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Chapter Eleven

Ash came downstairs with her nose in her book and narrowly avoided tripping over the cat, which was lying on the third stair from the bottom.

"Jesus Christ," she said. "I thought you'd been evicted."

"I told you," said George. "It's his home. He doesn't want to leave. Besides, you can't have a cat called Fabio anywhere other than a romance bookshop, can you?"

"He's going to have to get used to being elsewhere," Ash said crisply. She eyed George. "You're here early."

"It's almost half past nine," he said. "What are you reading?"

"Nothing."

"Is that…" George craned his neck to see. "Huh, A Crown of Hearts and Desires. It was alright, what do you think?"

Ash felt herself blush. "I only took it because I didn't bring a book with me."

"You're a bookseller, at least temporarily," George said. "It's sort of expected that you read the stock. And you didn't answer my question."

"It's alright, I suppose," said Ash, putting the book down.

"A rave review then."

She sighed. "Listen, it's fine. If you want the honest truth, I like the actual story, the plot is sound and I want to know what happens next. It's the romance I'm having a problem with. I just don't believe it, and I think it's ruining the book."

"Fair enough." He walked over to another bookshelf and picked up a book. "Here, try this one when you're done. It might speak to you more."

She looked at the colorful cover and shrugged. "Fine. Now, in terms of what you need to be doing today, I want a full stock-take so I know what's on hand and, obviously, you'll be dealing with the customers."

"Um, yeah, that's not going to work."

"And why not?" asked Ash. She'd turned on the computer already and was searching for genealogy websites.

"Because most of our stock is downstairs in the cellar and customers tend to be up here. I can't be in two places at once," George said. "So, if you wouldn't mind a suggestion, perhaps I'll go down and do the stock-take and you stay up here and deal with customers."

Ash stared at him, running her tongue over her teeth. "Because you think that my face should be the face that customers see?"

"Unless you're planning on hiring more staff," said George. "Or you magically know how to run a stock-check in a bookshop." He considered her for a moment. "And you don't have a bad face, at least you don't when you smile, which I've seen you do precisely once since you've arrived."

"Is cheek all a part of the service, or am I supposed to pay you extra for that?"

"I'll bill you," he said. "And Pen thinks you've got a nice face, just by the way."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing," George said hurriedly, blushing a little. "Listen, it's Monday morning, the shop's going to be quiet, you're not likely to have to deal with many people. And if you get stuck, then just shout down to the cellar and I'll come up and help you."

"Fine," Ash said, her attention taken up by the list of results on the screen in front of her. "I suppose that'll have to do."

George disappeared down to the cellar and as it turned out, he was completely correct. Not a single person came in all morning, leaving Ash free to do all the genealogical research that she wanted. Not that she turned up much.

She really needed to talk to her mother, she decided over lunch. Not that that was going to happen any time soon.

IN FACT, IT wasn't until much later that anyone came to the shop at all. George had left for the day, having done part of a stock-check and some of the online orders. Ash was about to take herself out for a walk, and was searching for the cat so that she could deposit him at the bakery next door on her way, when someone tried the shop door handle.

"We're closed," she shouted, ducking behind a shelf to see if the damn creature was hiding there.

Whoever it was knocked once and then twice. Ash gritted her teeth. She could make a solid guess who was going to be there. It had to be Pen, with her annoying smile and delicious biscuits. Maybe even a cake this time.

Ash's stomach rumbled with hunger. "No," she said to herself. "I'm not doing this." If she ignored the knock for long enough, Pen would go away.

She stumbled out from behind the shelf and then spotted the cat on top of another shelf. "There you are," she said.

There was another knock. "Excuse me?" said a voice that wasn't Pen's.

Ash turned around. She could see three clearly defined shapes through the glass door.

"Oh, just open the door," said one shape.

"The sign says closed," said another.

"Yes, closed for customers, but that's obviously not us, is it?" said the first.

Which was about when Ash remembered that the door wasn't locked at all. The handle turned and the three shapes materialized into three people, two women and one man. As they stepped inside, another two people came in behind them.

"Um, excuse me?" Ash said.

"Ah, you must be the new owner," said one of the women. "We're so glad you're here." She looked around. "Haven't had time to arrange things, have we? Never mind, never mind, I'll get on that. Sarah, can you get the other end of the sofa?"

