The Secret Life of Evie Hamilton - Catherine Alliott [95]
‘I loved this. A sharp, sexy romp’ Daily Mail
‘A wise, funny book, beautifully written’ Northern Star
‘What a find! Who is Bella Edgeworth? I want to have her babies!’ Mark Cox, Daily Express
I gaped in horror. ‘Join the fucking queue!’ I shrieked, dropping the book like a hot coal. I sprang from my seat and shrank back from it, gazing at it as it lay there on the floor.
‘Arghhhh!’ I roared, as, fists clenched, I ran and jumped on it. Childish. I did a little stamping on it, like a Russian Cossack. Totally immature. Then I kicked it, as hard as I could, to the back of the shop, and my bare toe in its flip-flop caught the edge of the counter. Painful. I screamed out in agony as the book spun into the doorway of Malcolm's back room. ‘Shitshitshit!’ Clutching my foot, and hopping across to the chair, I collapsed into it. And then, predictably, and for the third time recently – I didn't earn my childhood nickname for nothing and my toe really hurt – I burst into tears.
It was quite a noisy outburst, with a fair amount of shuddering and vivid dramatic accompaniment, but I got relatively quickly to the catchy breath, hiccupy stage that heralded an end in sight. All cried out, perhaps. I cradled my toe in my lap, whimpering softly. Was it broken? I wiggled it gingerly. No. Don't think so. I was almost disappointed. I did a bit more shuddering, coughed a bit more… then froze, mid-gulp. Coughed? I wasn't coughing. A deep throat-clearing noise came again.
‘Who's there?’ I sat bolt upright.
Out of the shadows, halfway down the shop, and from behind the archway, came a tall dark figure. He was frowning at his shoes, hands in pockets.
‘Oh. You!’
‘I, um, didn't know whether to…’ He began gruffly.
‘How long have you been there?’
‘Well… a while, I suppose.’ He looked up, defensively. ‘I came in through the back. My office has a door to the yard. You and Malcolm were talking, and it seemed inappropriate to announce myself. I didn't like to—’
‘You were listening!’
‘Well, not intentionally,’ he spluttered. ‘I can assure you I've got better things to do, but these walls are very thin and there didn't seem to be a convenient moment when I could declare my presence.’ He looked at me defiantly then his eyes slid away. ‘And it appeared to be… quite a personal conversation. But then, when you were… you know.’ His brow puckered. He looked uncomfortable. ‘Just now. I couldn't just sit there and listen, so…’
‘No,’ I said quickly. He really did look uncomfortable. Awkward, even. ‘No, I understand.’ I gulped and rummaged around in my bag for a tissue. Pulled out something of a more intimate nature. Shit. I dropped it and used my sleeve instead. ‘Well, then,’ I forced a bright smile. ‘There you have it. If you were paying attention, which I'm sure you were, you'll know that the mad woman who parades in kinky underwear at her bedroom window, sucking bed-knobs and throwing lubricant at cars before reversing into them, is married to a man who's ex-girlfriend is not only beautiful and famous, but has recently pitched up with his lovechild. No excuse for such terrible histrionics in a bookshop, I agree, but perhaps at least it goes some way to explaining it.’ I flashed him another thin smile. Used my sleeve again to wipe my nose. Saw snot. Attractive.
He shrugged and moved cautiously my way, head still bent, hands in pockets. ‘It… fills in a few gaps.’
I nodded bravely. Gave a last mighty sniff. Waved a dismissive hand at the book on the floor. ‘That's her,’ I said bitterly.
He stooped. Picked it up. ‘Bella Edgeworth. So I heard.’ He looked inside the back cover.
‘If you whistle, or say “tasty”, I will go outside and torch what remains of your car,’ I snarled.
His mouth twitched. ‘Well, it's a hire car – mine's at the garage being fixed – so help yourself.’ He put the book down. Looked at me. ‘You all right?’ His determinedly brisk tone betrayed kindness. Not good for me. I felt my chin wobble. I nodded wordlessly, my face full of snot and tears. Hands in pockets, he came slowly to the counter where I was sitting.
‘I, um, met her, actually.