This Book Made Me Think of You(68)
“Are you hungry?” he asks, turning back to her.
“Starving,” she admits.
“I picked up some things on the way. I figured you might want to eat. I can leave them for you and head off or…” He coughs, his chocolate and amber eyes flicking up to hers. “I could throw something together while you unpack, if you like?”
In the past she would have refused, wanting to shut the door and have the flat to herself again. But her stomach gives an insistent rumble, and she thinks back to stepping through the arrivals gate and seeing Alfie there waiting for her. The feeling that had flooded her was sheer relief, and she has the same feeling now as she imagines a warm meal that she hasn’t had to cook herself.
“That would be amazing, if you don’t mind. I am dying for a shower. Do you want me to show you where everything is?”
“I’ll figure it out,” he replies, starting to unload his rucksack. “You go and relax.”
Half an hour later Tilly re-emerges, hair damp and body no longer smelling of wet dog, to find Alfie stirring a steaming pan on the stove, humming very quietly under his breath. For a second, she just watches him.
“What can I do to help?”
He turns around, and an unfiltered smile brightens his face. But as quickly as it arrived, his face returns to its usual neutral expression, as though he has tucked a part of himself neatly away in a drawer. Tilly has a sudden and overwhelming urge to pull open the drawer, to see what else might be in there.
“You could chop some veg?”
She nods and takes her spot beside him, their hips almost but not quite touching as they work side by side. The small space fills with the smell of onions and garlic and with a warmth that has been missing for a long time.
October
Book Lane Recommends
Tired of London? Tired of life…
Londoners: The Days and Nights of London Now—As Told by Those Who Love It, Hate It, Live It, Left It, and Long for It, Craig Taylor Swing Time, Zadie Smith Mary Poppins, P. L. Travers A Bear Called Paddington, Michael Bond
Forty-Three
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: London meeting
Dear Tilly,
It was great to run into you in New York recently. I hope you enjoyed the rest of your trip. I am going to be in London next month and would love to meet with you, if you’re available. I know you are taking a career break right now, but I wonder if I might be able to interest you in an opportunity that’s coming up in our team.
How does lunch at The Ivy on 15th November sound?
Hope to see you soon,
Liz
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: London meeting
Dear Liz,
It’s great to hear from you. I did enjoy the rest of my time in New York, thank you. I still can’t believe we ran into each other. I’m glad we did, though, as your email sounds intriguing!
15th November is in my diary. See you then!
Tilly
Tilly slips her phone back into her pocket, heart still racing as she pushes open the door to Book Lane, bringing with her a smell of autumn: dry leaves, woodsmoke, and the pumpkin spice latte that she holds in one hand. The shop window is dressed for autumn, too, bundles of blankets, scattered autumn leaves, and battery-powered candles alongside a comforting selection of books: Agatha Christie and Daphne du Maurier, a ramen cookbook, a few books about knitting, and a selection of classic children’s titles.
“Hi, Tilly!” says Blue from halfway up the shop’s ladder. Prudence waves from where she is chatting with a customer in the fiction section, and Alfie looks up from the counter, where Georgette is sprawled out, his finger marking a page in the large leather-bound book that always resides there. He closes it firmly, his lips stretching into the semblance of a smile. Tilly has a brief flash of memory of the meal they shared together in her flat—the smell of garlic and parsley and the comfort of sitting together on the sofa afterward watching Gilmore Girls after Alfie had confessed he’d never seen it, and Tilly, appalled, insisted they rectify that immediately.
She must have fallen asleep eventually, because when she woke, it was dark, she was covered in a blanket, and there was a note on the coffee table.
Letting myself out. Rest up. See you at the shop soon. A x
Seeing Blue hop down from the ladder and join Alfie at the counter, her shoulder nudging against his, a wave of guilt rolls through Tilly. But Tilly wouldn’t have let Alfie up to her flat if it meant anything more than a friend helping out another friend.
“Here for your October book?” Blue says brightly.
“Yes please. The shop is looking beautiful, by the way.”
“I wanted to add real candles, but Alfie refused. I mean, I know they would technically have been a fire hazard, but they’d have looked so pretty…”
Alfie says nothing, already returning with her book parcel. Prudence joins them at the counter.
“Did you have a nice dinner together?” she asks. So, they must know. Blue doesn’t flinch, her smile steady. “We hear you introduced Alfie to the wonder of Lorelai and Rory.”
“And that he’s since binge-watched about three seasons,” adds Blue, nudging Alfie playfully.