Read Online The Secret of Happy Ever After by Lucy Dillon - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Lucy Dillon
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confidence, after Harvey’s subtle chipping away. ‘I’m committed to keeping a local shop open, to be run by local people, selling useful things that people want, instead of letting another of our high street outlets be swallowed up by a phone company, or a coffee chain.’
Rory leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingers like a lanky Bond villain. ‘Well, don’t we all, but Mr Quentin wants it run as a bookshop for at least a year. He dedicated his whole life to bookselling in Longhampton, and he’s adamant that he’d rather see the place empty than let Longhampton lose such a vital cultural resource.’
‘He’d rather see it empty ?’ Michelle couldn’t stop her disbelief bursting out.
Rory actually looked proud of the old man’s mad stance. ‘As it happens, I fully agree with him. A town without a bookshop is a town without a soul.’
‘Is that Shakespeare?’ she enquired, more sarcastically than she meant to.
‘Sir Walter Scott,’ replied Rory, deadpan. ‘No, of course not. It’s just common sense.’
‘I see.’ She folded her arms, annoyed by his attitude. ‘And have you had much interest so far, in running it as a bookshop?’
Rory Stirling paused, then twisted up the corner of his wide mouth. ‘So far I haven’t even advertised it as being available for rent. In fact, apart from me and Mr Quentin, I think you’re the only person who’s even noticed that it’s closed. I’m impressed with your speed off the blocks, Miss Nightingale. No wonder your shop’s such a success if you monitor the rest of the high street so carefully. Or do you have more time on your hands than you’re letting on?’
Michelle kicked herself inwardly. She’d wanted to get in straight away, having thought of nothing else since Anna had mentioned it, and now she looked far too keen. Still, if old Mr Quentin was going to make a big stand about only letting it to another bookseller, it wasn’t as though he’d be inundated with offers.
Rory Stirling was still leaning back in his leather chair, watching her reaction in an annoyingly smug way. Was he teasing her, or was he serious? If Michelle hadn’t wanted the shop so much, she’d have told him where to stick it.
Maybe if I talk to Mr Quentin, she thought. This guy’s never going to put my case properly. Maybe I can persuade him. That nursing home can’t be cheap. He’s going to need all the income he can get.
‘Well, that’s a shame,’ she said, gathering her things together to leave before her face could give her away. ‘I don’t believe it’s viable as a bookshop, and to be honest with you, I doubt anyone with any retail experience will either. But I hope you find someone.’
She stood up, waiting for him to stand up to show her out. After a rude pause, he seemed to register what she was expecting and shoved his chair back, knocking over a stack of files.
‘We’ll find someone,’ he said. ‘It’s a lovely old shop, lots of character. Lots of atmosphere. I’d hate to see Longhampton lose a gem like that. It’s bad enough that the library’s having to cut back.’
Ha, thought Michelle. I was right. Library protester. ‘I suppose if more people had gone to Mr Quentin’s and bought books instead of taking them out of the library, he’d still be open,’ she said airily.
‘That’s not quite the same as . . .’ Rory began, then realised she was joking, sort of. ‘Oh. Touché.’
They stared over the desk, weighing each other up, and Michelle enjoyed a brief moment of triumph, which was lost as soon as she got outside and realised dust from Rory’s filthy office was smeared over her freshly dry-cleaned suit.
The landline rang in the McQueen house just as the film – and Anna and Phil – were reaching an interesting part.
Phil’s lips were nuzzling into the hollow of her neck, the exact spot that melted her insides to liquid, and Anna thought about ignoring the phone, but then she remembered the time she’d done just
Rory leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingers like a lanky Bond villain. ‘Well, don’t we all, but Mr Quentin wants it run as a bookshop for at least a year. He dedicated his whole life to bookselling in Longhampton, and he’s adamant that he’d rather see the place empty than let Longhampton lose such a vital cultural resource.’
‘He’d rather see it empty ?’ Michelle couldn’t stop her disbelief bursting out.
Rory actually looked proud of the old man’s mad stance. ‘As it happens, I fully agree with him. A town without a bookshop is a town without a soul.’
‘Is that Shakespeare?’ she enquired, more sarcastically than she meant to.
‘Sir Walter Scott,’ replied Rory, deadpan. ‘No, of course not. It’s just common sense.’
‘I see.’ She folded her arms, annoyed by his attitude. ‘And have you had much interest so far, in running it as a bookshop?’
Rory Stirling paused, then twisted up the corner of his wide mouth. ‘So far I haven’t even advertised it as being available for rent. In fact, apart from me and Mr Quentin, I think you’re the only person who’s even noticed that it’s closed. I’m impressed with your speed off the blocks, Miss Nightingale. No wonder your shop’s such a success if you monitor the rest of the high street so carefully. Or do you have more time on your hands than you’re letting on?’
Michelle kicked herself inwardly. She’d wanted to get in straight away, having thought of nothing else since Anna had mentioned it, and now she looked far too keen. Still, if old Mr Quentin was going to make a big stand about only letting it to another bookseller, it wasn’t as though he’d be inundated with offers.
Rory Stirling was still leaning back in his leather chair, watching her reaction in an annoyingly smug way. Was he teasing her, or was he serious? If Michelle hadn’t wanted the shop so much, she’d have told him where to stick it.
Maybe if I talk to Mr Quentin, she thought. This guy’s never going to put my case properly. Maybe I can persuade him. That nursing home can’t be cheap. He’s going to need all the income he can get.
‘Well, that’s a shame,’ she said, gathering her things together to leave before her face could give her away. ‘I don’t believe it’s viable as a bookshop, and to be honest with you, I doubt anyone with any retail experience will either. But I hope you find someone.’
She stood up, waiting for him to stand up to show her out. After a rude pause, he seemed to register what she was expecting and shoved his chair back, knocking over a stack of files.
‘We’ll find someone,’ he said. ‘It’s a lovely old shop, lots of character. Lots of atmosphere. I’d hate to see Longhampton lose a gem like that. It’s bad enough that the library’s having to cut back.’
Ha, thought Michelle. I was right. Library protester. ‘I suppose if more people had gone to Mr Quentin’s and bought books instead of taking them out of the library, he’d still be open,’ she said airily.
‘That’s not quite the same as . . .’ Rory began, then realised she was joking, sort of. ‘Oh. Touché.’
They stared over the desk, weighing each other up, and Michelle enjoyed a brief moment of triumph, which was lost as soon as she got outside and realised dust from Rory’s filthy office was smeared over her freshly dry-cleaned suit.
The landline rang in the McQueen house just as the film – and Anna and Phil – were reaching an interesting part.
Phil’s lips were nuzzling into the hollow of her neck, the exact spot that melted her insides to liquid, and Anna thought about ignoring the phone, but then she remembered the time she’d done just
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