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

where to look, or what to say. He closes his eyes and continues. ‘I’ve known since we went to the Shed. Not that I admitted it then, even to myself. But it was great, being there with you. I thought it would be – that’s why I asked you. I’ve always found your company very relaxing. Almost like being by myself, but better. I like the way you don’t need to be looked after all the time. And I like the way you don’t get bored.’

‘I hardly ever get bored,’ I admit. ‘And how would I get bored at the Shed? It’s brilliant.’

He smiles at me. ‘I know. That’s how I feel about it too. But I thought you were married. But then you told me about Chris – I could see how upset you were. And you’d never done anything to make me think you might… to make me think you were interested in me. And when you cut your head open–’

I’m uncomfortable, now, thinking of that, his fingers in my hair.

‘I forgot where I was, when I was looking at your hair; or who I was, or… something.’

‘Yeah, that was a bit weird. No one had touched me for ages,’ I say. ‘It was quite – intense.’

‘Yes.’

I clear my throat, embarrassed.

‘That’s why I was worried you’d think I’d manipulated the situation. By drinking too much. Trapping you there. And I thought about how if it hadn’t mattered,’ he says, ‘I might have made a pass at you, I suppose. But I knew it mattered more than that. I had such a nice time.’

‘I did too. It was lovely. Even though I was slightly anxious.’ Then I see his face, and say, ‘Um, just because I thought it might be… awkward. Like when you kissed me on Wednesday. I know you didn’t mean to, and it upset me that you–’

‘Yeah, well, it wasn’t that I didn’t mean to. But it was completely the wrong time to kiss you. Not saying there’d be a right time. But I wasn’t trying to take advantage of you. Of the way you felt.’

‘I know.’

‘I just wanted to make you feel better.’ He purses his lips, frowning. ‘And I wanted to kiss you.’

‘Um.’

‘So I’m sorry about that. I know you… I know it didn’t mean anything. To you.’ He looks almost anxious, as he says this, and I think, not for the first time, how odd it is that we can never know the truth of another’s thoughts.

‘I’m not sure what makes you think that,’ I say. ‘I mean, I’m not completely dead inside.’

There’s a pause.

‘You see the thing is–’ I start, as he says, ‘I wasn’t sure if–’

‘Go on,’ I say.

‘No, you first.’

I gather myself. ‘You see the thing is, I have been thinking about it. For ages. About you. And I think… I think if you like someone, it’s much harder to tell if they like you too. Harder than if you were indifferent.’

I don’t think he’s going to help me out, here – he’s just staring. I soldier on.

‘I’m probably not in a very good place. Emotionally. God knows I’ll never forget how awful everything was at the beginning of this year. But I felt like I’d been doing okay. Making progress. Because coming up here made it easier for me to forget that any of it was true or real. I’d got used to feeling like it must be my fault, somehow, that he left. Even though I know logically that’s not true. I know I’ll get used to being by myself, and I’ll bumble along like other divorced people and it will be fine. Because I haven’t been as lonely as I might have expected, and that’s partly down to you.’ I pause again, trying to find the right words. For someone who talks a lot I find it hard to get the words right when it matters. ‘Because while you’re quite rude, and obnoxious, and not even always there – despite all that, having the shop, and someone to talk to about all kinds of things that were nothing to do with Chris or the house or the failure of my life… I felt like I was almost me again, in some ways. Properly me, Thea Hamilton. Not Thea Mottram. If I were to go home, I expect it would be awful again, because I’d have to see people and places and all the ordinary everyday things that will never be the same. So maybe it’s all been false, this notion of myself as a new version of me, you know. But anyway.’ I falter, unsure of how to stop. ‘Sorry, I seem to have been talking for ages.’

‘You can talk as much as you like,’ he says, ‘I don’t mind.’

‘But you were going to say something. Ages ago, before I–’

‘When you say you’re not indifferent,’ he says, then pauses. ‘Is that what you were saying? At the beginning? I was listening to all of it, but I’ve rather latched onto that–’

‘I wanted you to kiss me, yes. If that’s what you’re asking.’ I roll my eyes. ‘Or at least, it was a surprise, but not an unpleasant one. And maybe it wasn’t the best time. But I thought you might before, you know. When I had to run after you because you were being a twat. I thought you were going to kiss me then.’

He looks slightly embarrassed. ‘In the doorway? Yeah, I–’

‘That was the first time I thought you might… but then you didn’t, and I thought I must have imagined it. But anyway. It’s not like I minded, when you kissed me. I really didn’t. But you know that, right?’

‘I–’

‘Right?’

‘I didn’t… I wasn’t sure. I should have asked you if it was okay. I felt bad. But you wanted me to kiss you?’ He looks painfully unsure of himself, and it’s probably lucky I’m sitting too far away to be able to reach him. I want to reassure him, to soothe and comfort him. I’m