Scratch that. Last night’s non-date.
It meant she didn’t have to think about Noah either. About her last sight of him: shoulders hunched against the chill of the night, his joyful grin, hair aflame. It wasn’t an image that repulsed her. It was so far away from her memories of gangly, gawky Know It All Noah with his spots and his Coke-bottle glasses and pocket protector. Now, Noah was actually quite pleasing to look at, though he really needed to leave his navy-blue comfort zone.
Nina shook her head to dispel all thoughts of Noah. They’d had one non-date and now they were done. She’d worked off her guilt so it was time to move on and go on a date with a guy who lived next door to Stefan and Annika from the Swedish deli.
Stefan swore Nina would love him but it turned out that Stefan had even worse taste in men than Nina did. Josh addressed all his remarks to Nina’s cleavage and as he did nothing but talk about himself for the forty-seven minutes that Nina sat there, she was sure he’d be able to pick out her boobs in a police line-up.
He didn’t ask Nina one single question about herself and said nothing to make her laugh or want to stay for a second drink to find out more about him.
He was also wearing tight jeans (which normally she liked) rolled up to show his hairy ankles because he was also wearing loafers with no socks (which Nina always hated, always). In fact, it was such a lacklustre date compared to the high points of the non-date the night before that Nina didn’t even bother with her usual subterfuge. Instead of excusing herself to powder her nose then escaping into the night through a side door, she just stood up and put her coat on. ‘This is never going to happen again,’ she told Josh. It was the first thing she’d said in thirty minutes.
‘So you don’t fancy coming back to mine for a quick bang?’ he asked hopefully.
‘Not while I have breath in my body,’ Nina said grandly before she swept out and went back home to not think about Noah and the non-date. And to text Stefan and tell him that he owed her at least a week of free lunches.
Nina was still not thinking about Noah the next day, enough that she asked Posy casually when he might be in the shop again.
‘I don’t know. Maybe next week. Maybe the week after,’ Posy said vaguely. Her keenness that they all start working smarter thanks to Noah’s business solutions had fizzled out in the way that it so often did after Posy’s initial burst of enthusiasm. ‘Why? Do you need him for something?’
‘Just curious,’ Nina said and they had a peculiar ten seconds of staring at each other as Nina wondered if Noah had mentioned to Posy, his good friend’s wife, that he’d been on a date with her employee. And Posy was probably wondering why Nina was staring at her without blinking. Nina forced herself to look down at the Post-it she was holding. ‘Anyway, we don’t really need a business analyst, do we? I was thinking … all that stuff we talked about before we relaunched, the special events and a book group and things, when are we going to crack on with it all?’
‘I haven’t forgotten about any of that,’ Posy said, her eyes wide, her brow creased. ‘It’s just that it’s all I can do to keep on top of the day-to-day things. Ordering stock, talking to reps, managing my staff.’
‘Still seems a shame to let it all slide,’ Nina said casually. She had no experience in organising things, but it would be something new, something challenging. It might not be creative but she’d be dealing with creative people: authors, bloggers …
‘Of course, now that Tom’s finally finished his thesis, and I still don’t understand how it takes four years to write a really long essay, then he might be up for taking more of an active role in the shop,’ Posy mused. ‘I mean, he’s been teaching while he’s been doing his PhD so he has experience in telling people what to do … though I guess he might become a full-time academic now.’
‘Yeah, Tom would probably be pretty good at that side of things though he knows sod all about romantic novels,’ Nina pointed out. ‘Or—’
‘Ha, not that our customers of a certain age care about that,’ Posy interrupted. ‘They just treat Tom like a tweedy book god.’ She shook her head in disbelief then went into the office and shut the door behind her so she couldn’t see Nina’s shoulders slump. Normally Nina had no trouble asserting herself but then she so rarely expected anyone to take her seriously. Especially not Posy, who tended to treat Nina as comic relief from the stresses of being a small-business owner rather than as a valued employee. But then it was hardly Posy’s fault when Nina spent so much time playing the fool.
‘Excuse me, do you work here?’
