Dreamspinner Press Years One & Two Greatest Hits

by J. M. Colail

  John ran his hand down the dark polished wood at the end of one of the tall shelves; they felt old and sturdy under his fingers. They made him feel calm and safe. But they’re not practical. “These old shelves are a problem; we won’t be able to move them easily.”

  Jamie frowned at John. “Come on, man. Give it a chance. We’ve managed this long without moving anything.”

  John understood he’d touched a nerve and softened his voice. “I can see you offer a good range of books….”

  “People appreciate that we specialize in hard-to-find books and small local publishers,” Jamie interrupted.

  “Yes, but is that profitable?” John said in an annoyingly officious voice.

  “You saw the accounts; we do better than break even most weeks. People come back to us.”

  John knew to let the subject drop for a while and lay his hand on Jamie’s shoulder. “Come on, lad. What’s next?”

  Jamie led him to a section at the back of the store that was full of secondhand books, mainly fiction, but with a couple of nonfiction shelves. John frowned at the two old leather armchairs and made a mental note to get rid of them. He wanted customers to buy books and leave, not linger like it was a library.

  “This area takes up a lot of space with little turnover,” John muttered half to himself. “Could be a good spot for discount remainder stock.”

  John noticed Jamie’s look of disgust, but let it go; he actually felt a wave of relief that his business acumen had kicked in and provided a more familiar focus.

  “A thought for another day.” John turned and headed back to the front of the store. “But for now I have a lunch meeting with a business associate. I’ll be back in about an hour and you can fill me in on the ordering system.”

  Jamie slumped against the wall as he watched John walk out the door. He turned his face to the battered armchairs and sighed. “This is not going to be easy.”

  LUNCH WAS spent in an expensive Docklands restaurant discussing the “temporary” handover of John’s portfolio. It was familiar territory and reaffirmed John’s desire to drag Margins into a higher profit bracket. He refused to let the lure of a childhood memory get in his way. He’d gotten this far from the back streets of Bradford and there was no way he was going back.

  It was late afternoon when John pushed open the door and made his way to the bookstore’s counter where Jamie was checking through the latest invoices. Jamie looked up at the clock and flashed a cheeky smile. “Must’ve had a lot of business to discuss.”

  John scowled, but for some reason found Jamie difficult to reprimand. Instead he took off his jacket and leaned over Jamie’s shoulder, eyeing the invoice in hand. “Guess I need to start learning the ropes, huh?”

  Jamie turned his face toward him and said with a sly grin, “I’m sure you’ll find I’m a good teacher.”

  “Oh, I just bet you are.” John laughed, not sure if Jamie was flirting or just playing up to the boss. “But how about we go through the ordering system first?”

  Jamie attempted to look shocked, but failed miserably and giggled. “The order book is out back; I’ll go get it.”

  “No, I’ll go. I have to start finding my way around.”

  Jamie’s expression quickly changed and he tried to say no, but John was already around the counter. As he neared the back of the store, John’s eyes fell on a very disheveled-looking man sitting in one of the big leather armchairs engrossed in a secondhand novel. John’s initial reaction was to look away, but he couldn’t help staring at this man. His clothes were a filthy array of layers; his dirty feet were partially tucked under him and a pair of ratty elastic-sided boots sat on top of an overstuffed pack beside the chair. The shoulder-length hair could have been dark blond if it was clean, but hung in mangy brown matted lengths. The man looked up and then quickly dropped his eyes as soon as they made contact with John’s.

  Jamie had been watching John with a half-held breath and when he saw him take a step toward the chair called out quickly, “Um, John, I need you over here…. Um, there might be a problem with one of the orders.”

  John hesitated briefly, frowning at the man desperately trying to sink into the leather chair before turning to walk back to Jamie. “What sort of problem?” he muttered.

  “Oh… um… no problem really,” Jamie wasn’t sure how to continue so he took a deep breath and said, “That’s David.”

