Chapter Sixteen

Pen could hear the sound of the shower when she woke up. She could still hear it after breakfast. In the end, she splashed water on her face from the kitchen sink before hurrying downstairs to get the oven heated and her day started.

The morning was bright and cool and Pen tried to be her normal jolly self. She whistled as she moved sacks of flour, hummed cheerfully as she pulled frozen goods out of the freezer. But a little tiny piece of her was slightly dented.

For a minute there, walking along the beach last night, she'd actually thought that she'd cracked Ash's hard shell. But obviously she'd done no more than scratch it and Ash was probably already in the process of repainting.

She sighed. Ash truly wasn't interested in any kind of relationship, or was too damaged to accept any kind of friendship, or too stubborn, or too cold, or whatever her reasons were. And maybe, just maybe, it was time to leave her alone, to stop trying. You couldn't force someone to be friends with you.

Besides, she'd probably be gone soon. At least if all went to plan. Pen tried not to think about doing all the work of presenting a plan to the council for buying the bookshop. She barely had time to think as it was.

By the time Lucy came downstairs, Pen had very nearly talked herself into a funk. Then she turned around to see Lucy wearing an old wrap skirt of hers that could just about be wrapped around her tiny waist three times and yet still only came half way down her thigh.

"You look like some kind of sixties mummy," she cackled.

Lucy stuck her tongue out. "You said I could borrow what I like, and I like this."

"I haven't worn that for years," said Pen, wiping her eyes. "You're welcome to keep it, if you like."

Lucy grinned for a second, then sighed. "Actually, I probably shouldn't. I mean, I'm accepting a lot from you as it is."

"You're accepting a roof over your head and a decent wage, and those things should be rights, not privileges," Pen said stoutly. "Don't ever be ashamed of accepting what's your due."

"Yes, but Pen, you can't do all this alone. I mean—"

"I won't be. We're going to go over to the council building tomorrow and we'll find out what kind of help is available for you then. And I've got business over there too, so we'll be killing two birds with one stone."

"What kind of business?" Lucy asked, picking up a hot croissant off a baking tray. "Ow!"

"Mmm, lesson number one of working in a bakery, things that just came out of the oven are hot," laughed Pen. "Come on, you can help me get this lot on the shelves and then we'll test out your coffee skills. The morning rush'll be in before you know it."

As they were sliding rolls onto trays in the bakery, George came bustling in.

"Morning," Pen said, smiling. "Coffee?"

"Depends," said George, eyeing Lucy. "Am I to be poisoned again by your apprentice, or are you making it?"

"My coffee is delicious," Lucy said, putting hands on her hips. "You said so yourself yesterday."

"Only because you force fed me eight cups and I was in danger of dying from caffeine poisoning," George said.

Lucy raised an eyebrow.

"Fine, fine," he said hurriedly. "Beggars can't be choosers. Two coffees and make them strong ones, Her Royal Highness is in quite a mood this morning."

"The queen?" Lucy asked, getting to-go cups.

"Ash, my boss, the woman who owns the bookshop next door." George winked at Lucy. "And Pen's potential soul-mate, the Darcy to her Elizabeth, the Romeo to her Juliet, the Marc Antony to her Cleopatra, the—"

"The Moriarty to my Holmes, the Joker to my Batman, the… I've run out of rivalries," Pen said.

"Oh," said George. "That's why she's in a mood then, is it? The two of you have had a bust up?"

"We haven't," said Pen. "If only because there was nothing there in the first place to break. But she did make it quite clear last night that she really doesn't want to help me or be involved in things. So…"

George rolled his eyes. "So what? Since when has that stopped you? You know she's just thick skinned or tough shelled or whatever it is. You never give up, Pen."

"Then maybe it's time I learned a lesson. The woman isn't even interested in being friends with me, let alone anything else."

"She didn't seem terribly friendly," Lucy said thoughtfully. "But then she did throw me out quite nicely and she gave me a tenner too. So she's not all bad."

"And she's definitely out of sorts this morning, so maybe she regrets being sharp with you," put in George.

"Maybe," said Pen as Lucy handed George his coffees.

"Alright, I'd better get back to it," George said. "I'll see you later for some lunch."

He disappeared back off to the bookshop and Lucy jumped to close the door before Fabio could sneak back out again. Bending, she picked up the furry bundle who protested with a loud meow and then settled into her arms.

