‘Well, if you weren’t so heavy handed,’ Nina grumbled and she wanted to ask Claude to stop so she could stretch but she knew that if he stopped then she’d only have to get used to the needle all over again.
‘“Whatever souls are made of, his and mine are the same,”’ Noah read out the quote from Wuthering Heights that curled around the base of the tree trunk on Nina’s arm. ‘Ah! I didn’t get to read this properly on our first date. It was quite dimly lit and I was wearing whisky goggles.’
‘Those Old Fashioneds were lethal,’ Nina recalled.
Noah peered intently at her arm again. ‘So this quote … that’s your mission statement, is it?’
He didn’t sound sarcastic, but genuinely curious, so Nina didn’t bristle. Because although it was etched into her arm for all the world to see and although they’d spoken already about what Wuthering Heights meant to her, the quote itself was something intensely personal. It wasn’t a story many people got to hear. She’d told Claude and Marianne, of course, but even Posy and Verity thought that Nina adored Wuthering Heights only for its drama and she’d never bothered to correct them.
‘I never read the book when I was at school. Probably wouldn’t have paid attention even if we had,’ she said falteringly. ‘But then someone close to me was in an accident …’ She prayed that Claude or Marianne wouldn’t chime in with ‘You mean Paul?’ but thankfully they both stayed silent. ‘He nearly died. Was on a moped and had a collision with a lorry and ended up wrapping himself round a lamppost. We didn’t know if he was going to make it, if he’d ever walk again, so we made sure that there was always one of us at his bedside.’
Nina’s voice cracked as she talked. ‘I was supposed to be getting married in less than a month and somehow, sitting vigil, listening to the monitors beep and his slow steady breathing … it actually felt like a respite from all the wedding prep. When I thought about the wedding, I got the same nauseous feeling of panic as I did when the beeping of one of the monitors in the ICU ward would occasionally become a shrieking and doctors and nurses would run in from all directions …’ She paused and gulped.
‘So, in the end I didn’t think about the wedding at all. And anyway, the seating plan was the very last of my worries,’ she remembered. ‘In the relatives’ room was a little bookcase and the only reason I picked up the copy of Wuthering Heights was because it was the one book there that wasn’t by Len Deighton or Jack Higgins. It was hard to get into to start with and then it stopped being hard and every word resonated with me. All the thoughts and feelings I didn’t have words for were there on the page. I was all set to marry my Edgar Linton, even though I didn’t love him, I didn’t even know what love was.
‘And yes, I do know that Heathcliff is like the dictionary definition of toxic but it felt as if I was saying goodbye to ever experiencing that kind of passion. I was sitting there in a hospital only too aware of how short life can be, how it can be snatched away from you in a split second, and so I called off the wedding there and then. By text message.’
‘Nina!’ Marianne gasped, putting down the sequinned dress she was mending. ‘You never said it was by text message.’
‘Well, it’s not something I’m proud of,’ Nina said, ‘but it really felt as if there was no time left to lose. I wanted to be a girl again, “half-savage, hardy and free”. When I thought about Emily Brontë and her sisters, all trapped in that parsonage, but writing with such wild abandon, I felt that I had to start living instead of just existing. Be more like Cathy, even if I ended up broken-hearted …’
‘Or dead …’ Claude pointed out with a tiny sly smile that Nina decided to let go.
‘I was going to look how I wanted to look, eat what I wanted to eat, love who I wanted to love – do things because I wanted to do them and not because that was what was expected of me. So this tattoo symbolises all that,’ she finished and dared to look at Noah from under her lashes though she’d avoided his gaze until now.
She had his undivided attention. His gaze fixed on hers, his expression thoughtful and serious though a smile softened his features when he caught Nina’s eye. ‘I get the impression that you don’t share that story with many people so thank you for sharing it with me,’ he said. ‘For trusting me.’