Nina’s unhappy train of thought was derailed by a customer who wanted a book brought down from a high shelf and another lady who wanted a recommendation for her mother-in-law’s birthday and many people after that, all wanting to buy books and Nina chatted to them all. She did love chatting to people about books; it was her favourite part of her job. Made every day different.
And she was only preoccupied with the lack of creativity in her day job because of the non-date with Noah. Nina glanced down at her outfit; the hated Happy Ever After T-shirt, which she’d paired with a tight black pencil skirt and green snakeskin mary janes with a punishingly high heel. She held out her arms to check that they were still covered in tattoos. Checked her tongue, nose and several ear piercings, then admired her face with its perfectly arched brows and red lips in the little mirror she kept under the counter.
She was creative. You couldn’t look the way Nina did if you were uncreative. Each morning when she stood in front of her wardrobe and decided what she’d wear, or rather what would go with that horrid grey thing Posy made them wear, Nina was choosing who she wanted to be that day. That was creativity right there, she thought as the bell tinkled above the door and a bike courier came in.
‘I can sign for it,’ Nina called out because when the office door was closed it meant that Posy and Verity were hard at work and didn’t want to be disturbed.
The courier held up a bag from the London Graphic Centre in Covent Garden. ‘For a Nina O’Kelly?’
Nina frowned. ‘That’s me.’ She knew for an absolute fact that she hadn’t ordered anything from the London Graphic Centre, which was like Selfridges for stationery lovers and artists alike. ‘But that can’t be for me.’
‘That’s your name, innit though.’ The courier didn’t care, he just wanted Nina’s signature so he could move on to his next job.
He was out of the door before she’d even opened the bag. Inside were two beautiful, black, soft-bound sketchpads, the paper inside as smooth as velvet, a tin of really fancy Faber Castell coloured pencils and a smaller tin of stubby charcoals. ‘What the hell?’ Nina wondered out loud. Was there another Nina O’Kelly in a parallel universe who’d actually stayed on to do her A-levels and had then gone to art college and become a successful graphic artist?
It was a mystery until Nina peered into the bag again and drew out an envelope. Her name was written on it in an almost illegible scrawl. She opened it to find a single sheet of paper with the same spider’s-web writing on it. It took a little while to decipher it.
Dear Nina
You said that you wouldn’t know what to do with a stick of charcoal so here’s your chance to find out.
Noah
Underneath his name, he’d written his email address in block capitals so it was at least more legible than the rest of the short note.
Nina looked at the sketchbooks, the coloured pencils, the sticks of charcoal. Two nights ago she’d confessed her secret dreams to Noah, even though she hadn’t even shared the same aspirations with her closest friends. And because her secret dreams were also her secret resentments, Nina had got defensive and dismissive when Noah had suggested she take a life-drawing class.
Now, she felt something inside her give, like a flower slowly unfurling its petals. Noah had listened to her, really listened to her, and stored all that information away so he could buy her this thoughtful gift. It was the nicest thing that anyone had done for Nina in a long, long
time.
I don’t want nice, said the voice in her head (as it so often did). But she was definitely going to have to commit to a second date now, she thought, as all the complicated feelings that Noah roused in her – amusement, annoyance, bewilderment but mostly guilt – rose up in her again. This time, Nina would absolutely confirm its non-date status before they’d finished their first drink. Maybe even draw Noah a diagram of the friendzone that she was going to put him in. Give him a whole speech about how they should just be mates because he wasn’t her type and God knows, she couldn’t be his type. She only had seven GCSEs, after all.
Perhaps another drunken non-date was the wrong message. Nina could be just as thoughtful as Noah. Or at least, she could try. As she served customers and discussed new releases on autopilot she came up with and discarded half a dozen possible non-date scenarios with the help of Time Out and Google.
Noah would probably enjoy going to a lecture at the Royal Geographical Society about climate change or to the Institute of Contemporary Art on The Mall to listen to a ‘theorist and media activist’ talk about ‘futureability’ but Nina would rather have root-canal treatment without an anaesthetic.
