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There’s a knock at the door, so I take a deep breath and tell myself to relax. It’s simply a casual date with a gorgeous man and a chance to get to know him better.He will be a useful resource for the library and I hope we can work well together for both of our sakes.
I open the door and there he stands, also wearing jeans and a tee. He’s every girl’s dream with his mop of dark hair, and soulful eyes. ‘Hey, Finn,’ I say, waving him into the small foyer. The cottage came furnished, which helped since I haven’t had time to think of anything other than the library, but I’m looking forward to putting my own personal touch on the place. So far, all I’ve done is fill up the bookshelves with some favourites from home.
Inside, Finn gives me a peck on the cheek like a gentleman and it’s hard to ignore the fact that he smells downright luscious. He brandishes a bunch of wild roses from behind his back. So, he’s a romantic too? It doesn’t end there; he also gives me a book: Matt Haig’sThe Midnight Library. If this isn’t the way to woo a bookworm, I don’t know what is.
‘I hope you haven’t read it yet.’
I read the blurb on the back cover, already knowing it’s a book I’m going to devour in one sitting. A book about a librarian – tick! ‘Thank you, Finn. I haven’t read it, but it looks like the perfect book for me. It was very sweet of you. Come in, while I find a vase for these beauties.’ I’m touched beyond words and only wish I had a gift for him. I’m beyond out of touch with the dating world.
We head to the kitchen. I can’t find a vase so I settle for a jar, fill it up and set the flowers free. ‘The welcoming committee are doing an outstanding job so far, I must say.’
A blush creeps up his cheeks. Huh. I didn’t think he’d be the blushing sort. I’ve met a lot of reporters in my life, and if I’m to tar them all with one brush the word I’d use to describe them isconfident.Egotisticalis another. Yet Finn isn’t like that. Maybe it’s growing up in a smaller town, so he’s never developed the ruthless part of his personality like so many men in London.
‘Glad to hear it.’ He grins. ‘Are you ready to bewowedby the town of Willow Grove?’
‘Am I ever.’ So far this man is doing everything right but I silently warn myself not to get swept up in him.I can’t.Nothing about my stay here is certain yet.
I grab my things and we walk into the balmy summer night and wander towards town proper. Finn points out who lives where and what they do. If I need a plumber or a painter, I’ll know which door to knock on. ‘Willow Grove is a decent-sized town but has more of a small village vibe, so as you can imagine everyone knows everything and it’s impossible to hide a secret, which is great for me – being the town reporter – but not so good if you’re trying to keep your life private.’
I’m counting on some of these residents joining the library, and I only hope there’s enough people here and in the neighbouring towns in order to make it happen. ‘What do you usually report on? I can’t see this place being a hotbed of crime.’
‘Oh the usual,’ he says, sweeping his hair back from his face. He has the most striking chiselled jawline that conjures a hero on the cover of a romance novel. I don’t think I’ve ever noticed a man’s jawline before. What’s happening to me! ‘Like who won the best Victoria sponge at the bake-off. Then there’s the annual model train symposium – tensions are always high for that. The twenty or so model railway enthusiasts are extremely competitive and set up their stations as if they’re about to board real passengers. It’s quite the coup for Willow Grove – it draws a huge crowd.Then there’s the knitting circle. They sell their creations and donate the money to various charities. I interview them all and eat a lot of that Victoria sponge I was telling you about. It never stops. There’s bingo, bird watching, the gardening club. There’s the ruins of an old castle – that’s always ripe for a good story come Halloween or when someone of note takes wedding pictures there. Not to mention the various animal refuges, and events with them throughout the year. I’m telling you, you have to keep your finger on the pulse in these parts. If you blink, you’ll miss all the fun.’
‘So you’re a social commentator too?’ I manage to say and focus on looking forward, instead of at Finn. There’s a distinct wobbliness to my legs, which I can only put down to being in his presence. This whole being free of the Astor name has a lot to answer for. It’s sending me downright batty.
He gives a light shrug. ‘I’m … everything. I like to think I stand up for the underdog, but there’s not a lottostand up for here.’
I bite my lip and debate whether to disagree. I’m still new here. I really don’t know what happens behind closed doors, but Harry and Alfie spring to mind as two really special people who’ve been cast aside and could do with someone speaking up for them. ‘Are you sure about that?’