  John just folded his arms and waited.

  “Okay…. Mum saw him looking at the books in the window a few times. She said he looked cold… and sad.” Jamie paused to gauge John’s reaction, and when there was none he continued. “So she asked him if he wanted to come in. He smiled a bit, but walked away. The next day Mum saw him again. She’s not one to give up, my mum; so she went outside and convinced him to come in. Actually she almost dragged him in. She told him it was okay to read the secondhand books and bought the battered old chairs the next day. So David comes in every day to read….”

  John frowned at Jamie’s babbling and mumbled, “Sounds to me like your mum is a ‘soft touch,’ Jamie.”

  Jamie knew that was true but couldn’t stand the thought of telling David he wasn’t welcome anymore.

  “Look, John, I know this is your place now, but David is harmless. Smells a bit, but is quite nice when you can get him to talk.”

  John didn’t look convinced and was more concerned that David might discourage paying customers. Jamie shifted anxiously from one foot to the other trying to figure out how to make John understand; finally he came to a decision, took another deep breath, and suggested he introduce him to David. John rolled his eyes and shook his head, but followed the young assistant to the rear of the store because it was obviously important to Jamie.

  John felt strangely nervous as they approached the chairs. Despite the hair falling around his face and ratty beard, John could see that the man was around his age, but that was where the similarities seemed to end. John was at a loss to see what he could possibly talk to this man about.

  Jamie sat in the chair next to David, who looked up from his book and smiled. “Hey, Davey. Whatcha reading?” Instead of answering David showed him the cover of the book while casting a wary glance at John. Jamie followed his look and said, “This is John. You remember I told you how Mum was selling this place? Well, John is the new owner.” David didn’t look reassured by this information, but quietly mumbled “Hi” without meeting John’s eyes.

  For some reason those eyes disconcerted John and he didn’t hold the man’s look. Perhaps he was a reminder of another path, a “there but for the grace of God” type of thing or…. John couldn’t put his finger on why, but David was not someone he wanted near him. With a grunted a hello, John reminded Jamie that he still had to finish showing him last month’s orders and walked back to the counter. As he turned his back to them he heard Jamie say in a very conspiratorial whisper, “He’ll be okay, Dave. Just seems a bit grumpy ’cause he’s not used to us yet.”

  John raised his eyebrows and his voice at the comment. “Jamie! Come on!”

  Looking back to see if Jamie was following, John caught him leaning in to whisper something to David before giggling and jogging toward the counter.

  “He is a good person, John. Please don’t chase him out,” Jamie pleaded when he caught up.

  “Your mum’s not the only one who’s a soft touch,” John responded, but at least he was smiling. He’d already decided to deal with the David issue another day.

  THE REST of the day was spent with John, sitting at the small table beside the counter going through the ordering system, ringing distributors, and introducing himself. He was comfortable with that and gradually began to believe that the next twelve months were at least doable. There’d been a steady trickle of customers throughout the day but he left them to Jamie. John smiled at Jamie’s mix of ease and enthusiasm when dealing with people; it was obvious that they adored him, especially the older women. He was a definite asset to the business.

  J
ust before closing, a quiet figure made his way past the counter. John looked up to see David, boots back on his feet and battered pack slung over his shoulder, head down, carefully avoiding John’s eyes as he left the store. John frowned. I must do something about him.

  As he looked away from the door he caught Jamie’s worried eyes on him. John refused to acknowledge the look and simply said, “Well, Jamie, we survived our first day together. Time to lock up and head home, I think.”

  Jamie allowed the knot in his stomach to dissipate, let his breath out, and walked to the door to flip the Open sign over to Closed. He made a show of turning the lock on the door, looked at John, wiggled his eyebrows, and said, “Tomorrow we let you loose on the customers.”

  John shook his head and groaned. “Oh fuck.”

