Page 64 of The Breakup Bookshop

But Elle said it herself – without knowing she had a very interested party in the audience: Rory would get back with her in a heartbeat if he could. If that is the case, where would that leave me?

One afternoon, after I spent twenty minutes helping a mum pitch the joy of reading to a very sceptical nine-year-old who still leaves empty-handed, Rory invites me to close the bookshop for lunch.

‘Close it? Altogether?’

‘Yes, as in, take some time to eat.’

‘That’s an interesting concept. I never close the shop to eat. I just eat.’

‘I know. That’s why I’m suggesting it,’ he says. ‘Call it a date.’

My to-do list shakes its head accusingly at me, and I’m sure my bank balance is screaming somewhere, but I don’t care. Rory’s right. I should take the time to eat lunch. It’s one of the things I promised myself when I first moved here, before I started the renovation work. Now, the bookshop is open, I can take time. Not only that, but I have a big burly Scotsman asking for my hand in lunch.

‘I’d love to go on a date,’ I say, running through all the things I need to do before I leave, but it really is simple: lock the door and leave. ‘Let me just grab my keys.’

‘Let’s go to the seafood place up the street,’ he suggests, as he casually reaches over and takes my hand in his.

Oh, so we’re doing this. We’re walking out in Ullapool, hand in hand, like a real couple.

The seafood place has an outdoor area packed with tables and wooden benches, and a large van selling food. There’s also a smaller van in the corner. A gin van. How come I haven’t been here before now? This is a real hidden gem, just a few hundred metres from my bookshop.

We order haddock butties with garlic mayonnaise and a portion of chips to share. I can already taste the chips with their tantalizing salty smell. The server hands us a wooden spoon and tells us to listen out for our number. Rory takes my hand again as we sit down. Sliding my sunglasses over my eyes, I bask in the early afternoon sunshine.

It’s lunchtime. I’m sitting outside in the Ullapool sun with a gorgeous Scotsman. How lucky am I?

‘This is bliss. How come I’ve not been here before?’

‘Work gets in the way. I had a customer in the store for an hour earlier, asking for tips on panelling his living room. Says he attempted it himself, but his wife almost divorced him when she saw his efforts.’

‘Sounds like they need the breakup bookshop.’

‘Or a joiner.’

I roll my eyes, then smile at Rory. It’s not like we suddenly agree on everything.

‘I had a debate with a nine-year-old about the benefits of reading versus playingFortnitefor hours at a time. Pretty sure I lost. We should definitely come here more often. It’s easy enough just to come along and place an order. Get it? “Plaice” an order?’

‘Ah, come on,’ he shakes his head. ‘You’re not fishing for jokes now, are you?’

‘Oh my cod, yes, we have to!’

‘What does a fish say when he meets the love of his life?’ Rory asks and I shrug, grinning with anticipation. ‘‘I’ve met the gill of my dreams.”’

I groan, even though I love it. ‘This scampi happening!’

‘Och, that’s terrible,’ he shakes his head. ‘Cod you please calm down? You’re being areelpain in my bass.’

Our order number is called and Rory stands up to collect it. I stretch my legs out and rack my brains for more fish jokes as he sets the haddock bap, wrapped in paper, in front of me, putting the delicious salty chips in the middle of the table.

‘I’ve had a realization,’ Rory says as he slides onto the bench.

‘Is this another fish pun?’ I frown, trying to think if the word ‘realization’ has fish connotations.

He shakes his head. ‘No. It’s only a couple of weeks until I remove those green tiles from your bathroom.’

I pause and look across the table at Rory. He cocks his head to one side, a tentative smile on his lips.

‘Ah, yes. Victory is within my grasp.’