He’d mentioned wanting to do the Gumball Rally, a transcontinental car race, but no way could Nina afford a day at Brands Hatch and as for his other high-adrenalin pursuits, Nina wasn’t going to do anything that involved having to wear figure-hugging Lycra. She liked to play to her strengths and having every lump and bump showcased was not playing to her strengths.
Nina was still mulling it over when Sam popped into the shop after school. ‘Oh! Hello stranger,’ Nina exclaimed in delight because a Sam visit was sadly a rare occurrence these days.
Before Sam and Posy had moved in with Sebastian, Sam had always been cluttering up the place. Arguing with Posy about whether he’d done his homework or if he needed new school trousers. Asphyxiating them all with the noxious body spray he’d douse himself in so that he might attract the attention of Little Sophie, the Happy Ever After Saturday girl, who he’d known since they were both at primary school together and who seemed likely to return Sam’s affection though he was too dense to realise it.
Sam extricated himself from his school bag, which was almost strangling him, dumped it on the floor and collapsed onto one of the sofas. ‘Posy and I are going to look around a sixth form college this evening,’ he said wearily as if even the thought of it was exhausting. ‘Is there any cake going?’
‘You could go and ask Mattie yourself,’ Nina said. The shop was fairly quiet, just a couple of browsers, so she came out from behind the counter to perch on the arm of Sam’s sofa and prod him on the shoulder. ‘She might even have forgiven you for helping yourself to those Maltesers she needed to decorate a special-order birthday cake.’
From under his long fringe (Nina made a note to remind Posy that Sam really needed a haircut) Sam grimaced. ‘How was I to know she was planning on using Maltesers as cake decoration?’
‘Sam! You ate three whole family-sized bags.’
He groaned like he was in pain. ‘This is a very stressful year for me, I have my GCSEs. That should give me a free pass.’
Nina poked his shoulder again. ‘Nice try.’
With great effort, Sam levered himself up to an upright position. ‘If you go and get me cake, I’ll give you all the shop’s social media passwords,’ he countered with a sly smile. ‘Sebastian was going to hack into my hard disk to try and retrieve them but then Noah came round and he asked me a few questions and then I remembered the password for the program that generated all the passwords for Happy Ever After.’ Sam shook his head. ‘It was like witchcraft.’
‘Noah,’ Nina echoed in what she hoped was a casual voice. ‘Did he mention anything about what he’s been up to the last couple of days?’
‘Why would he?’ Sam folded his arms. ‘Chop, chop, Nina, that cake isn’t going to get itself.’
Much as she missed him, Nina wasn’t going to let Sam get away with such barefaced cheek. It set a dangerous precedent. ‘Or I could just tell Posy that you lost the passwords and that now you’re blackmailing me over them.’
‘You wouldn’t,’ Sam groused. ‘I never thought you’d go darkside.’
‘At least say please,’ Nina insisted.
Fifteen minutes later, Sam was happily rooting his way through a plate of pastries, and Nina had the passwords to Happy Ever After’s Twitter, Instagram and Facebook accounts. Sam had handed them over with great ceremony like he was passing on the nuclear codes and made a vague promise that he’d show Nina how to upload content to the shop’s website. She immediately logged into the Instagram account, which consisted of one blurry picture of the shop sign, which only two people had liked. With the bar set that low, even Nina should be able to raise it a little.
Then Posy poked her head around the office door to say that she and Verity were still doing the quarterly VAT return and she was longing for a quick and painless death but she should be done in half an hour tops. In the meantime, it had started to rain, which had scared off any customers.
Soon it would be time to close up the shop and usually Nina would spend this time on HookUpp to try and scare up a date for the evening. But the thought of going on a date, yet another bloody date, with some random guy, made Nina feel so tired and even a little sick to her stomach that she wondered if she was going down with something.
Maybe it was best to figure out her next non-date with Noah. She plonked herself down next to Sam so she could pinch a pistachio macaron and decided to Google a few more non-date options.
