Page 60 of Happiness Under a Summer Skye

‘Ahhh, you’re not easy to keep secrets from,’ he said with a slur. ‘But I managed this one!’ He wagged his finger and gave a crooked smile. ‘I’m proud of myself because I’m usually useless at keeping things from you. I’ve even confessed my biggest secret to you, remember. Fat lot of good that did me, though.’ He smacked his forehead. ‘Ugh, I’m too pissed. Must sleep.’ He fell back onto the bed and before Angelia could say anything else he was snoring.

The following morning, Ed was surprisingly chipper and managed to cook a huge breakfast for them all and they sat around the kitchen table to eat. Angelia tried to make time to talk to Fiona again about what she had intimated the night before but there was never a time when Ed and Marcus weren’t around.

Eventually a taxi arrived to take Fiona and Marcus back to Glentorrin to pick up their car and Ed got a lift with them to go pick up Angelia’s car from the village.

As the taxi drove away, Angelia messaged Fiona.

Angel

We need to talk! I want to know what you meant last night. Has Ed said something to you?

Fiona replied straight away.

Fiona

No, it’s just a feeling I get. He was always trying to be with us at uni and I’ve seen the way he looks at you.

Angelia’s heart sank. She remembered the heart to heart she’d had with him at Glenbrittle and realised Fiona had got the wrong end of the stick.

Angel

Ah. I see. I’m sorry Fee but you’re mistaken. I actually know it’s you he’s always loved. We’ve talked about it. And I’ve been seeing the way he’s looked at you since we were at uni. It was you he was trying to be close to. Not me.

There was a long pause and then Fiona’s reply came.

Fiona

What? Really? No way! Oh heck, poor man. Well don’t I feel shitty now? He’s like a brother to me and that’s how I’ve always seen him. I felt sure I was right. Sorry about that, Angel. It’s a good thing you don’t love him then, eh? (winky face) Anyway, it was so good to see you. Can’t wait to see the shop next time when it’s not such a flying visit! Love you.

That was the end of the topic. Fiona had clearly been oblivious to Ed’s feelings, and it didn’t matter anyway seeing as she was head over heels in love with Marcus. The strange thing was, however, Ed didn’t seem to be in any rush to return to the orchestra, but when she asked him about it, he quickly changed the subject which was a little odd. She wondered if perhaps he was reluctant to go back and be face to face with Ava; perhaps the breakup had hurt him more than he had let on. Although she felt sure he’d talk about things when he felt ready. And in any case, she was in no hurry to send him away. She wasn’t exactly sure what she would do when he did leave. Having him around had been both reassuring and reaffirming. The only problem was her feelings for him had been rekindled in the process.

During the evenings that followed her surprise party, they sat and watched TV on the sofa together or read in that same companionable silence they had shared on their camping trip. She found herself watching him surreptitiously. She adored the way he played with his hair and chewed his bottom lip while concentrating. She loved the way he threw his head back and guffawed unabashedly at Last One Laughing, especially when his comedy hero, Bob Mortimer, was on the screen.

Why did all the men she liked have to be hung up on someone else?

It was Friday, the day before the summer concert, and Angelia and Ed made the journey down to Glentorrin to check on progress at the shop. The team of people Bella had arranged had been amazing. They had all been introduced to her and asked to sign non-disclosure agreements about what was going on and who they were working for. This had been handled by Den, and they had all signed without protest. Now every time she called in, they greeted her like an old friend.

They walked in through the front door of the shop and were met by the smell of fresh paint and wood stain which caused Scrappy to sneeze. A radio somewhere towards the back was playing The Darkness; a band Angelia had toured with and loved like brothers. Someone in the building was singing along, out of tune, to ‘I Hate Myself’, the falsetto parts were particularly cringeworthy, and Angelia made a mental note to email Justin Hawkins and joke with him that he had competition on a little island off the coast of Scotland.

Walking into the shop was like walking back in time. There were dark oak shelves to all the walls that reached two thirds towards the ceiling. The top third had been left for posters, and several cabinets had been built on the floor with slots ready for whatever albums would be stocked.

The carved oak counter was now situated towards the back of the shop floor and acted as a barrier which cut off the entrance to the private dwelling from the rest of the sales area, and the ornate old till was positioned atop it, so it was visible to everyone as an integral part of the shop’s history. There was a modern point of sale system on order which was to be incorporated into a tablet positioned in a specially created pull-out drawer on the cashier’s side, to keep the illusion of the ‘olde worlde’ feel.

The walls were currently being given their second coat of burgundy, and the shelves were being edged in gold paint. The stunning chandelier that Bella had sourced had been hung in a central position, but smaller lights had been hung on almost invisible wires to create enough light for browsing the records.

Over to the right was a block of three listening booths. These were small, soundproofed cubicles, each containing a turntable, a set of headphones and a chair. The idea was that people could try before they bought like they used to in the fifties, sixties and seventies. These had been one of the things Angelia was most excited about and seeing them come to fruition was mind-blowing. This place was so incredibly special.

Angelia was in awe of how much work had been carried out in less than three weeks and had already made a start on ordering stock from vintage and second-hand wholesalers online. Ed had loved being part of the stock sourcing for the shop and he had managed to locate an online vintage music poster site in the USA. His virtual cart was full in readiness for Angelia to give the go-ahead. All she had to do now was decide who would run the place. And the more she saw, the more she wanted that dream for herself. She had fallen in love with Skye all over again but most importantly, she had fallen in love with Glentorrin. Its people had hearts as big as boats, and they had accepted her and treated her like one of their own and it meant so much.

Bella arrived, tablet in hand, to do her own check on progress. ‘Hi, Angelia,’ she said with an air of giddy excitement. ‘What are you thinking of the place now? I bet you’re going to struggle to let it go. My money’s on you staying and running it yourself.’

Angelia shook her head. ‘I have to say, it’s very tempting. It’s incredible, Bella. The team have worked wonders, and I can’t quite believe how quickly it’s all coming together.’

Bella beamed at her in response. ‘I know, Noel is a star when it comes to getting things done.’

A middle-aged man with greying hair walked into the room from the direction of the flat entrance. ‘Did I hear my name mentioned?’ His white coveralls were spattered with the same burgundy paint, and he was wiping his hands on a cloth that was hooked into one of the belt loops at the waist.

‘You did, Noel,’ Bella said. ‘And it was all good, I can assure you.’