‘You’ve got a very trustworthy face,’ Nina said and it seemed as if they were having a moment and all of a sudden she felt stripped bare in a way that had nothing to do with her state of undress or the secrets she’d just spilled. Time to break the spell with a quip. ‘If the business analysis thing doesn’t pan out, you could always sell life insurance.’
‘It’s good to have a plan B,’ Noah agreed evenly and she couldn’t stop looking at him, at the warmth in his green eyes, his smile …
‘OK, you two, break it up,’ Claude said and it was only now that he stopped with his bloody needles that Nina realised that she hadn’t even noticed the pain for the last half hour. ‘You should have a stretch before I start doing the colour work.’
Nina slowly sat up then gingerly stretched, keeping the arm that was a work in progress pinned to her side. She glanced down to see Claude’s handiwork. ‘It’s perfect. So much better than I ever imagined,’ she said.
‘It’s all right,’ Claude decided, as Marianne stood up and stretched herself. ‘More tea?’ she asked. ‘Nina, Noah?’
‘I should probably go,’ Noah said without much enthusiasm and without moving so much as a millimetre off the stool.
‘Don’t go,’ Nina said softly.
‘If you want me to stay …’
‘Of course she wants you to stay,’ Marianne said. ‘And as you’re not being tattooed or doing the tattooing you could even join me in some alcohol, then afterwards we’re going to order a curry from The Tiffin Tin. You don’t want to miss that.’
‘Well, I’m going to drive Nina home so I won’t have any alcohol but I wouldn’t say no to more tea.’
So, it was decided that Noah would stay.
For the last two hours of the tattooing session he asked some gentle but probing questions about how Nina and Marianne met. They told people it was at a vintage fair, ‘But really it was at a burlesque striptease class,’ Marianne admitted.
‘Not that we’re embarrassed about that,’ Nina assured Noah. ‘But it does give people the wrong idea.’
‘And neither of us could ever master twirling our pasties,’ Marianne added and Noah was so pink that it looked painful and even Claude had to set down his tattoo gun and tell them both very sternly to pack it in.
The conversation seemed to flow like the red wine that Marianne opened. It was light and easy, lots of laughing and joking, especially when the tattooing was done and Nina’s tattoo was covered up with a sterile gauze pad and clingfilm, and they’d decamped to the living room upstairs to eat their way through an Indian feast.
Even though she skewed heavily towards the bad-boy demographic and a life less ordinary, there had been times when Nina had tried to picture her one true love and she’d always come back to the same image: of this unknown man fitting in with her friends, of him sitting in Marianne and Claude’s eclectic, cluttered lounge sharing a takeaway as Nina so often did.
The three of them, Noah, Claude and Marianne, were talking about Palm Springs, how Claude and Marianne had taken a sightseeing tour on an Aerial Tramway only for Claude to realise that he was terrified of heights. Marianne was perched on a pouffe, her long legs stretched out in front of her, as she glanced over at Noah, then caught Nina’s eye and winked at her.
It occurred to Nina that as much as Posy and Verity both lamented Nina’s many and frequent dating disasters, Marianne and Claude were equally disapproving in their own way.
‘Oh no, Nina, not him!’ Marianne would invariably say if Nina introduced her to a man who’d survived the first three dates so she could loosely describe him as someone she was seeing. And Claude, who often saw fit to act like an overprotective big brother, seemed to like Noah a lot if the way he kept nodding and laughing
was anything to go by.
And Nina? She liked Noah very much. So much so that ‘like’ was an entirely inadequate way to describe how she felt about him as he carefully guided her down the stairs from the top-floor flat. She’d had one glass of red wine, after five hours of being tattooed and with pain endorphins coursing through her blood, so it had gone straight to her head and her very wobbly legs.
Noah’s hand curled around her elbow, light but purposeful, as if he enjoyed touching her. As they drove back into the centre of town, Noah’s hand brushed Nina’s leg as he changed gears because she’d curved her body towards him. She wished that the journey would never end. That they’d stay cocooned in the cosy warmth of a rented car, just the two of them, the silence comfortable.
