The Bookshop of New Beginnings: Heart-warming, uplifting – a perfect feel good read!. Jen Mouat

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СКАЧАТЬ href="#ulink_cd5da992-85c7-5c2e-9853-01aaf437531b">Chapter Six

      Kate washed her face in the bathroom sink. Blinking, she blotted her face on a towel and peered at her reflection in the mirror. Her eyes were more green than blue in the half-light, her hair was scraped back from her face and her skin, washed clean of make-up, made her seem younger, despite the blurring of fatigue. She swayed as she gripped the edge of the porcelain sink and stared, seeing herself as a child again, when coming here had felt like stepping into a fairy-tale world.

      She wondered what Ben was doing. Would she be replaced? They had parted on awkward, ambiguous terms, neither making any promises, despite the recent introduction to his parents and his casual mentions of marriage – too offhand to ever be considered a real proposal.

      Kate wasn’t under any illusions about Ben. It had begun as physical desire, nothing more; then had morphed into something neither of them felt able to define. Lately it had felt like they were travelling down well-worn patterns, transforming the relationship into something serious by dint of time served and convenience. Kate was attractive, successful – both decorative and engaging on his arm at parties: the perfect wife for a city boy with old money and its accompanying reputation to uphold. And Ben was gorgeous, solicitous, good company. And rich.

      But it probably wasn’t love, and Kate didn’t feel certain that Ben would wait six days for her, let alone six weeks, or six months, or however long she stayed away.

      Ben had been unattainable when Kate snagged him; there was a certain thrill in the hunt and acquisition of such a man. And he lingered in her thoughts now, his slow, sexy smile reaching out to taunt and tease across oceans. She definitely still wanted him.

      Her fingers itched to reach for her phone and check her email. If he has sent me a message it means he loves me, he is waiting for me. I will go home immediately, she decided.

      But she was home already, so how could she?

      Kate grimaced at herself in the mirror. Being here had reminded her of a more primal, urgent sort of love. With Dan she had felt the throes of schoolgirl infatuation; with Luke Ross she had fallen fast and hard.

      She didn’t feel comfortable with the possibility that she was succumbing to the allure of marriage for money, for practicality – not wanting to struggle as she had all through her childhood. But did she really love Ben? She wasn’t sure.

      Financial security and the promise of a certain kind of life were not good enough reasons.

      Kate threw a robe over her vest and shorts and padded barefoot across the quiet hall to her bedroom. After closing the door softly behind her, she sat on the bed, curled her legs beneath her and reached for her iPhone, cursing her eagerness and the anticipatory flutter in her belly.

      A message from Ben. Her fingers trembled and tripped over themselves, fumbling as the message was revealed. Kate, baby, I fucking miss you. B.

      That was all. Kate hated pet names, especially baby, as well Ben knew. And was that really all he had to say to her? The man who had lavished her with champagne and diamonds and made her feel safe.

      The message was inadequate and infuriating.

      Ben’s world would continue without Kate in it: working hard and playing hard. He loved to bitch about how stressful his job was, but he wasn’t happy without the pressure. He needed to feel important; if there had been a major fault line running through their relationship, it was that Kate wasn’t needy enough for Ben’s liking. Too independent for his taste. He’d asked her not to leave, but now what had seemed like an entreaty felt more like a threat.

      For the last year, being Ben’s girlfriend had consumed her. All of her friends had been under Ben’s spell, encouraging the match, and there had been no one – no Emily – to point out the hard truths: that Ben was arrogant, emotionally illiterate, egotistical. Of course he was hot, he could make her feel like the only person in his universe with just a glance. But he could charm anyone thus; he wouldn’t be pining for her, or drowning his sorrows alone. Ben would be indulging in a little gentle flirtation along with his martinis, despite his reluctant concession to long-distance love.

      ‘I won’t have much time to talk to you,’ he had warned.

      Kate, her ire up, had answered smartly, ‘No change there, then.’ Their parting had not been the gushing, embracing, kissing airport spectacle she had envisaged. Ben had had an important meeting to go to and said a hasty goodbye in the cab and she had wandered disconsolately into the terminal alone.

      Kate leaned over and set the phone on the bedside table. She welcomed the return of her natural cynicism; yes, he misses me in his bed, keeping his sheets warm.

      Not a good enough reason either – sex. She slid deeper beneath the covers and faced the fact that their relationship had probably been doomed the moment she set foot on that plane. She turned on her side and closed her eyes, seeking oblivion, but she sensed that sleep, jet lag or no, was going to be a long time coming.

      In the darkness the face she saw was not Ben’s, but an amalgam of two, long relegated to the very depths of her mind: Luke who had stolen her heart and broken it; and Dan, whose heart she had broken in turn.

      *

      The next morning, Kate stood before the contents of her suitcase, dressed in her underwear, and sighed. She had a suitcase full of beautiful clothes but none of them were right for Bluebell Bank. Designer labels, expensive fabrics – they were fine for New York, but here they seemed like artifice, reminding her of just how comprehensive a metamorphosis she had managed.

      Standing clothes-less, homeless and directionless in front of her shell case – spilling its sophisticated contents onto the bed – Kate was caught between two homes, two identities.

      She dug around in her case for the plainest thing she could find – a long white vest top – and tugged over her head. She picked up last night’s jeans and discarded them. Outside the sky was blue, with the promise of summer warmth. Kate opened the bedroom door and yelled for Em.

      Emily emerged from her room down the hallway, clutching a bath towel to her chest. Wet corkscrew curls spiralled on her shoulders. She looked startled. ‘What’s wrong?’

      ‘Nothing. I was just wondering if you have a pair of shorts I could borrow?’

      Emily’s eyebrows shot upwards. ‘Me?’

      ‘Yes, it looks like it might be hot today and I didn’t bring any.’

      Emily screwed up her face in doubt. ‘I guess.’ She whisked back into the bedroom and reappeared a few moments later with a pair of navy cargo shorts which she tossed to Kate. ‘They’re kind of plain but the only other kind I have are towelling ones and they only look right on the beach.’

      Kate caught the shorts in one hand. She didn’t look at them. ‘They’re great.’

      ‘Right.’ Emily looked and sounded unconvinced, but her eyes sparked with inspiration as she leaned past Kate to peep into the bedroom, where Kate’s suitcase sat on the bed: a treasure chest spilling out riches. ‘I don’t suppose I could borrow something of yours, could I?’

      Kate opened her mouth and swallowed her words just in time. She didn’t want to offend Emily, but ever since they had reached puberty they had been blessed with quite different body shapes. Emily seemed to wake one morning with СКАЧАТЬ