The Little Book Cafe Part 1

by Georgia Hill

  ‘So,’ Amy began, blushing a little. ‘If I could begin.’ She went on to put the book into context, explaining it fell into the gothic genre and that she felt its themes were destructive love and the hope that a new generation could bring. As she continued to talk, her blushes and halting speech evaporated and a new confidence shone out. ‘Perhaps we could now go round the group sharing our thoughts. Biddy, would you like to start? What do you think of Heathcliff?’

  Biddy grunted and swallowed her glass of wine in one. ‘Manipulative, that’s what he is,’ she boomed. ‘Pulling strings. Making Linton woo Catherine, abusing Hindley and Isabella.’

  Tash hid a grin as she saw Marti flip feverishly through her copy. It was pristine with the spine unbroken.

  ‘A lot of people see him as a romantic hero,’ Emma argued. ‘There’s no doubting his love for Cathy. He loves her so much.’

  ‘Piffle. Real love isn’t about possession.’

  ‘I happen to think you’re right Biddy,’ Kit said. ‘I think real love is stepping back and letting the person you love make mistakes, even if it’s painful to watch. Giving them the freedom to discover themselves and what they can be.’ He paused. ‘Even if it means, in the end, they might go away from you.’

  Tash shifted uncomfortably. All this was too close to her realisations about Adrian and she didn’t like it. Heathcliff, the romantic hero she’d loved so passionately when she’d read the book at school, was being revealed as a controlling bully. At seventeen she’d longed for a strong, dominant man to love her possessively as Heathcliff had loved Cathy. The reality of being loved like that was terrifying.

  ‘Oh, but Heathcliff has been betrayed by Cathy. That’s what has made him act so vindictively,’ said Emma, ever ready to see the good in people.

  ‘Doesn’t excuse the things he did,’ Biddy declared. ‘Terrorising Nelly, that poor puppy.’ She shuddered, and Elvis whined in his sleep as if he sympathised.

  ‘Shall we move on?’ Amy suggested. ‘The role of the unreliable narrator plays a huge part in this novel. Marti, what do you think?’

  Marti started. Tash watched with interest. She’d bet a month’s commission the woman hadn’t even opened the book.

  ‘Oh yes,’ Marti blustered. ‘I just love great literature, don’t you?’ She nodded enthusiastically, her long earrings jangling violently. ‘I think the unreliable narrator plays a very vital role.’

  Biddy hmphed in disgust. ‘Speak up woman. Some of us don’t hear so well.’

  Tash bit her lip to stop a giggle escape. Marti had spoken perfectly audibly. Biddy was having fun at the woman’s expense.

  ‘Come on,’ Biddy continued. ‘We’re all waiting on your pearls of wisdom. Make your views known. How specifically does the unreliable narrator affect how we read the book?’

  Marti went scarlet and hid her face in her immaculate copy of Wuthering Heights. She stuttered something anodyne until Amy rescued her.

  Chapter 27

  When everyone moved downstairs to eat Millie’s sandwiches, Tash stayed put. She picked up the wine bottle and re-filled her glass thoughtfully. It had been a fascinating evening but some of the discussion had been painfully close to home. Adrian might not have been physically violent yet but he was certainly as manipulative as Heathcliff, and did it all in the name of love. Heathcliff and Cathy had long been her model for a perfect passionate and romantic love. Now Tash knew she needed to break the chains of the warped love Adrian had bound her with.

  Weirdly, the deciding moment that told her it had ended had been over something trivial. It had happened a few days ago. The thing that made her determined to get away from Adrian had been, of all things, a lipstick. Emma had passed the iconic Dior cylinder onto her explaining she’d won it in a competition but the vibrant red wouldn’t suit her. With Tash’s jet-black hair and tanned colouring, it would look fabulous. It did. Tash had been admiring its effect in the bathroom mirror one morning after applying.

  ‘What on earth have you got on?’ Adrian asked, after barging in without knocking. ‘You’ve been in here for ages. Aren’t you going to be late for work?’ He peered closer. ‘Your lips aren’t that shape, Natasha.’

