Chapter 29

Chapter Twenty-Nine

‘Have we emailed the invites for Blair's book signing?' Quinn asked upon returning from his father's grave.

‘Uh … don't think so,' Daniel said.

‘It's tomorrow!'

‘Yeah, I thought maybe word of mouth…'

‘All good. I'll get on it.' Quinn turned to the computer. ‘Is it worth ordering stock in now? Too late for it to be delivered.'

‘You make the call.'

‘You seem down today, Daniel. All okay?'

‘Hm? Oh, yeah, fine,' Daniel said, his voice low.

Quinn would have tied up any loose ends way before this. The winter Hay festival had already ended, and by this time, Quinn's shop had mounted a healthy amount of profit to see him through the quiet winter months of January and February. This time of year, for Quinn, usually involved selling last minute gifts, and he could handle that.

It gave him time to plan his own Christmas, start unwinding, and enjoy the season like the rest of the townsfolk of Hay.

This year was, of course, very different.

His shop was stumbling on a tightrope. And he'd never hosted a protest, two author signings, and a Christmas party on the week of Christmas before.

Well, maybe only one author signing.

Last night, at Hermione's home, in Noah's childhood bedroom, everything had changed. Now Quinn was certain that Noah had feelings for him.

He couldn't believe it, but unless he'd misread the situation, they almost kissed.

And he felt awful about it.

How could he have let that almost kiss happen, knowing that Noah's boyfriend was in the same house, in the kitchen playing happy families with Noah's mother and Quinn's now-client.

Yes, client. Hermione had sent through the contract and Quinn had signed it and sent it back, promising to get to work as soon as possible. He'd hoped that today he would have been able to start, but he hadn't found the time, because he'd been fretting about the shop, the protest, the party…

And now Noah.

Would Noah still sign books?

Would Noah even want to see him again?

Was Noah feeling that heavy, gut-twisting guilt that Quinn was feeling? The type of guilt that made him not want to eat, go on hunger strike, change his name, and leave the country?

Noah had been worse. Hadn't he?

Noah had the boyfriend. Quinn didn't.

But if Noah had kissed him, Quinn would not have stopped him.

No, he wouldn't, and that made him just as bad.

His thoughts turned to what would have happened if he'd kissed Noah. Would they have kissed again? And then harder, with hunger? Would they have ended up on Noah's bed, stripped down to nothing, kissed and then…?

No, of course not.

But Quinn couldn't be so sure.

Never had he felt so conflicted, so confused, over one man. He had lost the map to navigate Noah, and now he was adrift.

Despite everything, he wanted it to happen once more.

The hope of Matty not being as perfect as he first thought, that maybe there was trouble brewing between them, didn't fill him with pleasure. Not at all. An upset Noah wasn't what he wanted. Quinn worried about him and wanted to help.

He also wanted to know there might be a chance to be Noah's.

Stupid, really. Because even if Noah broke up with Matty, he wouldn't rush into a relationship with Quinn.

And who even said a relationship would work? Noah wanted London. Quinn wanted Hay.

‘I'm thinking of printing posters about the protest, too,' Quinn said to Daniel. ‘I've made something up to put around town. Mind printing it for me?'

‘Oh, yeah, sure.'

Quinn watched him open the file, his shoulders slumped. Right now, he didn't have the time, but he felt as though he needed to speak with Daniel. Maybe he'd upset him. Maybe it was the Christmas blues.

Quinn turned to the email left in his drafts this morning. An email confirming if Noah could sign his books on Wednesday.

Hey Noah,

Great seeing you recently. Just confirming that you are happy to attend and sign some books here on Wednesday. If so, I can send out the invites and start advertising it. I'm sure plenty of people will come by to see you!

Speak soon,

Quinn x

He re-read the email not once, but thrice. He felt like an editor at work, overanalysing everything he typed, wondering if he needed to tweak something here or there. Was it too casual? Too ‘I don't care'? Was he breezy like Monica Geller?

‘Recently' was fine, wasn't it? How else could he say ‘it was great to almost kiss you last night and now I feel awful' without saying that? Yes, ‘recently' worked.