  Chapter 2

  FINDING THE off-street parking was easy enough, but getting out of the car took more courage than John could muster. He’d turned off the engine and removed his seat belt, but rather than exiting he sat silently in the driver’s seat. John knew this was the first real day of his life as a storekeeper. He closed his eyes and let his head fall back against the headrest. A fucking storekeeper, he thought. All that fucking work to end up behind a counter. Only a year, Mac, only a year.

  The key slid easily into the lock and with a simple turn the door opened. John stepped inside the still-dark store, flicked on the lights, and entered the alarm code. He took a breath and walked over to the counter. It all seemed so familiar, but not at the same time. The business side of things would be easy, he knew that. But the rest….

  John ran his fingers over the antiquated cash register and soon they were lightly dancing over the keys; not enough to move them, just enough to feel them against his fingertips. He stopped and looked up through the store. It was quiet. There was a flutter of anxiety in the pit of his stomach and the usual dull pain behind his eyes. Without any real purpose, John strolled through the solid bookshelves, briefly touching the occasional volume before moving on.

  It wasn’t long before he found himself sitting in one of the leather chairs. He slouched down into worn leather and closed his eyes. The smell of dust and old books was strong. He smiled, feeling like a little boy sitting in the “big” chair at his granny’s. She always surrounded herself with books and let John sit in his granddad’s chair to read them. John felt his muscles relax. He felt safe.

  “You look happier this morning.”

  John leaped out of the chair as if he’d been caught doing something wrong and glared at Jamie who was leaning, hands in pockets, against one of the shelves. It took a moment for the blood to stop rushing in his ears but he managed to growl, “If you plan on keeping your job, don’t sneak up on your boss!”

  John stalked past Jamie toward the counter, ignoring the barely concealed giggle of the young man bouncing along behind him.

  THE MORNING passed easily and generally without incident. The early customers tended to be relatively introspective and seemed to know what they were looking for without his help. Jamie informed him that “Customers usually fall into categories according to the time of day or day of the week. The morning is for those on a mission, by eleven a.m. the university students surface, and afternoon is for the browsers and mums with kids.” As if on cue a young couple talking loudly breezed past them and headed for the secondhand book section.

  Jamie gave John a triumphant look and stated, “Student types. It must be nearly eleven.”

  John chuckled at the smug look and couldn’t resist needling Jamie by asking, “So what time is set aside for our resident transient?”

  Jamie’s grin faltered and with a quiet “I’ll put the kettle on,” he left the counter and walked into the kitchen.

  A laugh alerted John to the fact that the “student types” were emerging from the secondhand alcove and heading toward him. John braced himself with a mental be polite and asked, “Find anything interesting?”

  The boy threw a paperback in front of John and grunted, “Does the bookmark come with the book?”

  John frowned and picked up the book, opening the page where a slightly tattered red leather bookmark rested. “Um, I guess so….”

  Suddenly Jamie appeared from the back room and snatched the book out of his hands. He glanced first at John and then the students, saying in a very hesitant voice, “I’m sorry. This one isn’t for sale.”

  “It was on the shelf!” The boy argued.

  Jamie shot another look at John before stammering, “I… I made a mistake. It was requested by someone who phoned earlier and I forgot to pull it off the shelf.”

  The boy didn’t look convinced, but his girlfriend smiled and said, “Hey, that’s okay. We all make mistakes.”

  Jamie smiled and silently thanked her for getting him off the hook with her boyfriend.

  “Look, if I get another copy I’ll make sure I put it under the counter for you, yeah?” Jamie said, holding on tightly to the paperback.

  The girl realized there was obviously more to this so thanked him quietly before dragging her boyfriend out the door. Once they were gone Jamie just stood looking down at the book, his fingers worrying the corner of the bookmark, trying to avoid John’s gaze. But he knew the question was inevitable.

  “What was that all about?”

  Jamie sighed. “The book is reserved, John. Sort of.”

  “Shouldn’t it be behind the counter if it’s reserved?” John asked with narrowed eyes, well aware that Jamie was trying to get out of answering him.