  Tash looked at him, puzzled. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘You don’t have lips that shape. Why have you put lipstick on in a way to make them look like that? And why on earth would you want to wear lipstick that bright anyway? It makes you look cheap, Natasha. Oh, and here’s your engagement ring. You left it on the bedside table. Anyone would think you didn’t like it. Up to Manchester again today and might have to stay over. I’ll miss my darling fiancée.’ He kissed her on the cheek, groped her bottom and left.

  Tash stared at her reflection, absorbing the relief flooding through her. A whole day, maybe two, without Adrian. And he hadn’t mentioned the book group. She was free to go. In fact, if he stayed in Manchester overnight, he wouldn’t even know. She stared at her lips. The matte red made them appear fuller, more sensual, but they were still the same shape they’d always been. She leaned closer and pouted. A glimmer of the old Tash reflected back. The confident, fun person who had been eroded by months of Adrian’s controlling behaviour. ‘Where did she go to?’ Tash whispered. Before she’d gone out with him, bright red lipstick had been a favourite. Adrian had bought her a nude shade as one of her presents for their first Christmas together. ‘Christian Louboutin,’ he’d said proudly, when she opened it. She’d looked it up a few days later and had been amazed to see it sold for seventy pounds. At the time things like that had mattered. Now she’d settle for a Boots own brand as long as it was given without the expectation that she change to suit someone else’s agenda.

  Defiantly, she patted the Dior red down with a tissue and applied another coat. Leaving the engagement ring on the bathroom sink, she had gone down to collect Benji to go into work.

  ‘Penny for them?’

  Tash jumped. Biddy had climbed back upstairs to check on a sleepy Elvis, who was still snoring alongside Benji. ‘Brought you some food. Looks like you could do with some, in my opinion.’

  ‘Thank you.’ Tash took the plate loaded with coronation chicken sandwiches. She wasn’t sure she could eat any of it.

  ‘Try a morsel, child,’ Biddy said, stoutly. ‘Lemon drizzle to follow. Brought some of my special brownies as well.’

  Tash nibbled on the corner of a sandwich and, to her surprise, found herself ravenous.

  ‘That’s more like it. You got troubles?’

  Tash looked at Biddy. She hardly knew the woman, except by reputation. She wasn’t exactly the person she wanted to confide in but, somehow, she did. And once she’d begun, the relief was so acute, she couldn’t stop. She told Biddy everything.

  When she’d finished Biddy simply nodded, then said, ‘You have to make a plan. Rehearse what you’re going to say because the bastard will screw you round otherwise. And have things ready for when you go. It’s the most dangerous time. Many a woman has got hit the moment she told her bloke it was all over. It’s the time you’re most vulnerable in an abusive relationship.’

  Tash swallowed down the last tiny crumb of cake. It stuck in her throat. ‘Do you think that’s what it is? Abusive? Adrian’s never actually hurt me.’ She winced as she thought back to that one night. ‘Well, not deliberately.’

  ‘From my experience that’ll be next,’ Biddy said. ‘Get out while you can, girl. You got somewhere to go?’

  Tash nodded. ‘I can go to my parents’ house.’

  ‘Good.’ Biddy got up, easing her back as she did. ‘Oof. Too much time sitting down tonight. You want any help, just ask, you hear?’ Then she winked. ‘We got the measure of that snob Marti, didn’t we?’ She shook her head and cackled. ‘Bet my bottom dollar she’s not got past the first page. Had to chuckle when she asked who Nelly was! Can’t abide a book snob.’ She whistled to Elvis, waved a hand and made her way carefully down the spiral staircase. ‘Hello there, young Kit,’ Tash heard her say. ‘Yes, go on up, she’s stil
l there.’

  Chapter 28

  ‘I’ve come to say sorry,’ he began. ‘For making all those assumptions the other day. I had no right.’

  Tash waved his apology away. ‘Oh Kit, it should be me saying that to you. I’m so sorry. You were only trying to help.’ She bit her lip, keeping the sudden tears at bay. She never let herself cry and certainly wouldn’t break down in front of Kit.

  He resumed his seat beside her. ‘Life can be shitty sometimes.’

  Tash looked away. That he didn’t ask questions, didn’t insist on an explanation for her awful behaviour, made tears threaten again. She took several deep, gulping breaths and concentrated hard on reading the poster advertising the Fun Dog Show. ‘Entry five pounds,’ it proclaimed. ‘All proceeds to the RNLI.’ When she’d recovered, she turned back to him. ‘Was your divorce really awful?’