Googling ‘high adrenalin date options’ wasn’t really that helpful. As far as Nina knew there were no rollercoasters in the Greater London area. She also quickly ruled out white-water rafting, sky-diving and something called zorbing and poked Sam again.
‘I’m planning a date with a guy, you absolutely positively don’t know him, and he’s into all sorts of daredevil stuff. Like bungee jumping and extreme hiking and whatnot. Any ideas of something I can do with him?’
Sam contorted his face like he was in agony. ‘Like sex stuff?’ he spluttered.
Nina didn’t poke Sam this time but punched him hard enough that he spluttered again. ‘No! As if I would ever ask your advice about sex stuff. Never! Not in a million years!’
It took both of them a little while to recover from this miscommunication. Then Sam stirred. ‘You mean extreme-action sporty stuff that you can do on a date?’ he asked carefully.
‘I guess, but not super sporty,’ Nina replied. ‘Nothing that involves handling balls.’
Sam choked on a profiterole.
‘Get your mind out of the gutter, young man.’
‘Last summer one of my friends had his birthday party at a zipwire place in Battersea Park. They called it a treetop adventure. You all right with heights?’
‘They’re not my absolute favourite thing in the world but I can cope with the rolling ladder if someone stands underneath it,’ Nina said. ‘So I should be all right, shouldn’t I? And this random guy that you totally don’t know would be well up for a treetop adventure.’
‘Oh, Nina, this is not the answer.’ Sam swept his fringe out of his eyes all the better to give Nina a disappointed look. It was quite unnerving to see the face that Sam would wear twenty years from now if he had children and he was disapproving of their lifestyle choices. ‘Posy and Sophie and both my grandmothers say that women shouldn’t change themselves just to please a man. It’s like Feminism 101!’
‘I’m not changing myself,’ Nina protested. ‘I’m just ready to endure an hour or so of discomfort to do something that I know this random guy will enjoy. It’s called being selfless. You should try it, Malteser thief!’
Sam settled back on the sofa with a little sigh. ‘Harsh, Nina.’
‘Dude, you just tried to mansplain feminism to me, you deserved it,’ Nina said and she’d missed this, winding Sam up, so much. She was tempted to try and hug him but he’d probably suffered e
nough what with all the poking and punching. ‘So, Battersea Park, you say?’
Alas, further investigation uncovered the fact that the place was closed over winter so there would be no zipwire shenanigans among the treetops. She couldn’t help but feel as if she’d dodged a bullet or saved herself from breaking several bones.
‘Any other ideas, then?’ she asked Sam.
He munched ruminatively on a Viennese whirl. ‘I went to a laser tag party in Whitechapel once.’
Lasers. East London. High adrenalin and fashionable. ‘That could work.’ Nina nudged Sam. ‘How come you don’t go to normal teenage parties where you sneak in alcohol and get off with girls?’
‘Because I have a lot of friends with helicopter parents,’ Sam said sadly. He looked sideways at Nina. ‘Actually, I think I’ve got a voucher for the laser tag place – I’m on their mailing list. I could reserve you the tickets, if you like. Just tell me when you want to go.’
‘Oh, that’s very sweet of you.’ Nina narrowed her eyes. ‘Very sweet. Why are you being so sweet?’
‘I’m being selfless.’ Sam echoed her own words back at Nina. ‘Just like you told me to. And also, if you are going to play laser tag then you’re going to have to wear trainers.’ He looked down at Nina’s four-inch heels. ‘Do you even own a pair of trainers?’
‘I have a pair of leopard-print Converse. Will they do?’
Sam closed his eyes. ‘Just promise me that you’ll film it. Please …’
Before Nina could ask him why, Posy poked her head round the office door again, a plaintive look on her face. ‘Do we have to go to this open evening tonight? Because I have officially lost the will to live now.’
‘We don’t have to go,’ Sam agreed. ‘Although my entire future depends upon good A-level results, then getting into the university of my choice, but if you’d rather go home and watch Don’t Tell The Bride then that’s your call.’
Crazy in Love at the Lonely Hearts Bookshop Page 14