown into the wrong gear. I crouched lower in the bookshop window. I hated feeling like this, especially after he’d made it clear he viewed me just as a friend.

The sun was tangled in his curls and he was wearing a deep red shirt and pale trousers.

I dusted down the front of my cotton dress and clambered down and out of the window.

“Good morning,” I smiled, hoping he couldn’t hear my heart careering around.

He stared at me a little longer than usual, my dress billowing against my knees. “Morning.” He loitered for a few moments, before stalking past me towards the gallery. “How have things been? Sorry I wasn’t around yesterday. Bloody paperwork!”

“Oh, God,” I groaned at the memory. “Awful! Flora confronted Celeste in here after she recognised her and called her the silver songbird. Then Celeste took an odd turn and demanded to be taken back to the residential home.”

“So, all in all it went well then?” A small smile teased at his mouth. Then he frowned. “Silver songbird? What does that mean?”

“I’ve no idea.”

He prowled around, firing up his new coffee machine, which he’d installed the other day.

Here we go again, I groaned to myself. Skipping around one another.

Despite what I’d thought on Monday evening over dinner, there couldn’t have been any flirting. I must have imagined it. Or dreamt it.

I forced myself to dismiss any further notions of Tobias and me sharing anything other than a work-related, platonic friendship.

“Fancy one of my irresistible lattes?”

I blinked and dragged my attention back to Tobias, who was gesturing to his coffee machine. “Oh, go on. Thank you.”

Tobias waggled one cup in each hand. He started to make them.

“Have you had any more thoughts about speaking to your mum?” I asked him.

His hands stilled, clutching the coffee mugs. “No. I haven’t. Right now, I just want to blank it all out and concentrate on my art.”

“But Tobias, you can’t just avoid the issue. At some point, you’re going to have to talk to her.”