‘Why, what do you know?’ He mimes taking a pad from his pocket and writing notes as if it’s a hot story. ‘Oh … Careful.’ Finn grabs my arm and pulls me sideways around a puddle.
‘Thanks.’ I bet he’s the old-school romantic type.
He waves me away. ‘Sorry to interrupt – puddles are downright ankle-breaking around here. What were you saying?’
I dig my hands into my pockets and formulate my answer.‘Well, it’s just that I’ve met a couple of people here who look like they could really use a friend or two. From what I can see they haven’t been given a fair go. I sort of expected the opposite in a tight-knit community like Willow Grove.’
He frowns, the light gone from his eyes. ‘Harry, you mean?
‘Yes, Harry and a little boy called Alfie. I can only guess about Harry’s history but I was shocked when Maisie took offence at me letting “Homeless Harry” into the library.’ I cringe using the moniker but it needs to be told. ‘And she warned me that I’d lose memberships over such a thing. I felt like I was in some kind of twilight zone.’
Finn shakes his head, his dark hair turning silver in the filmy dusk. ‘Homeless Harry – such an awful way to describe someone, but for what it’s worth I expect the name’s stuck over the years for most of the locals in Willow Grove and they don’t even realise how offensive it sounds. I don’t know too much about him or how he came to be homeless but I do know he was married and had children once upon a time. Makes you wonder where they are and why he’s living this way. I’ve tried to link him in with organisations who can offer support but he wants no part of it.’
Finn lift his palms as if to say it’s out of his hands. ‘But perhaps I didn’t try hard enough. It pains me to think he feels like an outsider and I gave up on him so quickly. I just got the feeling he wanted to be left alone and I didn’t want to overstep the mark.’ The way he explains it shows me that this man has a heart that it seems some of the people in town lack.
‘Yes, it’s hard to know exactly what to do in that situation. I wasn’t sure how much to pry either. Harry mentioned that you were the only person he’s talked to in years.’
‘I’m theonlyone?’ Finn’s face registers shock.
I nod. ‘He says people pretend he’s not there, and that he feels like he’s invisible. You have to wonder what sort of psychological damage that does to a person. Feeling as though they’re so worthless that they’re not even worth the time of day to say hello to. Maybe there are people in town who would say hello and help if they knew his story, but Harry’s confidence is already at an all-time low so he hides out, stays among the shadows. The previous librarian didn’t help by banning him from the library.’
He grimaces. ‘I knew he had problems with Agnes Bitterweather – she wasn’t exactly understanding of his plight, but then again, she wasn’t really understanding of anyone. Old-school in her ways. Archaic, even. I guess once the library started sinking and she couldn’t save it she just gave up, and dare I say it, became quitebitterand Harry probably copped the brunt of it.’ He shakes his head and dips his head as if he’s disappointed with himself. ‘I had no idea he felt so unseen, so invisible. Ipresumedthat’s what he wanted, to be left alone.’
Perhaps the residents of Willow Grove aren’t as heartless as I’m imagining; maybe like Finn they thought that Harry wanted to be left to his own devices, his presence ignored so as to not make a big deal about his situation and potentially make him feel vulnerable. ‘That makes sense,’ I say. ‘But it’s not the case it seems. Harry feels ostracised. I’m hoping I can find out more about him, and see what he wants, what he needs. He’s been spending more time in the library, but it’s all baby steps. He hasn’t opened up about himself, as much as he has about the locals in town, and let me tell you, for someone who doesn’t have conversations with many people, he certainly sees and knows a lot.’
‘I bet! And what about Alfie? I haven’t come across him.’ We come to a crossroad and Finn grabs my hand as we cross. We stop briefly to wait for a car, and then he lets my hand go. He’s quite the protective sort, it seems. It makes me wonder if Finn has a child, the way he looks out for me in an almost subconscious way as though he’s had a lot of practice crossing roads with a small child in hand. Maybe that caring side just comes naturally to him … still my palm pulses from his touch – am I truly going mad?
I try and focus on the conversation and what I’m trying to explain. ‘Alfie’s an eleven-year-old boy who has all these superpowers but doesn’t attend mainstream school because of the bullying he’s been subjected to. He’s the funniest little lad. He’s got absolutely no filter and blurts out exactly what he thinks. At the moment he’s using the library as a schoolroom but we don’t have up-to-date books for him. His mum Jo is run ragged trying to provide for themandbe his teacher. Jo says he’s lonely and he needs some friends …’