  “Um… yeah, my mistake. I’ll put it away.” Jamie avoided looking directly at John and reached down to put it under the counter, but John stopped him with a quiet “Now tell me what’s really going on here, Jamie.”

  Jamie twitched a bit, realizing John wouldn’t be diverted. “Mum gave that bookmark to David to let us know which book he’s reading, you know, so we wouldn’t sell it until he was finished.”

  David again! John inwardly growled, but looked at Jamie and said, “Okay. I can live with that, and of course you’ll let me know if there’s anything else I should be warned about.”

  Jamie’s relief was palpable as he watched John walk back through the store to return the bookmarked novel to the shelf next to the chair. This isn’t going to be easy, but we’ll get there…. We have to. He released a breath and called, “I’m off to buy some lunch. Want me to get you something?”

  “Anything’s fine.” John smiled as he walked back to the counter. “So long as it’s none of your vegetarian muck!”

  “Okay, sliced corpse on bread for you then?”

  “Sounds perfect.” John grinned and pulled out his wallet. “Here; take some money.”

  Jamie waved it away and chuckled as he dashed to the door. “That’s cool, mate. I always grab it out of the cash register.” Luckily Jamie was through the door before John let loose with a string of very colorful expletives.

  John was still shuffling through the accounts when he heard the bell above the door. He was all set to tell Jamie to hurry with his delicious sliced corpse when he saw David come in. Both men avoided looking at each other; David kept his head down and John suddenly found an invoice fascinating. He didn’t see Jamie enter the store until a brown paper bag was thrown on the counter in front of him. “Food for the carnivore.”

  Relieved with the distraction, John grabbed the bag and went into the kitchen. “You want a tea or coffee?”

  Jamie continued walking to the back of the store and called over his shoulder, “Can I have two teas, please?”

  John frowned as the water rushed into the kettle. “Two teas?” Then he realized with a groan: “David.”

  With two mugs in hand John walked through the store wondering who the hell was the boss in this place. He could already hear the two men talking when he rounded the shelf and saw Jamie crack up laughing and run his hand over David’s hair. It was an innocent enough gesture, but John cringed at the sight. How can Jamie touch him in that state?

  David stopp
ed talking as soon as he saw John and took the mug with a quiet “Thank you.” Jamie flashed John his best smile and said, “Ta, John. Here, sit down and have lunch with us. I’ll grab the floor.” Jamie started to stand, but John waved him back down and left them to share Jamie’s lunch.

  JOHN WAS relieved that his first “real” day was over, although he had to admit it hadn’t been as bad as expected. The register tallied, taking into account the lunch money snaffled by Jamie, and the day’s takings seemed quite healthy.

  Jamie was in the kitchen rinsing out their well-used mugs, leaving John to do the final walk-through of the store before locking up. John methodically straightened up any stray books and checked for discarded sweetie wrappers near the children’s books. The last section he reached was the secondhand books and John realized he’d already started to think of this as David’s spot. “All bloody Jamie’s fault,” John grumbled as he moved to pick up a piece of paper left on one of the chairs. “I would have flung him out day one without Jamie whining in my ear.”

  John looked down at the paper. It had obviously been torn out of one of the cheap water-damaged sketch books they kept near the counter, like the one he’d seen stuffed in the side of David’s backpack. But it was the subject of the sketch that made him frown. He was looking at himself. It was a picture of John at the counter doing the accounts; his chin was resting on his hand and his eyes were unfocused, staring into space.

  John was taken aback by the image. Is that what I look like to him? It certainly wasn’t the face he saw in the mirror every morning. He was still scowling at the sketch when Jamie said, “That’s beautiful.”

  John was startled by the sudden voice and growled, “Fucking hell, Jamie. I wish you would stop sneaking up on me!”

  “What would be the fun in that?” Jamie grinned, his dark eyes dancing with mischief. “I like catching the boss perving at pictures of himself.”