Since when had she wanted cosy? Or comfortable?
‘So, our third date, does this mean that we can officially get down to some funny business now?’ Noah suddenly drawled, his voice doing things to Nina’s nerve endings that weren’t remotely cosy or comfortable.
‘This wasn’t a third date,’ she said sternly, because it wasn’t. There were rules about these things. ‘This was hanging out.’
‘Oh, that’s a pity. I was looking forward to more kissing,’ Noah said in the same dark voice that made Nina feel quite light-headed while other parts of her felt heavy and languid.
‘Good things are worth waiting for,’ Nina said as she fluttered her lashes. She really was absolutely hammered just from one glass of Merlot.
‘Well, I look forward to it, then,’ Noah said. It was almost as if they’d skipped a few steps, and the flirty banter had been discarded in favour of deep discussions, the sharing of intimate secrets, so actually Nina was quite happy to rewind and get her flirt on. ‘By the way, I’m back at Happy Ever After this week, but don’t you think we should keep this under wraps?’
Nina was immediately stung; it hurt even more than the dull throb in her arm. Then she remembered that she didn’t even know what this was. It changed from minute to minute, hour to hour. One moment as cosy and comfortable as an old cardigan, the next charged with fraught anticipation.
So, yeah, who even know what this thing between them was. But Nina wanted to find out. As Noah pulled the car up at the entrance to Rochester Mews, she said, ‘I’m glad we get to hang out this week.’
She turned her head to smile at Noah at the exact same time that he turned his head to smile at her. Then, shockingly, because this was also new territory, he rested his hand on her knee and it was hard to remember why she wasn’t going to do anything more with him tonight. ‘I’m glad that you’re glad.’ His voice was low, his eyes heavy-lidded as he looked at Nina. ‘How about we seal the deal with a kiss?’
Nina was already unbuckling her seatbelt so she could scoot closer to Noah even if it did mean getting very intimate with the gear lever. ‘Sounds like a plan,’ she agreed huskily.
‘They forgot everything the minute they were together again.’
When Noah arrived at Happy Ever After the next morning, Nina nodded her head vaguely in his direction as he came through the door then went back to informing Posy that she couldn’t do any book shelving until her tattoo healed.
‘I suppose I could shelve at chest level but anything higher and I have to stretch my arms and stretching my arms hurts too much,’ Nina explained.
‘Really?’ Posy asked sceptically.
‘Really,’ Verity confirmed from the office. ‘I had to help her put her bra on this morning. I’m still traumatised.’
‘Can we not talk about my personal items when there are men present!’ Nina snapped because Tom was on one of the sofas, face first in his usual breakfast panini. But Tom barely counted as a man (Nina had once sent him out to buy cranberry juice when she had a UTI) – she was more concerned about Noah, in the process of hanging up his jacket, who winked at Nina and permitted himself a small smile.
‘Sorry!’ Verity sing-songed. ‘But no heavy lifting for Nina. Honestly, Posy, her arm’s all scabby and sore.’
Nina proffered her arm at Posy who shied away from it. ‘Urgh! I don’t want to see.’ She sighed. Posy seemed to sigh a lot lately. ‘It’s a pity ’cause we do have a lot of new stock that needs shelving.’
‘I can do it,’ Tom offered, through a mouthful of panini. ‘Nina can serve. It’s all good.’
‘Anyway, I was planning to spend the morning working on the shop Instagram,’ Nina said brightly. ‘I met a woman on Saturday night who started an Instagram account for her French bulldogs and now she has over fifty thousand followers and people send her free stuff. I know we don’t want free stuff but we definitely could do with fifty thousand followers. And also, though I haven’t quite worked out how, people can click through and buy the items, which in our case would be books. Lots and lots of books.’
‘I don’t know … selling books from an Instagram post sounds amazing but it also sounds very complicated and techy,’ Posy said, her brow furrowed.
