Winter Wayhaught

Chapter 7

Customers came and went. Nicole struggled to remain focused on what she was supposed to be doing, her mind fixated on that text. What sort of person could do such a mean-spirited thing, she wondered. Robin kept looking over, giving her a thumbs up. She was glad of his support. He was right. This problem may have been there before, but she was here now, determined to show Waverly she had her full support.

Her phone rang. "Hi, it's me."

"Waverly?"

"Thanks for returning my phone. I'd forget my head if it wasn't screwed on."

"Are you OK?"

"Yes, fine. I can't stay long."

"I'm really sorry. I didn't mean to, but I saw a text."

There was a pause. "Can't talk right now. You free for dinner Wednesday?"

"Shall I book somewhere?"

"I was thinking my flat. 7.30pm."

"Would you like me to come to London with your phone? I can get it from Wynonna. Robin can manage the store."

"Oh, my God. You'd do that. You really would. No, it's fine. I'll manage."

"Look. I'm here for you. OK. Or, in London if you want me."

"I know. Seriously, I can cope without a phone for a few days. But, thank you. That's a really kind gesture. And, I know you would in a heartbeat."

"Really, it's no trouble."

"Stop worrying. I've got to go. I'll call you tonight from the hotel. Say 9ish."

It was reassuring to hear Waverly's voice. She really would travel all the way to London to get the phone to her. In a heartbeat. The bookstore closed, chores completed, meal for one eaten, she sat waiting for Waverly to call.

9.30pm. No call. She wished she'd asked the name of where she was staying in London. She was learning Waverly wasn't the most reliable when it came to communications. She would have preferred her not to set a time, that way she would not be sitting, staring at her phone willing it to ring. She went downstairs, a glass of whiskey in one hand, a blanket in the other, heading to Waverly's favourite chair.

The bookstore was cold. Too cold to sit in. She didn't care. She wanted to feel connected the only way she knew how. She placed the glass on the small table she had left in place after their party, throwing the blanket over the back of the chair, wondering what book to choose. The benefit of having your own bookstore. She scanned the nearby shelves. Something romantic, well-written. Her eyes were drawn to the middle row. She extracted one, returning to the chair, pulling her feet up under her, tucking the blanket over her legs. She wished she had put on an extra jumper.

She studied the cover. The Way We Were by Alice Makepeace. The book she had flicked through while Waverly got ready in her flat. She had read five, planning to read the remaining five. Several chapters in, her phone rang, startling her.

"Hi, sorry. Only just got back."

"It's fine. How was your day?"

"Never-ending meetings. Then we had to go for a meal. I'm exhausted. How was your day?"

"Busy. I hugged Robin."

"Right. You usually do that?"

"No. It was a power hug. Very awkward."

"Why were you power hugging? No, never mind. What goes on in the store, stays in the store."

"I'm sitting in your chair reading Alice Makepeace."