  Kit didn’t seem fazed by the abrupt question. Pursing his lips, he gave a little nod and blew out a breath. ‘It was. At the time. Took a while for the legal stuff to be sorted and Mel and I didn’t talk for a few years.’ He leaned forward. ‘But the one thing we had was a deep friendship, as well as a married life together. In the end that resurfaced.’ He shrugged. ‘When we’d got to a point where we were both happy in our lives, we became those good friends again. I’m genuinely happy she’s happy with her American dentist. And Mel would be the same if it ever happened for me again.’

  Tash stared into his deep set eyes. They were green, she noticed. A deep, forest green. How could she ever have thought him unattractive? ‘And has it?’ she breathed. ‘Happened for you again?’

  Kit looked down. He picked a dog hair off his jeans. ‘Possibly. Too early to tell. There are complications. Wish it would get sorted soon though. One legacy of divorce is that it’s left me unable to sleep without someone else in the bed.’ He scrubbed a hand over his face. ‘Permanently tired.’

  ‘Oh.’ Tash ached to know who the woman was. ‘She must be someone very special.’

  ‘She is.’ Kit grinned. ‘Come on,’ he said, standing up. ‘I’m sure Amy is desperate to lock up. She was saying earlier that the meeting had overrun and she needed to get home.’

  Tash became very busy. Clicking her tongue at Benji, she gathered up his water bowl and chew and stuffed them into her backpack. Maybe it was Amy who had captured this man’s heart? He was always so kind to her. She slung the backpack on, thrusting her arms through its loops. She hoped they’d be very happy. Amy, with her shy, gentle ways was a good match for him. But, despite her preoccupation with Adrian, she felt her heart break a little further.

  ‘Don’t forget your book.’ Kit picked it up and passed it to her. ‘Hang on, I’ll put it in your rucksack for you. Save you taking it off again.’

  His fingers brushed hers as he took back the book. He went to stand behind her and the heat from his body radiated out. His breathing tickled her ear, making her long to turn and capture his mouth with hers. Hearing him unzip the bag and feeling it sag made Tash’s breath hitch. It was a curiously intimate act, as if he was unzipping her clothes. Screwing her eyes tightly shut, she forced back the tears which, once again, threatened. The zip closing had a note of finality.

  ‘All done.’ Kit patted her on the shoulder. ‘Come on, time to go. Try not to fall on the stairs this time.’

  ‘I’ll try my best.’ Tash forced a cheery note into her voice.

  They called goodnight to Amy who, as Kit had predicted, was waiting to lock up, and went out into the night.

  It was very still and clear. A late seagull cried mournfully as it glided overhead, its underbelly lit bright white by the lights on the prom. Tash could hear the sea shift in the distance and smell the pungent seaweed. She loved her home town, had never felt the need to move away. She had everything here that she needed or wanted. A fresh wave of misery washed over her as she contemplated having to face those who would crow and gossip over the ruins of her once perfect life. And, for the first time, she questioned how easy it would be living in a small town with an ex in the background. An ex like Adrian.

  ‘I hope I don’t have to move away,’ she blurted out.

  Kit came very near. He traced a finger down her cheek. ‘Why would you need to do that?’ His curiosity was intense.

  ‘I don’t know,’ she floundered. ‘I just might have to.’

  ‘I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. If you need any help, you know where I am. Come to me.’ He smiled slightly. ‘Benji too. Plenty of room.’

  She longed to kiss him, craved the solidity of his touch. She wanted him to make her feel safe. That was what had been missing from her life with Adrian, she realised, especially in the last few months. She’d been spoiled, indulged, but caged like a bird with clipped wings. And never made to feel safe.

  She made a move towards him then stopped. She ought to go. With Adrian in Manchester, it would be the ideal opportunity to pack up some things. She’d stow them in her car boot. He’d never notice if she was careful with what she packed. The temptation to linger with Kit was strong, though. She wished they’d met at a simpler time. She wished there was no woman in his life who ‘might become special.’ She wished he’d kiss her until she had no breath left. Then she froze. She heard the roar of a car coming along the prom towards them. She knew that sound. It was unique. No other car in Berceombe sounded like that. It was Adrian’s Porsche.

