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

I don’t feel much when I look at the house, except that it seems smaller than I remember.

We go to Chichester for the day, and we go to look at the new flats, which are a bit pokey, if I’m honest, but I don’t plan on living there myself, so I guess that doesn’t matter. We discuss at some length whether it’s worth paying extra for the sea view. (It’s a pretty distant view.) We have lunch with Angela and Jeff, and dinner with Xanthe and Rob. I’m relieved that Edward is at his most charming, and they all seem to like him. Angela is wide-eyed when I help her fetch dessert, whispering, ‘Jesus, Thea, you didn’t say he was…’

‘Was what?’

‘Well, you know. Really good-looking.’

‘Oh, that. Didn’t I?’ I’m amused.

‘No, you didn’t. Jesus.’

‘Lucky he’s a grumpy sod, or he’d have been snapped up years ago.’

‘He absolutely doesn’t seem to be grumpy,’ she says, handing me a stack of dishes.

‘Yeah, I’ve cheered him up a bit, I think.’ I grin at her.

‘Bloody hell. Time I stopped feeling sorry for you.’

This makes me laugh. ‘I definitely don’t need your sympathy.’

‘I should think not.’

Twenty-Eight

It’s nearly April. In a fortnight, it will be the anniversary of my arrival.

I’ve had an idea, and it’s time to discuss it with Edward. I wait until breakfast on Sunday, when we’re lounging in the sitting room drinking coffee, with the spring sunshine falling all round us.

‘I thought maybe we should have a party,’ I say, cautiously.

He looks up from reading the paper on his phone. ‘A party? Good grief, are you mad?’

‘I know. Not a massive one. Just a few people. You know. We’ve been to dinner with some people, and–’

‘Yes, and if I’d realized having a girlfriend would mean being polite to my neighbours…’

I tilt my head at him. ‘Yeah? You’d what?’

‘I’d have accepted it grudgingly.’

I look at his irritable expression until he can’t hold it any longer and grins at me. ‘You’ve ruined my life,’ he says. ‘I used to be miserable all the time and now I’m forced to be happy.’

‘I’m going to ignore all that. Anyway, I thought, I’ve been up here a year, nearly. I’d like to do something to celebrate that. We could have some people round for drinks, and make party food… It needn’t be too awful.’

‘Hm.’

‘Otherwise it’s a series of dinner parties.’

‘No.’

‘That’s what I thought. Even though you’re a great cook and it’s a shame. But we could get through everyone, if we had drinks. All at once, I mean.’

‘Who would you invite?’

I begin listing people. After about fifteen or so, I say, ‘And I thought perhaps – only perhaps, so hear me out – maybe we could invite your brother?’

‘Why the hell would we do that?’

‘Because I get on okay with him, and it would be easier for everyone if you two could be in a room together.’

‘It’s not my fault we can’t be.’

This causes me to choke. ‘Oh my God. Yes, it is. Jesus Christ. You slept with his wife.’

‘Oh yeah.’

I laugh so much I go limp, sliding down the sofa cushions and hiccupping. He watches me, smiling, until eventually I manage to open my eyes properly and wipe away the tears. ‘Oh God. Well, now I’ve reminded you of that tiny fact. I don’t suppose he’d come, but if we invite him, we’re making a gesture, aren’t we, and maybe next time–’

‘You mean we’ll have to do this more than once?’

‘Edward Maltravers. However much I might like to sit up here and barely speak to anyone, that’s not how things work. It’s good to have friends, and it’s useful, and I’m not giving up my tiny social life just because I live with Mr Misanthrope.’

‘Huh.’

‘Huh yourself. Can I invite him? And whoever he’s seeing if he’s seeing someone?’

‘He won’t come.’

‘No, so there’s no risk, is there?’

He looks at me, considering. ‘What if he does?’

‘It’s not like you’d have a fight, would you? Wouldn’t that be a bit rude? I mean, to me. For him to bring it up. Would he bring it up? I can’t imagine he would.’

‘Hm.’

‘No, but he wouldn’t, would he? When I told him we were seeing each other, he didn’t really comment.’

‘What could he say? Don’t?’

‘He more or less said that once before. After you sacked me. He told me you were a shit.’

‘Pfft. He’s not wrong.’

‘Yeah, and I told him you said he was one.’

‘Ha.’

‘Anyway. What do you think?’

He looks thoughtful. ‘I think you’re right – he won’t come. Invite him if you like. If he does come, I can handle it.’

‘When was the last time you spoke?’

‘God knows. Possibly when he shouted, “Are you sleeping with Carolyn?” at me.’ He laughs and then tries to look serious. ‘Sorry. I know that’s not funny.’

‘Jesus.’

The flat is full of candlelight and the smell of canapés. We’ve been busy, everything’s polished and shining warmly, music plays, the dining room and sitting room are tidy and beautiful, full of people chatting, laughter. I feel very grown-up. I found a lovely dress on the internet and Edward looks… I know he’s my boyfriend, so obviously I find him attractive, but I keep looking at him in astonishment. He looks fantastic. He grumbled about ironing a shirt and polishing his shoes and said, ‘Why does it have to be formal?’

‘It’s not really formal, is it? It’s only people we know. You don’t have to dress up.’

‘You’re dressing up.’

‘I just have a nice frock.’

‘You’ve had your hair cut.’

‘Yes, but–’

‘And you look gorgeous.’

‘Thanks–’

‘I don’t want to let you down.’

I smile. ‘As if you could. You always look great.’

He doesn’t always look this good, though. Whenever I catch his eye, he winks at me exaggeratedly because I told him he looks hot.

We’ve not had anyone round since we’ve been together. Not that we ever had people round before. I admit I’m not that sociable, but I’ve always tried to fight my desire to sit in and read all the time. I have to