The kiss. The X. Too much? Was an X sign-off too soon after what almost transpired between them? The floating X was like a tease, hinting at what could have been. Should he go full Gossip Girl and add xoxo?

Deciding that he was no Dan Humphrey, he erased the x, re-reading the email one more time.

Then he sent it, wondering if they could go on and pretend nothing had almost happened between them.

A few seconds later, an email swooped into his inbox, one that he couldn't ignore.

Noah.

Confirming the signing for Wednesday was ‘perfect', and that he ‘couldn't wait'. And there, at the end of the email, was a kiss.

An X, to be more specific, but a kiss!

The almost kiss, haunting them like the ghost of Christmas past. Only this was a digital kiss, and he'd sent it, and that meant it happened.

They had kissed!

Virtually!

Quinn caught himself smiling, and a customer thought he was smiling at them, so he went with it, taking a sale of one hundred pounds. ‘I travelled from north Wales for this when I heard about the shop. You're not closing, are you?'

‘We're doing everything we can to save it in such a short amount of time,' Quinn said, using the words he gave to anyone who asked. Which was everyone. Which was exhausting, but fine because they cared. And they knew he cared.

‘Ofnadwy!' they said, using the Welsh word for terrible, and Quinn agreed. It was very ofnadwy.

With confirmation of both Blair and Noah, on two consecutive days, Quinn printed posters and plastered them on the window of his shop. Daniel came back from putting up posters about the protest with snow in his hair. Quinn tacked the remaining posters to the bookshelves so that the influx of customers would not miss the date and time, as well as who would sign what. He then turned to the digital world, posting the details on all of his social media pages. And each time, he enjoyed looking at the image of Noah, with that commanding stare of his.

Turns out, both Blair and Noah beat him to the punch, already tweeting that they would sign copies of their books in Kings & Queens. Quinn noticed that there was more excitement for Noah than Blair and his almost ten-year-old book. It was too late to order the children's copies now.

That didn't matter. Both of them had shown up. Both of them were helping in the best possible way.

The door dinged and Ivy came in, wearing a long parka coat.

‘I got your invites.' Ivy held up her phone. ‘Perfect, wonderful. I've already spoken to some locals and they're happy to hang up some flyers or posters to help spread the word. Not that we need it. The press wants to come to the protest.'

‘Ivy, none of this would have happened without you.'

‘We're not going down without a fight!'

There'd been no word on whether Harold would still proceed with the eviction of Quinn, and Quinn didn't expect any. It seemed Harold would not bow to the mounting pressure being put upon him. Disappointment flooded through Quinn every time he thought of his stepdad and his decision, and the floodgates burst when he thought of his mother, allowing such a thing to happen.

‘You look different.' Ivy observed him like he was something she'd never seen before. ‘Your aura has changed.'

Quinn looked around him, as if he could see such a thing. ‘Has it? Does it compliment my skin tone?'

‘It does,' Ivy said. ‘It's a shade of pink. You're giving off a loving vibe, but it's not happy.'

Ivy's accuracy struck him. ‘A lot has happened over the weekend.'

‘Get the kettle on and tell me everything.' Ivy turned to Daniel. ‘And your aura. You seem … stressed? No, confused.'

‘Don't read my aura,' Daniel said, half-joking.

‘Sorry,' Ivy said.

‘Enjoy your teas.'

‘Don't want to join us?'

‘I'm good, I think,' Daniel said.

‘Well, I'll tell you what. I'm going to close early. Lots happening. Go get some you time, Daniel. I think you need it.'

Daniel sighed. ‘Thanks, Quinn. I appreciate it.'

Daniel got his coat and headed to the door, turning the open sign to closed. Quinn followed him. ‘Daniel, I mean it. If you need to talk, I'm here for you.'

Daniel sighed. ‘Maybe we can talk once all of this has blown over?'

‘Whenever you're ready.'

‘Cheers, Quinn.'

Quinn locked the doors, made the teas, and filled Ivy in on everything from Gordon to the shop.

‘So, Harold is Scrooge,' Ivy said, ‘and Gordon is a good guy?'

‘I'm not sure if he is a good guy,' Quinn said. ‘But he's better than we thought.'

