Page 43 of The Breakup Bookshop

He stares back at me, his expression cold. ‘What’s this?’

‘The “thank you” that you wanted.’

I want to storm off, but this is my shop. My launch night. Instead, I pick up a black plastic bin bag for the rubbish and hope he takes the hint.

And he does. Rory is gone.

15

The Next Chapter’s first few days are so busy, I barely have time to sit down. Most evenings, I’m so exhausted that I can’t even lift a book, never mind read one myself.

Locals and tourists alike are drawn in, thanks to my ‘blind-date’ stand that I roll out every morning. Each book is wrapped in brown paper with a few clues on the front – genre, tropes and comparison titles. I picked it up from a London bookshop, so it isn’t an original idea, but everyone here seems to love it.

Margaret is the first to buy one, although she declares she might return it after she’s read it depending on whether she likes it or not. I’ve come to expect nothing less from her. Eilidh picked up a couple when she popped in for a very important finance meeting with me about profit and growth projections, which we managed in between snorts of laughter, before she had to pick up Harry and Caden from school. Jen and Evan come in, hand in hand, and manage to restrain themselves from full-scale snogging in front of me, although I do observe a few pecks and hear an excessive amount of giggling. They leave with a Thai cookbook for Evan’s mum’s birthday.

A large group of American tourists who stop in the village for the day as part of their Highland bus tour practically empty the shelves of blind-date books one afternoon. Two women grab at the same time at a Scottish historical romance novel. Their raised voices float into the shop, but I am too busy at the till serving the rest of their tour group to intervene. Their tour guide begs me to wrap another book for them before they take each other’s eyes out. I dash to my stock collection, seize the brown paper and write up the description as quickly as possible to prevent an American civil war on Scottish soil.

It’s the first time I’ve seen Rory since our salty exchange at the end of the launch. He sticks his head into the shop once the drama is over and the two women are lined up in an orderly fashion to purchase their books. At the sight of him, they fix angelic looks on their faces, blushing and snickering like schoolgirls. When he leaves, they agree that he is the real blind date they pined for. One proclaims that his accent alone makes her feel a flutterdown there, while the other asks if I have any pictures of him for sale that they could take home. A Highland Hunks calendar, perhaps?

Inwardly, I roll my eyes, but I show them my TikTok of Rory. All publicity is good publicity, after all.

Finlay pops his head in later that afternoon, asking if he can bring Piper and a small cocker spaniel called Lacey into the bookshop.

‘Of course,’ I smile, before stroking Lacey’s tummy. Piper jumps up, jealous of my attention to Lacey. I rub them both between the ears, sharing the love.

‘How’s it going?’ he asks, looking around. ‘It looks brilliant in here.’

‘It’s great,’ I say. ‘Very different from London life, but that’s exactly what I came here for.’

‘By the way, I’m sorry you heard all that the other night. He was tired, but it’s no excuse. Has he come in to apologize yet?’

‘Who?’ I ask, knowing full well who he is talking about.

‘Your young Brad Pitt next door,’ he grins.

‘Brad Pitt? More like a Tad Shit. I know he’s your mate, but he doesn’t half blow hot and cold, doesn’t he?’

‘He’s stubborn as a mule. But he has a heart of gold, really. He’s a mate for life, once you get him on side.’

‘Yes, so everyone says.’ I roll my eyes. ‘I don’t have time to stroke his ego all the time. I didn’t miss him off the thank you speech because I wasn’t grateful. I was shaking in my boots at the launch. I hadn’t been that nervous in a long time.’

‘See, youwereanxious. I told him you would be. He thinks you’re some big shot without a nerve in your body.’

‘Well, he’s getting on my last nerve,’ I sigh. ‘He’s labelled me as some sort of flighty gentrifier or something, but he doesn’t know me and he doesn’t seem to want to get to know me. I don’t know what his problem is.’

‘Rory’s changed a lot,’ Finlay says. ‘He’s got a lot of insecurities he never talks about. He was such a dork as a teenager. He was always moping around, pining for some girl he couldn’t have. He started going out with Elle a few years ago and completely transformed after they broke up. Bulked up, got a haircut, and bam – everything changed. Think he feels a bit weird walking around feeling like a nerd but looking, y’know, the way he does.’ Finlay’s lips curl up in a smile.

‘Really?’ I ask, delighting in this insight from Finlay. ‘I knew Elle when I was younger. We used to play together in the summer.’

He nods. ‘She’s a nice lass.’

‘Oh my God!’ I exclaim, my hand flying to my mouth.

He raises his eyebrow, a bemused expression on his face. ‘Remember something?’

I nod with excitement. ‘Yes! Donna used to speak aboutyouwhen we were younger! My last Ullapool summer, when we were fifteen, and all she could talk about was her boyfriend, Finlay, who was staying in Donegal for the summer with his family. That was you, wasn’t it? How could I have forgotten?’

Finlay looks flustered. ‘Erm, yes. We did. You remember that?’