Chapter 24

Chapter Twenty-Four

The crowd poured out of the room, and Quinn and Ivy tidied up after them, throwing away finished drinks, food wrappers, and even a wet tissue. Quinn, holding it with the tip of his fingers, and wondering why anyone might have used a tissue, dropped it into the bin in the kitchen. He tidied away the jars of coffee that someone had found and put a box of Tetley tea bags back in the cupboard.

He turned to leave the kitchen and screamed, seeing a figure cast in shadows in the doorway.

‘Woah, woah.'

A light came on, that horrible offensive fluorescent lighting, the type that made your skin look like melting wax, and Noah was no longer a demon coming to suck him into the underworld, but a demon who came to suck…

Stop it.

‘I preferred you with the lights off.'

‘I've been told that before,' Noah said, then he cleared his throat. ‘Tonight went well.'

‘Blew me away,' Quinn said. ‘So many people turned up. And they all care. They all want to help. Now we just have to make sure they turn up.'

‘Why wouldn't they when I'm involved?' Noah grinned.

‘I'll throw a wet tissue at you.'

‘A wet tissue?'

‘Don't ask,' Quinn said. ‘So, you really want to do a book signing?'

‘If you'll have me.'

Gladly.

‘Yeah, that would be good.'

Better than good.

‘What day will you have me?'

Any day of the week.

Stop it.

‘How about midweek?'

‘I can do midweek.'

‘Me too.'

‘Good.'

‘Cool.'

A silence spread between them until Ivy sang a rendition of ‘Merry Christmas Everyone' in the main hall, the acoustics of the building doing her voice dirty.

They both laughed, but it wasn't cruel. It was a shared appreciation of the moment. Then Noah stepped into the room, and it was like that pesky demon had sucked out the air.

‘Mum is looking forward to talking with you,' Noah said. ‘I wanted her to come tonight, but she couldn't.'

‘It would have been nice,' Quinn said. ‘I haven't had a contract from her yet.'

‘She's still getting it finalised,' Noah said. ‘Hope you're good with selling your soul?'

‘Aw, already sold.'

‘Same.'

A smile; a bond.

‘I imagine you'll be at the house pretty soon. Although now you're going to have a busy week?—'

‘I can still write the book.' Quinn stumbled over his words, fearing his opportunity to get to write Hermione's story was slipping away.

But it wasn't just to write her story. And it wasn't to have a back-up in case his shop disappeared. A small part of him hoped for an excuse to get closer to Noah, to learn about him from a trusted source. He hadn't paid it much thought when he first submitted those chapters, but he knew now, with Noah standing before him, that it'd played a factor in Quinn's decision.

Gosh. Maybe I am that stalker.

‘Of course,' Noah said. ‘Thing is, I was thinking, you know, it might be a week or so before you come back to the house. But why don't you join us this week for dinner? It's a good way to get to know her off the record.'

Did he just ask me to dinner? Off the record?

‘Not a date.' Noah smashed Quinn's dreams.

‘I didn't think…'

‘Oh, right, yes, good.' Noah baulked.

‘Matty.'

‘Matty, yeah.'

‘Yeah.' Quinn faltered.

‘I mean, not that I… You know, it's just… No, research purposes.'

‘Research purposes,' Quinn agreed. Definitely research purposes. ‘I can do that.'

‘Good. Cool.' Noah smiled. ‘Can you do tomorrow evening?'

Quinn wanted to give a definitive answer, but then he thought, no, why should he? Why should he be at Noah's beck and call? Play it cool, right? Isn't that what everyone does? Aloof. Casual.

‘Yes, I can't wait,' Quinn said.

Noah smiled, and then Ivy appeared at the door.

‘I wondered where you got to,' she said, looking from Noah to Quinn. She reached a hand to Noah's cheek, and Quinn had never been more jealous of a hand, or Ivy. Noah didn't flinch from her touch. She pulled a strand of fluff from his cheek. ‘This was stuck to you.'

‘Ah.' Noah looked at the grey fur in Ivy's hands. ‘That's a bit of Mr Lavender. His fur gets everywhere.'

‘Mr Lavender?'

‘Hermione's cat,' Ivy said. ‘I'm always hoovering up his fur.'

The three of them bade each other goodnight, and Quinn headed home, lost in thought.

An evening of research. Research purposes. A talk off the record. How wonderful this week was turning out to be, and it was only Monday. Christmas was fast approaching. Normally, he would go to his mother's. But now, with everything going on, he thought he would need to spend it alone. He wasn't excited about Christmas. Not anymore.

Instead, the protest filled him with excitement. The two author signings. The party.

Oh, one-eyed Jesus, the party!

In all the commotion, he'd forgotten he needed to plan a party. The drag queens were no doubt planning their outfits and makeup, the locals writing their protest signs and then picking out their evening outfits. And him? He was thinking of Hermione, Noah, and the girl band Girls Aloud's television series, Off the Record , which Noah put into his head by the power of association.

As he got to his apartment, recalling a quote from Nadine Coyle and trying to voice his own Irish accent in his head, he allowed his eyes to drift towards the castle that he could see from his living room window. Lights were glowing inside, no doubt the last preparations being made for a public opening.

And then he realised.

His planned protest was on the day of the castle's opening.

Oh, what a bad idea that might be. Would the curiosity of a refurbed heritage site and a much-loved staple piece of Hay distract those willing to protest for his shop's sake?

His phone buzzed. Quinn looked at the screen.

People will protest inside the castle. Two birds with one stone. Save your shop. Appreciate history.

Ivy, her ever more convincing psychic abilities striking again.