  ‘I’ve got to go,’ she whispered and ran away from him. As she reached the start of the promenade behind Millie’s café, the Porsche had parked up. It sat, a malevolent red creature, the engine still running with Adrian tapping his fingers on the steering wheel.

  ‘Sorted Manchester sooner than I expected. Thought I’d come and collect you from book group,’ he called out cheerfully. ‘Aren’t I clever to remember you were going?’

  ‘I’d rather walk home, Adrian. I’ve got the dog.’

  ‘Of course you’ve got the dog. You’ve always got that bloody dog. Oh get in, Natasha. I’ll put up with the animal just this once.’

  Tash clambered in, clutching Benji close to her on her lap. She had no idea how much Adrian knew but, from the underlying violence in his tone, it was enough.

  Chapter 29

  ‘Natasha, will you get home and stop this dog from yapping?’

  Pulling the car over, Tash took the message on her mobile. It had been one of those mornings. She’d left Emma in the office manning the phones chasing up fifty or so queries and had been out taking on three new clients. They’d all taken longer than expected. Adding to her stress was that Benji had thrown up in the early hours. She’d left him at home, thinking it unfair for him to be in a warm car while she worked. It meant leaving him with Adrian who was working at home.

  The journey home from the book group had been undertaken in a tense silence. Surprisingly, Adrian had accepted Tash’s plea of exhaustion and the need for a shower and an early night. Tash hadn’t slept but had lain rigidly on her back, as far away from Adrian as possible. It had almost been a relief to get up and see to Benji. After cleaning up, she’d slept on the sofa to be nearer to the dog. Or that was the excuse she gave herself.

  She and Adrian had tiptoed politely around one another that morning but he’d agreed to keep an eye on Benji when she explained she had to leave the dog behind. ‘He’ll be no trouble,’ had been her parting words as she rushed out.

  Pressing a thumb to her temple, she tried to return Adrian’s message but his phone went to voicemail. She let her head loll back on the headrest for a second. She was exhausted. Not just from lack of sleep but from the situation and from her lack of action. It was unlike her. She was the sort of person who, when faced with a problem, decided what possible solutions there were and tried them out. Or she used to be that person. Switching the engine back on, she did a swift U-turn and headed for home. The very fact that Adrian was being so unusually accommodating worried her. Remembering Biddy’s words, she knew she had to handle it all calmly and have a plan.

  The
house was silent when she unlocked the front door. Going through the kitchen into an empty utility room she breathed a sigh of relief when she saw Adrian out in the garden with Benji. The dog was running around. He must be feeling better. She left her bag on the work surface and went outside. She was about to call out when she saw, to her horror, that Adrian was chasing the dog. And it was no game. Benji had slid behind the rose arbour and lay, cowed and panting, his eyes wide with fright.

  ‘You little fucker!’ Adrian yelled, puce in the face and aimed a kick. Benji screamed in pain.

  ‘Adrian,’ Tash roared. ‘What the hell is going on?’ She ran to the arbour, putting herself between dog and man, spreading her arms wide as a barricade. As she did so Adrian kicked again, missing the dog but grazing Tash’s ankle painfully.

  ‘Adrian, stop it. You’ve hurt me!’

  For a second everything froze. Tash waited, watching rage and guilt chase across Adrian’s face. Watching a shade of ashen white replace the red flush of fury. She held her breath, listening to Benji whine. He’d hurt the dog. Was she going to be next?

  The moment held and then broke.

  Adrian staggered back. He collapsed onto the bench, breathing heavily.

  In a lightning response, Tash turned to the dog and took him by the collar. Benji refused to come out, so she dragged him from his hiding place and picked him up. Holding him close, she tried to soothe him with a shaking hand. She levelled a stare at Adrian. ‘What did you think you were doing?’

  Adrian went on the attack. ‘Oh, so now you come back. After the little shit has puked all over the garden.’ He thrust a hand towards the path where Tash could see a puddle of vomit. ‘About fucking time.’ He reared up.

  Tash felt Benji begin a growl and clutched him harder. That he was willing to protect her, even having been attacked, brought tears to her eyes. She willed them away, sensing that if she showed the slightest sign of weakness, Adrian would go for her next.