Page 61 of The Breakup Bookshop

‘Scout’s honour,’ she says. ‘Give me all the details.’ As I dish the dirt to Donna, I keep an eye out for his car.

My heart thumps in my chest.

‘Speaking of secrets… Anythingyouwant to tellme?’

Donna sighs and begins to shuffle some papers on the till point. ‘You mean Finlay, don’t you?’

‘Yes, I mean Finlay. I’d forgotten he was your first love; you were infatuated with him when we were younger! He thinks you’re embarrassed by your recent rendezvous, though. Any truth to that?’

‘He thinks I’m embarrassed? He’s the one that can barely look me in the eye,’ she says. ‘He’s a sweetheart. It’s just, well, it isn’t meant to be. It took so long for us to be on normal terms again after we broke up all those years ago. I just can’t believe we’re back to square one.’

‘That doesn’t answer my question.’

‘Oh look.’ She points across the road. ‘There’s your Roreo. Get it? Like, Romeo?’

I laugh, shaking my head at her attempt to distract me. ‘Right, I need to go and open the shop. But this subject is not closed!’

Rory is unpacking his car and I swing out of Donna’s salon to meet him.

That kiss, though.

‘Hey,’ he calls, as I stroll across the road.

‘Hey, yourself.’ I walk closer to him and whisper, ‘How am I supposed to work all day next door to you, knowing you kiss like that?’

His eyes hold my gaze. ‘Maybe we could catch up after the breakup bookshop tonight?’

‘I’d love that. Thanks again for your help getting the courtyard ready for my extra guests. And sorry we didn’t make it to the pub.’

‘My pleasure,’ he says. ‘My night finished on a high, so I can’t complain.’

‘Margaret’s lumpy carpet?’

He laughs. I stand at the front door of the bookshop, key in hand, while he does the same next door at The Toolbox.

‘How did you know?’

*

The Next Chapter support group spills out, as I’d hoped, into the courtyard at the back of the shop. Given the popularity, people ask me whether we could hold two sessions a week, and, seeing no reason not to, I agree. People arrive early and mill around, chatting to one another. I sell a few books I’d recommended at the end of the last session. Eilidh will be pleased.

As Margaret arrives, I hear her tell Fiona that she’s been looking forward to the support group all week, which makes my heart happy. Pete makes a beeline for Donna as soon as he crosses the bookshop’s threshold and they hug as though they haven’t seen each other in months. New faces begin to filter in too, and I tick their names off the list. I introduce the guy who lost his job to the girl who’s given up drinking, and they chat easily. Finlay turns up ‘to see what all the fuss has been about’. He and Donna are quickly drawn into what looks to be another awkward exchange, but, watching them from a distance, I’m not sure either of them really minds. While they giggle and stumble their way through conversation, they don’t take their eyes off each other. Pete seems to get the vibe and gives them some space, wandering over to talk with Fiona and Margaret.

As the group starts, I welcome everyone along, explaining that we will follow a new format tonight.

‘We have a space outside for those who would prefer to have casual chats, and here, indoors, we’ll be having more in-depth discussions. We’re hoping that will suit everyone, especially as we have so many new faces. There’s no pressure for anyone to speak, but please do if you would like to.’

I remain in the bookshop with Margaret, Fiona, Donna and Eilidh, along with some new faces, while Pete and Finlay make a sharp exit to the courtyard with the other men. A gender split isn’t the intention, but when Fiona starts to talk about how much being menopausal has affected her, and not in her usual joking terms, I’m glad if it allows her to speak more freely.

‘I was convinced someone stole my car last week from the Tesco car park. Convinced. I reported it to the security guard, was about to call the police, when he pointed out my car with the registration number I’d given him. It hadn’t been stolen. I’d just forgotten I’d parked it somewhere different. The brain fog is a killer.’

‘Oh, yes, I remember it well,’ Margaret chimes in. ‘The anxiety too. I cried once because I couldn’t remember if my car took diesel or petrol. I stood there with a nozzle in my hand, completely paralysed with indecision. I had to call Bill to ask him what fuel to use. It’s a nightmare.’

‘I’m so glad you’re sharing your stories. It’s so important that we get to hear of your experiences,’ Donna says, with an intensity that surprises me. ‘Women’s health and wellbeing isn’t spoken about as much as it should be.’

The front door pushes open. Donna jumps up and rushes over to welcome the new arrival.

‘I’m Elle,’ the girl says, grinning around the room. ‘Hi Ava, welcome back.’