The Little Bookshop at Herring Cove. Kellie HailesЧитать онлайн книгу.

       CHAPTER THREE

      Sophie paced the length of her small lounge, hit the pastel lavender-painted wall. Turned. Paced back. Stared out over the lamp-lit lane below, not seeing the villagers strolling home from the pub, or her cat, Puddles, prowling along the path, hiding behind flower boxes, lamps and the tyres of parked cars as he stalked a mouse.

      What the heck was taking Alexander so long at Natalie’s? What business did he have with her?

      She blew out an exasperated sigh. She knew exactly what business he had with Natalie. The same as he had with her. Except Natalie wouldn’t sell. Surely not?

      Herring Cove was her home. Her hair salon was her livelihood. Her two kids were her everything; surely she wouldn’t rip them away from their home just because some man in a fancy suit flashed some money in her direction?

      She heard the click of a door closing and pressed herself to the wall, leaning over just enough that she could look down on the lane without being seen.

      Alexander filled her field of vision. Was that a spring in his step? A triumphant smile on his face? Damn it. She couldn’t tell through the late evening gloom.

      There was only one thing for it.

      She snatched up a lightweight sunshine-yellow cardigan from the back of the couch and shrugged it on. Summer may officially be here, but the nights were cool enough that an extra layer was called for. Even if you were only going next door.

      She jogged down the stairs, then locked up the shop, even though she didn’t have to. Crimes committed were few and far between in Herring Cove, and usually of the petty variety, like kids nicking off with flowers from flower boxes the night before Mother’s Day. Still, it was better to be safe than sorry. She didn’t have much, but what few trinkets she had were touchstones to her parents, and losing them would mean losing a little more of her heart.

      She walked the few steps to her neighbour and friend Natalie’s home and business, opened the door, and poked her head over the threshold. ‘Nat? You in?’

      Miniature elephants running over the wooden floorboards answered her call.

      ‘Muuuuuummmmm!’

      ‘Mummy!’

      ‘Aunsof’s here!’ Natalie’s two children chorused in unison, as they opened the flat above the salon’s door and two identical mops of brown curly hair with matching sparkling chestnut brown eyes came into view.

      Sophie smiled up at them, the weight on her heart and mind instantly lightening. Joe and Bella, along with Natalie and Ginny, were the closest thing she had to family.

      She’d witnessed their christenings and attended all their birthdays. She’d almost been there for Joe’s first steps, but had seen his eighth, ninth and tenth as he tottered into her shop. She’d been named Bella’s godmother. And from the day Joe could say her name she’d been Aunsof because he couldn’t get his wee tongue around Aunty Sophie, a title Natalie had insisted on. A matter of respect, she’d said. But Sophie suspected it was Natalie’s way of giving her the family she knew her friend longed for, but didn’t see herself ever having.

      The shipwreck that was her last relationship had seen her vow to never get involved with a man again. She’d risked her heart once, and as far as she was concerned, when it came to love and falling in it she was all washed up. Even if a tiny, sliver of her heart tried to convince her otherwise. Whispered in her quiet moments that she should let love in, learn to trust again.

      She’d let the loneliness win once, and where had that got her? Alone, broke, with no desire for a repeat performance.

      Natalie’s head appeared around the corner. ‘You kids, get out of the doorway. Give Aunty Sophie some room.’

      The worry that had tinged Natalie’s words in the past few months was gone, Sophie noted as she entered the lounge – an exact replica of hers, but painted in a riotous blaze of yellow and red, instead of the calming purple hue that had been Sophie’s mother’s colour of choice. There was also a brightness in Natalie’s tone that she’d not heard since her husband had left her for another woman.

      ‘Hey.’ She squatted down on the floor beside Natalie, who was folding a mountain of laundry, and gave her a half hug and a kiss on the cheek. ‘Need a hand?’

      ‘Always.’ Natalie rolled her eyes good-naturedly. ‘I swear Joe just needs to look at dirt and it’s on his clothes. And Bella changes three times a day and refuses to wear anything that hasn’t been washed. I try tricking her by putting the clothing all nice and folded back in her drawers – but it’s like she knows. Strange child.’ She shook her head, affection warming her face as a smile blossomed.

      The adoration on her friend’s face tugged at Sophie’s heart. What would it be like to look at a little person in that way? To feel bemused, frustrated, and absolutely unstoppably in love, all at the same time? Was that how her mother once looked at her, before the crash that had stolen her away?

      She faced the window and blinked, refusing to entertain the tears that threatened. There was no point in pondering the past. Or considering that kind of future.

      It had been hard enough for her to commit to a cat, but there was no way she could’ve left wee Puddles to look after himself when she’d found him wandering the lane, mewling mournfully. No family of his own to be found. He’d been so small, innocent and helpless, and before she could overthink the situation she’d scooped him up in her arms and taken him home with her.

      Now he was her constant companion, her little shadow. Her little light.

      ‘You’re a million miles away, Soph.’ Natalie laid a warm hand upon her shoulder, bringing her back to earth. ‘What’s up?’

      Sophie settled herself into a more comfortable, cross-legged position and tried to brace the subject of Natalie potentially selling to the Fletcher Group as casually as possible. ‘Something strange happened today. A man from that company that wants to build the resort in Herring Cove came to the shop. He wants to buy it.’

      ‘Aha…’ Natalie’s lips mashed together.

      ‘Does that seem weird to you?’

      Natalie shifted her gaze from Sophie to the floor. ‘Yeah. I mean, no. We’ve all heard the talk down at the pub. They’ve bought the farm behind us. Mr Murphy’s sold as well. If they want that land it makes sense that they’d want your land… or mine.’

      Sophie’s suspicion deepened. A knot formed in her stomach. Natalie was acting strange. Off. Like she was hiding something. Keeping something from Sophie.

      ‘Nat? Do you have something to tell me?’

      Nat shook her head. ‘No.’

      The word came out a squeak.

      ‘That “no” sounds like a yes.’

      ‘I don’t want to say. I don’t want to upset you. So if I say nothing, you can’t be upset with me.’ Natalie zipped her mouth shut, then turned an invisible key.

      Sophie’s stomach plummeted and nausea swelled. ‘Are you trying to not tell me that you’ve sold the shop? Your business? Your home?’ Sophie tried to keep the reproach from her voice. The hurt. She scooted back, up onto the couch.