The Bookshop of Second Chances by Jackie Fraser (best life changing books .TXT) 📕

the problem is, Charles, you’ve no self-awareness.’

‘But that was a joke,’ says Charles.

‘Yes, a joke to you. But very serious to me.’

‘But–’

‘Charles,’ I say, ‘there’s no point “butting”. You did something childish and hurtful and although you were obviously more or less a child at the time and I think Edward could have dealt with it in a… healthier fashion–’

‘Thanks, doll,’ says Edward, and I have to concentrate in order not to laugh.

‘No one’s saying that sleeping with all your girlfriends was a good idea – but can you at least see what might have put the idea into his mind?’

‘Shit,’ says Charles. ‘But it was a joke.’

‘I really liked her,’ says Edward. ‘Yes, it all sounds pathetic now, doesn’t it, thirty fucking years later, but at the time I was devastated. And because I spent the next twenty years arsing about and failing to meet anyone, it’s still one of the worst things that’s ever happened to me. I suppose if we’d ever been friends it wouldn’t have happened. But we haven’t, have we?’

Charles, frowning, doesn’t say anything.

‘Try not to bleed on the bed,’ I say. ‘If you can help it. I’ll get you some tissues.’ I look at Edward. ‘No fighting while I’m gone.’

‘Okay, boss,’ he says. He shakes his head at me. ‘Was this in your plan?’

‘No, it bloody wasn’t.’

I fetch a wet flannel and a towel from the bathroom, as well as tissues, and take it all back to the bedroom. Charles dabs at his face. I sigh heavily.

‘I have to go back downstairs,’ I say. ‘I can’t just leave everyone on their own. How do you feel?’

‘By face hurts,’ Charles says, indistinctly.

‘I should think it does.’ I glance at Edward. ‘Are you coming back downstairs?’

‘In a moment.’

‘No fighting.’

He shakes his head. ‘I promise.’

I shut the door on them and hurry back down to the sitting room.

‘What’s going on up there?’ asks Alastair.

‘Some kind of sibling nightmare.’

‘Are they fighting?’

‘Not now.’

Jenny laughs. ‘But they were? We could hear Edward shouting.’

‘I’m so embarrassed,’ I say. ‘I’d never have thought getting involved with the minor aristocracy would be so much like a soap opera.’

She laughs again. ‘Are they talking now?’

‘God knows. As long as no one’s getting punched, I don’t care.’

Louise, the dentist, comes over. ‘We should probably be getting back for the babysitter,’ she says. ‘Is everything okay?’

‘It’s fine, don’t worry.’ I glance from her to Robert, her husband. ‘Must you go? I feel bad for abandoning you all.’

‘Oh no, don’t feel bad.’ She smiles at me. ‘Entertaining is a tricky business. I can’t believe you even got them both in the same room.’

‘Beginning to wish I hadn’t,’ I say, gloomily.

‘Don’t say that. It’s quite a coup. And I’m sure it will all work out. Anyway, thank you so much for inviting us. Maybe you’ll be able to get Edward out for Rob’s fiftieth? It’s in May – I’ll send you an invitation.’

The chat becomes general and several other people mutter about making a move. Soon they’re gathering coats and beginning to descend the staircase.

‘Do you need us to help you tidy up?’ asks Cerys. ‘You know we’re trained in this sort of thing.’

‘Catering queens,’ agrees Jilly. ‘I can carry five full dinner plates at a time.’

‘No, there’s not much to do, is there? Just collecting glasses.’ I look round. It’s true, mostly glasses, on end tables and bookshelves.

‘If you’re sure. I hope you don’t have to spend any more of your evening listening to the pair of them talking shit to each other.’ Cerys chuckles.

I snort. ‘Here’s hoping.’

‘D’you want us to take Charles home, aye?’ That’s Gavin, the bathroom man. ‘He’s more or less on the way for us.’

I hesitate. ‘I don’t know. He can’t drive, that’s for sure. But he can stay here; we’re well supplied with bedrooms.’

The final guests collect their belongings and I follow them down the stairs and into the shop.

‘It was lovely,’ says Jenny, ‘please don’t think it wasn’t. Don’t give up having people round because of this. It was great to spend an evening with you both, and the food was amazing.’

I smile at her gratefully. ‘It was, wasn’t it? All Edward. He’s a wasted talent.’

I watch them all out into the street, waving and calling goodbye to each other, and then I lock the front door behind them and go back upstairs. The sitting room seems strangely empty. I pick up some glasses and plates and take them through to the kitchen, and go into the dining room to see what, if anything, is left of the food. I eat two spoonsful of guacamole and some miniature crab cakes, and then, sighing, ascend the second flight of stairs to see what’s going on.

In the spare bedroom, Charles has taken his shoes off and is propped up on the pillows, a wad of tissues held to his face. Edward is in the armchair by the window and he must have slipped downstairs while I was seeing everyone out because there’s a bottle of Talisker and two glasses on the bedside table. I shake my head.

‘Is more booze really what’s required?’

‘Medicinal,’ says Charles, rather thickly, like someone with a bad cold.

‘Are you still bleeding?’

‘I don’t think so.’ He pulls the tissues away and looks at them. ‘Hardly at all.’

‘Good. You’d better stay here,’ I say, ‘if you think Lynda will have gone to bed.’

He looks at Edward, who shrugs.

‘Thanks.’

‘Okay, well. I’d better go and load the dishwasher,’ I say. ‘It would be good to get at least one–’

‘I’m sorry about before,’ says Charles. He looks up at the ceiling, unwilling to meet my eye. ‘I was being a… I behaved very badly.’

‘Yes,’ agrees Edward.

I wave a hand. ‘Just don’t do it again.’

‘I apologize though.’

‘Yes, yes, I forgive you. If the pair of you could agree to attempt some kind of civil behaviour in the future, that would be enough.’

They look at each other.

‘Can’t promise much more than very basic civility,’ says Edward.

‘Willing to make the attempt,’ says Charles.

‘I suppose that