‘Just as well you’re married to someone very complicated and techy,’ Nina said as everyone, including Posy, gathered around Nina’s phone to coo over photos of Eric and Ernie. Then it was time to go about their respective businesses – Posy popping out for the monthly meeting of the Rochester Street Traders’ Association and Noah taking out his iPad and retiring to a quiet corner.
He’d only said two words to Nina: ‘Good’ and ‘morning’, but once Verity was back in the office and Tom was sorting through the delivery of new stock, he smiled at her.
‘How’s the arm? Apart from scabby and sore?’ he asked in a whisper.
‘Scabby and sore just about covers it,’ Nina whispered back. She sidled closer. ‘So, now that we’ve been on two dates and hung out, are you going to show me all the mean things you’ve been writing about us?’
‘Never!’ Noah put his iPad behind his back. ‘And I would never write mean things about you.’
Nina smiled a little coyly. ‘I should think not.’
‘Maybe some constructive criticism though,’ Noah said and Nina sidled even closer so she could pretend to punch him. She was close enough to feel the warmth of his body, which made her feel warm too. Maybe she could lure Noah into an anteroom later on, if the shop was quiet, and they could sneak a few illicit kisses.
‘What are you doing for lunch?’ she asked.
‘I have to go and meet a client.’ Noah sounded quite regretful about it. ‘Then I’m back in Soho this afternoon.’
‘Shame …’
‘What are you doing, Nina?’ Tom was suddenly on the other side of the counter with a huge pile of books in his arms and a quizzical expression on his face. ‘Are you harassing Noah?’
Nina broke away from Noah as if she’d just been scalded. ‘Of course not!’ she scoffed and put as much distance between herself and Noah as she could. ‘We were just talking about hashtags, actually. Success on Instagram is all about the hashtags.’
‘Is it?’ Tom pretended to yawn and Noah made a note on his iPad and it was business as usual, nothing to see here.
Though once Nina started on her mission to improve Happy Ever After’s Instagram page, she found it quite engrossing. Under Sam’s benign neglect, they’d only posted one picture and gained twenty-seven followers.
Mindful of Dawn’s advice, in between a desultory flow of customers, Nina followed anyone who had anything to do with book writing, book blogging and book selling, even a couple of book binders, and as many lovers of romantic fiction as she could find on Instagram, liking their posts and leaving comments. It was a massive two-hour sucking-up session but gratifyingly, it didn’t take long for Happy Ever After’s Instagram followers to swell in number.
‘We’re up to a hundred and twenty-three followers!’ she announced at one point during the morning.
‘If you’re going to keep refreshing the page and giving me follower updates every five minutes, then I’m going to hurl myself from the top of the rolling ladder,’ Tom snapped, but Noah smiled encouragingly.
‘We have almost two hundred followers on Instagram,’ Nina said, once the woman was back on terra firma with her books bagged and paid for. ‘One hundred and ninety-three to be exact. I was thinking, can we do a giveaway when we hit five hundred?’
Posy stared at Nina. Then she narrowed her eyes. ‘Have you doubled your dose of painkillers?’
‘I have not, though now you come to mention it my arm is throbbing like an engine,’ Nina noted. The sheer excitement of watching their Instagram numbers increase had completely taken her mind off the nagging pain of her fresh tattoo. ‘Why do you ask?’
‘You’re not normally this enthusiastic about work,’ Posy said, which was hurtful though actually now that Nina stopped to think about it, kind of true.
‘Actually Posy, I’m enthusiastic about some things,’ Nina protested. ‘Doing the window displays, for example.’
‘And calling first dibs when a new order of erotica comes in and that’s about it,’ Tom chimed in like the traitor he was. They were standing side by side at the counter and Nina did think about kicking him in the shin but she settled for an exasperated glance at Noah who shook his head like he couldn’t believe it either.
‘I’m very dedicated to my job,’ Nina insisted. ‘Look at me on the Instagram. That’s taking on new responsibilities, that is.’
Crazy in Love at the Lonely Hearts Bookshop Page 20