Another woman came to help and they began shifting the couch.

"No coffee on yet?" asked the man, circling the counter. "I'll get the water heating, shall I?" And he disappeared into the kitchen.

"Excuse me?" Ash said again, louder this time.

"Yes?" asked an older lady that barely came up to Ash's shoulder.

"Who exactly are you all?" asked Ash.

"We're your bookclub, dear," said the woman smiling. "Now, shall we get started?"

Ash looked around, there were now seven people in the shop, plus a man in her kitchen. They vastly outnumbered her. She took a deep breath, then another, and there was only one thing she could think of to do.

"Um, actually, I just have… I just… I'll be one moment," she said, dashing out of the front door.

"Oh, hello," Pen said as Ash pushed into the bakery.

Ash took a millisecond to take things in. This was her first time in the place and it looked clean and smelled good. She was iffy about the weird flowers painted on the window, but all in all, it looked cozy.

"Are you alright?" Pen asked, coming out from behind the counter.

"No," said Ash. "No, not at all. There's a group of people in the shop and they're moving furniture around and making coffee and I don't know who any of them are."

Pen's face wrinkled into a smile. "Oh, you brought the bookclub back, how lovely."

"No, no I didn't. I had nothing to do with this."

"Hmm," said Pen, putting a hand on one hip. "Well, I suppose everyone heard you were here and just assumed that the club would go on as normal."

"Well, it can't," Ash said. "I don't know the first thing about bookclubs."

"I'm sure they'll forgive your inexperience," said Pen. "We're an understanding bunch." She untied her apron. "I've got the book around here somewhere, it was a nice little one this time." She started to hunt behind the counter.

"No," Ash said. "You don't understand. They have to leave."

Pen popped her head up. "No, no, that's a terrible idea. You'll have all sorts of gossip if that happens. And people will start avoiding the shop, that's the last thing you need."

Which was a fair point. And left Ash with only one choice. She cleared her throat. "I, um, I don't suppose…" She trailed off because she really didn't want to ask for this, she didn't want to be indebted in the slightest.

"Give me two minutes," Pen grinned. "I'll bring some buns too, that'll keep them too busy eating to talk much."

Ash felt her chest relax a little. She breathed out and her muscles unwound. She didn't even complain when Pen linked an arm through her own and practically escorted her into her own shop. Almost her own shop.

THE COUCH was back under the window and the coffee cups were up-ended on the draining board by the sink. Ash had even ensured that the bookclub's next read was the book she was currently reading. That way if George couldn't come in to take control of matters at least she wouldn't have to ask for too much help.

Not that she had any intention of actually running a bookclub. She did want to keep the business viable though.

"There, that wasn't too bad, was it?" beamed Pen, draping her tea towel over the back of one of the kitchen chairs. "Although it might have been a bit better if you hadn't been glowering at everyone from behind your computer."

"I was going about my own business," said Ash. "And I wasn't glowering."

"Mmm, well, you might want to work on that a little bit," Pen said. She paused as though waiting for something. Apparently, whatever she was waiting for didn't appear, because after a couple of moments, she said: "So, I'll be off then."

"Right," Ash said, wondering if it was too late for a walk on the beach now.

Pen cleared her throat. "I'll, um, get going."

"Right," Ash said again. Then she thought of something. "Take the cat."

But Pen was still hesitating.

"What?" Ash asked, anxious to get on with her evening.

"Um, nothing you want to say?" Pen asked, lifting her eyebrows suggestively.

Pen liked her face. Ash just remembered that, remembered George saying it and then dismissing it. What did that mean? Liking someone's face? As far as Ash was concerned her face was neither likable nor unlikable. Maybe that was what Pen was waiting for, some kind of… face appreciation?

"A thank you wouldn't go amiss," Pen said finally.

Ash once again felt her chest loosen and her breath come easier. "Oh, right, yes, obviously. Sorry, I was distracted. Thank you. Your help was appreciated."

Now was when Pen would ask for something in return, Ash was sure. She just hoped it had nothing to do with liking faces. Or cats.

But Pen simply smiled. "You're very welcome," she said as she scooped Fabio up off the kitchen table and let herself out.

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