Page 17 of The Breakup Bookshop

‘You were mature. The big city girl who swanned in and out every summer and didn’t care about being away from your parents. We were in awe of you.’

I throw my head back, a loud laugh escaping my lips, as Donna steadies my head back into position.

‘I was in awe of you and Elle! You both knew everything that was going on in the village and you were so close. I was lucky you let me be the third wheel.’

Donna snorts. ‘The third super cool wheel who arrived with highlights in her hair when she was fifteen! I begged my mum for highlights after you left that summer, but she said I had to wait until I was at least sixteen. I genuinely think your hair made me realize I wanted to be a hairdresser. I remember thinking you looked amazing. The boys all drooled over you too.’

‘I doubt that. I was always terrified of the boys. There seemed to be so many of them swarming around like bees on their bikes. I’ve always been much more of a girls’ girl.’

Unlike my London bestie.

I keep the thought to myself.

‘Girl, same,’ she says, her eyes serious as she snips at my hair. ‘I’m much happier without Lewis. Really, I am. I love working here and being my own boss. It’s a vibe, you know? Plus, we hear it all in here – breakups, affairs, tragic love stories. It’s usually people gossiping about other people’s misfortunes, rather than coming straight from the horse’s mouth. They wait till after the storm has passed, then come in for their new look.’

‘No way,’ I say. ‘Affairs and tragedies in Ullapool? I thought this place would be peace and harmony after the city.’

Donna shakes her head. Her expression softens and her voice shakes as she says, ‘You wouldn’t believe half the stuff that goes on around here. It’s a very supportive community, though. When Mum died last year, you couldn’t move in this shop for condolence flowers. It turned into a florist’s overnight.’

‘That’s lovely,’ I say. ‘That’s exactly why I’m back here, for the community part. London just feels so… soulless in comparison.’

‘We have plenty of soul here. And yes, it was Mum rather than Lewis that brought on the balayage, by the way. Lewis was barely worth a fringe,’ she explains, flicking her glossy locks. ‘On the day of her funeral, everyone lined the streets as the coffin drove past. The bakery that she worked in for more than twenty-five years closed for a whole week as a mark of respect. Then, as the week progressed, everyone worried that the bakery might lose out on too much money. So, as soon as it reopened, people flocked from around the village to help them out. They were completely sold out of stock by midday.’

‘Your mum must have been very loved by the village. To have had such an impact.’

Donna’s eyes shine again as she nods, lost in thought for a moment, before adding, ‘It’s funny how quickly life moves on, though, and everything is supposed to go back to normal. I want to talk about her now more than ever, but no one ever asks about her and it’s hard when you don’t have the space to do it. I just don’t want to forget her, you know?’

I nod. ‘Of course.’

She purses her lips and lets out a long sigh. ‘Anyway, silly me going on and on about it when you just want to have a nice chat and get your layers in. Sorry, Ava.’

‘Donna, seriously, I’d love to chat more about your mum. Now, or any time.’

I mean it. I remember feeling the same when Granny died, wondering why my parents stopped talking about her. I wanted to scream from the rooftops how much I missed her advice, her warm hugs in the summer and our frequent phone calls throughout the year. The silence was too much. I wished I had someone to talk to about it; somewhere I couldgoto meet people who felt the same as me. When I started university, I heard about a ‘death cafe’ where you could talk about your lost loved ones, but I never had the guts to go. It sounded morbid, for a start, and I was paranoid everyone would think my grief ship should have sailed by then.

Judging by Donna’s pensive expression and sad brown eyes, I see that she feels the same.

She coughs and nods. ‘Thank you. I might take you up on that.’

‘Please do.’

‘Anyway, did you make up with Rory?’

‘Not likely. I last saw him through the hole in the wall he still has to fix.’

‘Maybe he was trying to make that hole surreptitiously,’ she suggests. ‘So he could spy on you.’

‘That would be a) creepy and b) illegal.’

‘He’s not that kind of guy, don’t worry.’

‘Well, if Iammurdered in my sleep, he’ll be suspect number one. I don’t think anyone’s ever taken such an instant disliking to me. Did you know he wanted to buy the bookshop? Do you think that’s it? Because it’s just business, it’s not personal. I had no idea he existed.’

Donna shakes her head. ‘Yes, I did, but he won’t be holding a grudge because of that, don’t worry. Rory comes from a big family – he’s the youngest of eight children – so he’s used to fighting it out for what he wants. They’ve all buggered off to live in other places – at least one of them lives in Australia and I’m sure some of the others are abroad too. His mum and dad are in Edinburgh, helping his sister who’s just had a baby. He’s the last man standing here to take care of the family business.’

‘Lucky him, having a business handed to him on a plate,’ I sniff. ‘While I’m killing myself to try to fix mine up. You don’t happen to know a good accountant, do you? I’ve been trying to work things out on my own, but I need help.’

‘Oh, you need Eilidh. She does all my accounting.’