This Book Made Me Think of You(53)

Harper flinches.

“I’m sorry, I…”

“Hold on,” Tilly says, raising a hand as a memory from yesterday enters her mind. “I saw you on a dating app.”

Tilly can see Harper’s throat move as she swallows, looking up.

“You saw that?”

“I saw you on your phone yesterday. If you’re getting married, what were you doing on a dating app?”

Harper bites her lip again.

“I wasn’t on there for myself. I was on there for you.”

“What?”

“I…I set you up a dating profile.” From the waver in Harper’s voice and the way she steps backward slightly, Tilly guesses that she must look as angry as she feels. Her whole body feels rigid.

“Harper! I told you I wasn’t ready to date!”

“I know. But I thought maybe if I found someone lovely and set it all up, you might change your mind.”

“Show me the profile.”

She stretches her hand out, gesturing toward Harper’s phone.

“Tils…”

“It’s my profile, I should be able to see it.”

Harper hesitates before reluctantly handing over her phone. Tilly finds the dating app and opens it to see a profile page with her name, a smiling photo of her from a birthday a few years ago, and a brief description listing her hobbies as “reading, crafting, and meeting new people.”

She spots a new message in the inbox, from someone called harrybaker90, answering a series of questions from tillyreads92—aka Harper—about his profession and where he lives. There are a few other message exchanges like this, and as Tilly reads them, nausea crawls in her stomach.

Harper watches her, clearly waiting for Tilly to say something, but no words come. She leaves the message thread and clicks through the photo gallery, stopping on one particular photo of her standing on a beach with salt-tangled hair and a wide smile.

“You cropped Joe out of this photo.”

“It’s a nice photo of you…”

“Can you not see how disrespectful this is? You’ve altered a photo of me and my dead husband and posted it for anyone to see, without my permission.”

There are tears pooling in Harper’s eyes and her voice is strained.

“I was trying to help…”

“This,” she says, holding the phone up toward Harper, “is not helping. Not only have you completely ignored everything we talked about, but you’ve been impersonating me online. What would have happened if harrybaker90 or any of these other guys bumped into me and recognized me? And I had no clue who they were?”

“OK, maybe I didn’t think of that. But I just thought it might be good for you…”

“No.” Tilly flings the phone toward Harper, who just manages to catch it.

“Tilly, please…”

Harper reaches out for Tilly’s arm, but she shakes her off. Because she needs to get away. Coming here was a mistake. She needs to be at home. She needs Joe.

“Stop. I don’t want to hear it. And I don’t want you to follow me.”

She leaves her sister behind in the moonlit courtyard.





August


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Dear reader, some epistolary novels you must read. Yours truly, Book Lane



84, Charing Cross Road, Helene Hanff Meet Me at the Museum, Anne Youngson Business as Usual, Jane Oliver and Ann Stafford The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society, Mary Ann Shaffer and Annie Barrows





Thirty-Four




Tilly hasn’t spoken to Harper in two weeks. As she walks down the street toward the bookshop, she scrolls through their messages.

I know you said not to follow you but I’m still up if you need me. I hate the thought of having upset you. Let’s talk about this, Tils Xx

Please, Tilly. I know you’re not asleep, I can see the light under your door xx

I can’t believe you LEFT Tilly. When I woke up Constanza told me you’d got a taxi to the airport and are getting an early flight home. I know you’re upset but you didn’t have to leave. Let’s meet up when I get back in a couple of days and we can talk properly. Everyone else says hi and that they were sorry not to get to say goodbye xx

Come on Tilly. You can’t ignore me forever. Let’s just talk about this

The string of messages ends with the words Tilly sent this morning.

I don’t feel ready to talk. I need some space. Please respect that.

There have been no further messages from Harper, but there is one from Joe’s mum.

See you next weekend. Send us your flight details and we can pick you up from the airport. It will be good to see you. And to talk x

Tilly slips her phone back in her bag as she approaches the bookshop, the window full of books piled in a colorful striped deck chair, beach balls dotted about. The sight of the shop calms her, and she has managed to stop shaking by the time she pushes open the door.

Prudence is busy with a customer but gives Tilly a wave. Alfie looks up from behind the counter as she approaches him and smiles. “Tilly!” The enthusiasm in his voice makes Tilly smile too. “How was Italy?” Her smile immediately drops.

“It was beautiful and the pasta making was great. I met some brilliant people. But Harper and I had a huge fight.”