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‘It’s not the shop, it’s… it’s me. If there were actually some customers in the village maybe I could sell some books, get that feeling back of being a bookseller. Ah, Ilovedthat feeling. And I could do inventory, and order new stock. That’s what I want to do. To prove that maybe I can actually do it. To remember I wasn’t so bad at it, after all. But the place is dead. The storms chased everyone away and I’m just sitting there alone, like I was before. And I don’t like so much time to think; it feels bad, and all those unread, unsold books on the shelves!’ He seemed to shudder at this. ‘It reminds me too much of my…’ Magnús’s words tailed off.
‘Say it. It’ll help,’ Alex urged, entirely forgetting she’d have run a mile if he’d been pressing her to vocalise her feelings like this.
‘My failure. It reminds me too much of my failure.’
Alex was right. Saying the words aloud loosened the hard knot he’d been carrying in his chest, and other words followed, tumbling out of his mouth.
‘I had everything I wanted and it went wrong, and I don’t know why, honestly. I haveno ideawhat went wrong for me. My teachers, my parents, they told me if you work for something and you really fight for it, it will happen. So that’s what I did. I studied, I worked, I saved. I spent every hour I could at my shop and I still lost it all. And now I don’t know how I’ll ever get back that enthusiasm, that drive, you know? I failed, and it’s gone. Does that make sense?’
Alex thought hard. ‘I think so. I mean, I haven’t been in the same position.’ It struck her that she’d never striven the way Magnús described. She’d never had the same ambition, or courage. ‘I’ve always done my best, I suppose. But I’ve never had anything I really, really wanted, like your Ash…’
‘And the Crash.’
‘Right.’ She gulped, feeling dizzier by the second at the feelings rushing in. ‘You really went for it. I admire that. I’ve always just gone along with life.’ Saying it out loud for the first time pained her almost as much as seeing the sorrow in Magnús’s eyes when he beat himself up about his business going under.
In her mind, she replayed how she’d tumbled headlong into humdrum. The day after the funeral, lifting her dad’s keys and going to the riverside, walking like an automaton, not knowing what else to do for the best. She’d started the motor and written the crossing times on the chalk board and within half an hour she’d ferried her first customers. It had been as easy as that to fall into. There’d been no intention or planning behind it, only a feeling of being lost, and maybe a sense of duty and of wanting to stay in the same familiar pattern set by her father. A horrible thought struck her.
‘I didn’t put in any of the work you did, and I still lost everything anyway.’ Her voice shook. She took a gulp of champagne to disguise it.
‘So you’re damned if you try and damned if you don’t?’ Magnús said. ‘I hate that.’
This made Alex shake her head. ‘No.No, that can’t be right. Some people get their dreams, right?’
‘Já, plenty.’ Magnús was surprised to find himself thinking of Izaak and Leonid and the story they’d told him. They’d achieved their dream jobs, a happy home, and real love all at once.
Magnús’s hand made its own way to the throb in his chest and he rubbed at it. He said once more that he’d had too much champagne. All the while, Alex’s eyes were darting and flickering in the half light as she sifted through the thoughts coming to her.
‘I won’t accept that you can’t have your dream,’ she said at last.
‘What’s this? You’re having some kind of inspiration?’
‘We’ll open your shop,’ she told him, a smile spreading.
‘We will?’
‘Yes!’ She was emphatic. ‘Tomorrow, first thing. Why not? You want to prove you’re not some faker or a failure? Let’s open the shop and sell books all day and… do whatever booksellers do. And I,’ she rose to her feet, ‘I could run the café!’
These last words had flown from her subconscious straight out of her mouth. She froze at the sound of them resounding in the cloakroom.
‘You want to do that?’ Magnús narrowed his eyes.
‘Um.’ She thought, suddenly becoming still. ‘Yes. I really think I do.’ More emphatic nodding followed, her mind catching up with her mood. ‘I think I’d really,reallylike that, actually.’
‘Like your mum.’ Now Magnús was the one wondering at his words. He’d risen to his feet too. ‘Sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. You got me all worked up about the shop, I was just excited.’
‘No, you’re right. I think I’d like to be in that café and see what it feels like.’ The last of her words got lost in a hurried gulp of emotion.
Where was all this coming from? She knew she wanted to hide away in Clove Lore until she worked out what to do next, but now she was volunteering to run a café?
‘What will you sell in your café?’ Magnús was grinning at her now, even though her adrenaline was spiking and eyes widening like saucers.
‘I guess, milkshakes and toasties and chocolate crispy squares?’
‘OK,’ Magnús laughed, and he took her hands in his. ‘OK,’ he nodded, wanting to reassure her. ‘Let’s do that. And we won’t play, we’ll really do our best. Bookselling and feeding people.’
Magnús’s touch sparked another level of light-headedness in Alex and she found her gaze lifting from where he clasped her fingers to meet his shining eyes. He really was glowing on the inside, she could feel it.
One of them was breathing loudly but she wasn’t sure which, and their feet seemed to have shifted closer, closing the distance between them until their joined hands were pressed between their chests.