"You shouldn't worry about it," she said.

"Worry about what?" asked Pen, forming croissants into neat lines on their tray.

"Ash," Lucy said. She put Fabio down and shooed him back toward the kitchen. "It's probably nothing personal. It's just… some people find it hard to accept help or even friendship. Those people take longer to crack, but they tend to be worth it."

"Mmm," said Pen because Ash was an ostrich egg at this point.

"If you like her, you should try harder but not so hard."

"Lovely and clear that," Pen said, chuckling.

"I mean, if you think she's nice you shouldn't just give up. But also, maybe, you could be… I don't know, a bit more respectful of the fact that she finds it hard to get close to people, that's all. We're all different, we can't all be paragons of virtue like you are."

"I'm no paragon of virtue," Pen said.

"Are you not?" asked Lucy.

"Definitely not. I shoplifted once when I was a child and I've smoked my share of the green stuff and…" Pen trailed off trying to think of other bad things she'd done.

"See?" Lucy laughed. "You're a lovely person, Pen. But I can see how somebody who's a bit cooler, a bit more reserved, might find you a bit much, a bit far outside of their experience. Do you see what I'm saying?"

"You're saying that I need to back off a bit," Pen said.

"Exactly."

"Alright," said Pen. After all, it couldn't hurt. "I'll steer clear of the bookshop today and I won't take her any biscuits until tomorrow afternoon."

"Very stand-offish," agreed Lucy. "Is she really your soul-mate?"

Pen laughed again. "That was just George being over the top. He spends all day around romance novels, he can't help it."

"If you buy the shop then you'll be around romance novels all day," Lucy said. "And, presumably, Ash will move away."

"Mmm, that is the downside," agreed Pen, who actually really hadn't thought this through.

"Which seems like a shame," said Lucy, neatly slicing some bread for sandwiches. "I mean, I think she's alright."

"Alright? High praise."

Lucy shrugged. "She could have been nastier to me in the shop, plenty of others were. She could have called the police to have me thrown out. She could have told me how bad I smelled. She didn't do any of those things. She politely told me I had to go and then handed me some money that she could see I badly needed. So maybe she's not as cold and unfeeling as she comes across."

"Post," Billy said, pushing open the door.

Lucy got to it before Pen.

"What's all this?" said Billy. "A new employee?"

"One who makes excellent coffee," Lucy said with a grin, still looking at the letters Billy had handed her.

"I'll take those," Pen said, sliding the post out of her hand. "And if you're so cocky about those coffee skills, you'd best get to making Billy one or he'll think you're full of hot air." She tucked the letters safely into her skirt pocket and hoped that Lucy hadn't seen too much.

"Happy to," chirped Lucy.

"So, the whole town's talking about this bookshop business," Billy said, leaning on the counter as Lucy worked. "Sounds like you're going to save us all from… well, I'm not sure? Save us all from big book franchises maybe?"

"I'm not saving anything," Pen said, thinking about the presentation she was going to have to make, about how persuasive she was going to have to be. "But the shop is a part of town and I don't see why it shouldn't stay. We get enough tourist business during the summer."

"Yeah, but the government owning private businesses and shops, isn't that just communism?" Billy asked, taking a coffee from Lucy.

Pen frowned. "Is it?" she asked unsurely.

"Dunno," Billy said. "Maybe. Sounds a bit fishy to me at any rate. Mind you, I'd definitely prefer the shop to go to someone we know rather than a stranger."

"It's currently in the hands of a stranger," Lucy pointed out.

Billy scratched his head. "True, true. But then… she did give me a two pound tip yesterday."

"Why?" asked Pen.

"Dunno," said Billy again. "Something about delivering mail to her hand and not just leaving it with her neighbors?"

"Must be a London thing," said Pen.

"Could be," Billy agreed. "Alright, I'll be off then. See you later."

"See, even the postman likes her," Lucy said when he was gone. "So Ash can't be that bad. She'll come around."

Pen smiled, she was feeling better than she had earlier that morning anyway. "Well then, let's see if your sandwich making skills are up to scratch, shall we?" she said. "And no more talk of soul-mates."

"Things'll turn out for the best," Lucy said. "I mean, look at me, all warm in a bakery with a job and everything."

"Things always turn out for the best," Pen said with great certainty. It was the one thing she always held onto. But somehow she couldn't see herself hugging Ash ever again and that thought made her sad.