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

corner of the bedroom, which is the only place I can get a signal, and write Xanthe an email.

On Thursday, I go to the beach, even though it’s still raining. It’s ridiculously wet, but I don’t care. I’m pretty well freezing by the time I get home though, so it’s another afternoon bath for me.

At half past three, the doorbell rings. I’m surprised – the only time anyone knocks unexpectedly is when something is delivered. I didn’t hear a car, but then I wasn’t paying attention. I’ve been watching Acorn Antiques because I suddenly remembered that comedy existed and might be helpful. I bought the DVD for 50p in the charity shop, months ago, and I’m grateful to past Thea for this foresight.

I pause the laptop and go to answer the door.

It’s Charles, which is unexpected.

‘I thought I’d pop round and see how you were,’ he says.

‘Oh! Hello. I’m sorry, I’m not dressed, isn’t it shocking? Do you want to come in?’ Then I think that sounds rude. ‘I mean, come in, won’t you? Shall I put the kettle on?’

‘Thanks. I brought you these,’ he adds, offering me a wrapped flat box, which I anticipate contains chocolates.

‘Oh, how kind, thank you. Come through to the kitchen.’ I’m glad I bothered to wash up this morning, even though I didn’t want to. The kitchen is suitably tidy and doesn’t look too much as though it belongs to someone whose life has collapsed. I put the kettle on, and then open the parcel. My guess about chocolate was correct. Locally made; I’ve driven past the little factory, just outside Dumfries, and they sell them in the farm shop out by Wigtown.

‘I dropped Alexa off at her mother’s this morning,’ says Charles. ‘Drove past the shop.’

Alexa’s his daughter. I’ve seen her from a distance, but never met her. I’ve never seen the other one, Duncan, his son.

‘That’s very kind of you,’ I say. I open the box. ‘Ooh. They do look excellent.’

We sit down to drink our tea and have two chocolates each. Charles asks me how I am, and I tell him I’m fine.

‘You got your car then?’

‘Yeah, went in yesterday.’

‘You should have called me – I’d have taken you.’

I shrug. ‘Hardly got wet at all, it wasn’t a problem.’

We sit in slightly awkward silence.

‘Have you decided what you’re going to do? About work?’

‘God, no. No, I’ve no idea. I should see if I can find something else,’ I say, ‘or maybe I should just go home.’

‘You mean back to Sussex?’

‘Perhaps.’

‘Oh. Don’t rush into anything,’ he says. ‘I’m sure you’d be able to find something.’

‘Yes, well. We’ll see.’ I clear my throat. I don’t know what to say to him; it’s not like I didn’t see him earlier in the week. I know he wants to ask about Monday, but I’m not going to tell him.

‘You know he’s not worth being upset about,’ he says. ‘I don’t know what happened, but–’

‘Look, I don’t want to talk about it. Thanks. It’s not important, I’ll be fine, I just need to make a plan. I’d prefer not to have been sacked, but it doesn’t matter. I know it looks bad that I’m sitting here in my PJs, but I’ve been out today and everything. I’ve just been watching films, you know. It’s like being on holiday,’ I lie, ‘so I thought I’d make the best of it.’

‘I saw Jilly at the farm shop, she said–’

‘I’m sure everyone’s deeply fascinated,’ I say. ‘It’s a shame there were customers in.’

He frowns at me. ‘Did something happen last week? Between you and Edward? Is that why he sacked you?’

I sigh. ‘Charles, I don’t want to be rude, you’ve been so kind, and I appreciate that, honestly. But I don’t want to talk to anyone about any of this, least of all you.’

‘Only, you know, he–’

‘Charles.’

He opens his mouth and then shuts it again.

‘Good.’

‘All right,’ he says. ‘Well look, if there’s anything I can do, anything at all…’

I finish my tea. ‘Thank you. If I think of anything, I’ll let you know.’ I smile at him. ‘If you could sort the weather out, that would be great.’

‘Sadly I can’t do much about that.’ He puts his mug down. ‘I’d better get going. I’ve got people coming to dinner.’

‘Are you cooking?’ I can’t imagine he is.

‘No. No, Lynda’s in charge of all that.’

‘Oh, of course. I always forget about Lynda.’

‘I’d be completely buggered without her,’ he says, and stands up. ‘I hope you feel better anyway.’

‘Oh God, I’ll be fine. Thank you for the chocolates.’

In the hallway he hesitates. ‘Look. You mustn’t let him upset you.’

‘Charles.’

Frowning, he says, ‘He’s got no idea about women – he never has had.’

‘Look, it’s none of your business, is it? I told you I didn’t want to be rude, but I also told you I didn’t want to talk about it.’

‘I wish you would though,’ he says.

There’s quite a long pause.

‘You should get going,’ I say, ‘or you’ll be late for your dinner.’ I open the door. ‘Still raining,’ I add, peering out into the gathering gloom.

‘Yes. All right. Please don’t be sad – I don’t like to see you so down.’

‘I’ll be fine. I’m a grown-up,’ I say, but it is quite sweet of him, so I let him kiss my cheek as water drips around us.

‘Have a good evening,’ I say, and wave as he hurries across to his shiny red car.

I’ve barely sat down when there’s a hammering at the door. I’m startled; I live essentially in the middle of nowhere, it’s not like people call round, and now I’ve had two visitors in one day. Or perhaps Charles has forgotten something? I hurry back into the hallway, retying the belt of my dressing gown, and open the door.

To a furious Edward, face like thunder.

Twenty-Two

‘What the hell was he doing here?’ he snarls. I take a step backwards, and he looms at me, dripping raindrops onto the flagstones. He looks at my