‘I think we can work on him.' Ivy tapped her fingers together, like an evil villain hatching up a scheme. ‘We can get him on our side.'

Quinn loaded up more posters on his screen and hit print.

‘I've never spoken to him like that before. It made a change. He's human.'

‘Shocker.'

The final posters were printed, and Quinn handed them to Ivy.

‘There's more, though,' Ivy said. ‘I did a tarot reading before I came and I drew the eight of cups.'

‘Meaning?'

‘Meaning that you're feeling lost and confused,' Ivy said. ‘There seems to be a lot of illusions, maybe even options for you, and you're not sure what is best for you.'

Quinn, thinking of Noah, of Hermione, of his future and the shop, dismissed this with a wave of his hand.

‘I'm not sure about that.'

‘My point exactly.' Ivy smiled. ‘What's troubling you?'

Quinn sighed, falling into the armchair behind his desk, his safe place.

He recounted everything. From the meal, to Matty being a thing, to Noah being in front of him and disappearing like a mirage.

Ivy, with every detail, gasped and shook her head. She was a good person to tell a story to.

‘Well, what happened when Matty entered the room?'

‘He told me I had to leave,' Quinn said, recalling that look on Matty's face, one of frozen shock. ‘But not in a Peggy Mitchell get out of my pub way – in a passive aggressive way. Something I think he's rather good at.'

Ivy reached into her handbag, a Louis Vuitton, which looked immaculate. She took out a pack of cards, which Quinn thought were regular playing cards until she shuffled them.

‘We need clarity.'

She drew out three cards, each one looking well used and ever so slightly crumpled. One card was called the two of cups, another ominously called the devil, and a third called, even more dangerously, the lovers.

‘You set this up,' Quinn said.

‘Not at all!' Ivy looked shocked. ‘The cards never lie, Quinn, and these make so much sense with what you've told me.'

‘What do they say, then?'

Ivy paused, looking at the cards, lost in thought. Quinn, with every second of spreading silence, got nervous. He looked at the stack of cards still in Ivy's hand, wondering what else might come out of them. Destruction? A broken heart? Death itself?

‘We're looking at a partnership here.' Ivy pointed at the card with two cups, and the two androgynous people standing close to one another, both holding a goblet. They looked like they had been caught mid-moment, like the one that Noah and Quinn had last night. ‘This card talks of harmony, a developing bond and relationship. It's one that is meant to happen, unfolding naturally. But then this…'

She pointed at the devil card, one that depicted two people standing before an imposing figure. It filled Quinn with dread looking at it, and the irony wasn't lost on him that the devil card appeared in the shop that used to be a church.

‘There's a shadow. Something that is being ignored. A problem.' Ivy's brow furrowed. ‘There is something in the way, something that needs working through. You see these two people in front of the devil? They're being kept apart.'

Matty with his handsome face seemed to float between them like a ghostly apparition. No doubt Ivy saw and felt it, too.

‘And then this.' Ivy smiled at the lover's card. Two people, male and female, naked, stood together. The devil was absent, and in his dark place grew trees and flowers. ‘The lovers. Tells us everything we need to know. Remove the obstacle, the block…' She slid the devil card away and drew the two remaining cards together. ‘And these two people survive together.'

Quinn looked at the cards and was reminded of Adam and Eve, thinking that maybe he would be Adam and Noah could be Eve. Or Steve.

‘Could it also mean the relationship I have with Hermione?'

Ivy shook her head. ‘No. Not at all. I think this is very clear about what it's about. Don't you?'

‘They're just cards,' Quinn said. ‘They can't tell me what's going on.'

Ivy didn't look offended. Instead, as she packed away her cards, dropping the deck into a silk pouch, she looked amused. ‘I can read you, Quinn. You don't have to pretend with me.'

Quinn smiled, but he knew Ivy was right. It scared him how accurate the reading was. How could three cards confuse him yet offer him a glimmer of hope? Because as Ivy had read the lovers to him, it had given him an expectation. The flame inside him, stamped out by Matty, began to blaze again. All because Noah sent that X in his email. Now they burned together as two lovers.

The devil, on the other hand? Well, the sooner he was removed, the better.