The Bookshop of Second Chances by Jackie Fraser (e books for reading txt) 📗

much matter, if I’m not staying for ever. Anyway, we got on fine when he came out to the Lodge. I even made him laugh.

I mention the job to Jenny when we’re drinking tea in the Old Mill later that day. She puts her cup down and stares at me.

‘Oh my God,’ she says, ‘you can’t work there. He’s such a dick.’

‘Is he, though? He seemed okay when he came round to value my books. We had quite a nice time. Anyway, I can deal with that. My old boss was a complete tosser. And it’s not like it’ll be permanent.’

‘Ach, I suppose not. I wonder if Rory’s leaving. Oh, he must be off to uni. He’ll be revising.’

‘Rory’s the boy who works in there?’ I’ve seen him a couple of times, putting things on shelves in the distance.

‘Aye, bless him. Before that, his brother worked there. Tom.’

‘They get on all right with Edward then?’

‘Oh, he’s only a dick with women. Mostly.’ She rolls her eyes.

‘What sort of a dick? I can handle moody and bad-tempered; I can’t be doing with wandering hands.’

Jenny laughs. ‘No, I’ve never heard that about him. The opposite even; I’ve friends who’ve made quite an effort in that direction.’

‘Really?’

‘Aye. To no avail. He’s a miserable git.’

A couple of days later, I’m in the shop again, leaning on the counter. Edward is in his chair, turned towards me. We’ve already talked about when he might come out again and look at the twentieth-century first editions. They’ll be harder for me to give up.

‘Oh, by the way. I saw your advert,’ I say. ‘I thought I’d apply.’

‘Advert?’

‘In the window. For an assistant?’

‘Oh, shit, no,’ he says. Even for Edward, that seems quite rude. I blink at him.

‘“Oh, shit no?” You could just say I’m clearly overqualified or something, no need to be offensive. Or more offensive than usual.’

He rummages in the drawer of his desk and pulls out a laminated notice, much like the others dotted around the shop. It says, REMEMBER, NO GIRLS.

‘This is my staffing policy,’ he says.

I laugh, and then try to disguise it with a cough. ‘I think that’s probably discriminatory. But never mind, I haven’t been a girl for decades.’

He looks at me, his mouth twisted. ‘Should I change it to say, No Women? I could get Rory to do that before he leaves. Anyway, it’s all the same. No female staff. Unless I’m desperate.’

‘I heard you were pretty desperate. When’s he off?’

He looks hunted. ‘Next Saturday’s his last day.’

‘A week today? Revising and then Interrailing, is it? That’s what I heard.’

‘Yes, does his exams and then it’s four weeks on a bloody train with his so-called mates, and then he’s off to uni. INGRATE,’ he yells in the direction of the fireplace, where Rory is shelving books from a large box. He turns his head and grins at us.

‘So anyway. No girls?’

‘Too much trouble.’

I shake my head, disbelieving. ‘It’s not your tree house.’

‘Yes, it is. It’s totally my tree house.’ Edward nods, firmly.

‘What kind of trouble, anyway? Weeping? Menstruating?’

‘Jesus Christ.’

This makes me laugh. ‘Well?’

He lifts a shoulder, irritable. ‘They fall in love with me. Or I fall in love with them. It’s stupid and annoying.’

I laugh again. ‘Oh, come on. You’re not serious.’

‘No, it’s true.’

‘Well, you needn’t worry, I’m not in a position to fall in love with you and I can’t imagine you’re likely to fall in love with me, are you? Don’t answer that,’ I add, ‘let’s take it as read, shall we?’

Rory puts the final book on the shelf and comes over. ‘You n-need someone, Edward. I’m only here this week.’

‘There, you see? Anyway, you can keep looking. I’ll only be here for the summer.’

‘How come you’re staying up? I thought you were only here for two weeks? You’ve already been here twice that.’ He folds his arms and looks at me suspiciously.

‘I like it. And it’s not like I’ve got a job at home. I told you, I was made redundant. So I can stay, for the moment.’

‘What about Mr Mottram? Doesn’t he mind you staying away all summer? Or is he coming up too?’

‘I don’t see why you’re so interested in my husband. He’d be very surprised.’

He glowers at me. ‘I’m not interested. I just wondered.’

‘That s-sounds like you’re interested,’ says Rory. He grins at me. Edward makes a sound of disgust, and Rory and I laugh.

‘Oh, for God’s sake. Can you work a till?’

We all look at the wooden box on the counter. I suck air in through my teeth. ‘Looks pretty technical. But I expect if someone teaches me how, I’ll be okay. I worked in HMV when I was at college,’ I add, ‘but I can see things have moved on a lot since those days.’

Rory laughs again. Edward frowns at me for a moment. ‘All right then. You’ – he points at Rory – ‘can train her. Can you start now? Today?’

I blink, surprised. ‘I suppose so. Yeah, why not.’

‘I’m going to Glasgow, then, now there’s two of you; for the sale. I’ll be back on Friday. Don’t let her do anything stupid. You’ – he points at me – ‘it’s minimum wage for the first month. Then we’ll discuss it. You’ – he points at Rory again – ‘teach her how the catalogue works. And there’s a delivery from Murchison coming later – so you can show her how to shelve.’

‘I reckon I can work that out myself.’

He glares at me. ‘Do as Rory tells you. Don’t do anything stupid.’

‘I’ll try not to. All right then. Thanks.’ I salute smartly. ‘You won’t regret this, Mr Maltravers, sir.’

‘I’d better not,’ he says.

Rory and I have quite a laugh. He’s shy, almost as tall as Edward, with pale strawberry blond hair and a rash of unfortunate spots. He’s off to St Andrews to do English in September, assuming he gets his grades. I love his accent. Edward’s one of those annoyingly posh Scottish people who don’t really have a Scottish accent,