All That She Can See(25)

‘“It’s the future, love. It’s always changing.”’ Cherry repeated Sally’s words back to her and Sally’s smile widened, her expression full of affection for her friend.

‘Exactly.’

‘Do you have to book an appointment to see them?’ Cherry asked.

‘Who? Madame Velina?’ Sally said, taking Bruce’s hand in her own.

‘Is that his mother?’ Cherry asked.

‘Yes,’ Sally replied, tracing the lines on Bruce’s palm with her fingertip. ‘His aunt is Madame Danior. Their shop is usually pretty quiet so I’m sure you could just walk in and see them. Or book an appointment for later,’ she added, her voice quiet.

‘Oh, Sally. I’m not going for a reading,’ Cherry reassured her, realising she must have been hurt by the idea of Cherry wanting to see her rivals. She knelt by Sally’s chair and took her other hand. ‘I’m going to talk to them about Chase. I want to find out more about him and maybe understand why he’s suddenly got it in for me. You’re the only fortune teller I need – you’re the best one I know.’

‘I’m a silly old fool,’ Sally said, wiping away a tear. ‘Just promise me you’ll be careful with those two.’

‘Are they really that terrible?’ Cherry said.

‘They both just like to… push the boundaries.’

‘The boundaries of what?’ Cherry asked.

‘Of what is morally right.’





10





Amateur





‘Do you have anything with alcohol in it?’

If she’d had a brother, Cherry thought that he’d be a lot like George Partridge – except that George was white. But his character was playful and he had a lovely brotherly temperament that made her long for a family of her own and the two of them had a lot in common. Well, apart from Cherry’s love for reading and George being possibly the only librarian in the world who hated books.

‘It’s only just lunchtime!’ she scolded good-naturedly before fetching George’s regular treat(ment) from the kitchen. She set the Encouraging Eclair before him, hoping it would help battle the Defeat that was banging its head repeatedly against the doorframe. She looked at him thoughtfully. ‘Why are you a librarian, George? You have a new story every day about a visitor who’s wound you up. Remember last week? That girl who asked you if you could tell her about a book she’d read once but couldn’t remember the title or the author?’

‘Yes, I remember. She got cross when I said I couldn’t possibly know which book she was talking about. Threw a magazine at me,’ George said.

‘You did tell her to sling her hook,’ Cherry reminded him.

‘Maybe I deserved it. That man who calls up once a week and places his Chinese takeaway order called again yesterday. These days I just tell him it’ll be forty-five minutes and hang up.’

‘You don’t?!’ Cherry laughed.

‘I do. It’s just easier!’ George chuckled.

‘Why are you a librarian, George?’ Cherry asked again.

‘Because my mum’s one. Her mum was one. Her mum was one. And so it goes on. That library essentially belongs to every generation of my family. It just means my life hasn’t turned out anything like in the books I let everyone borrow.’ George swept his blond hair back to reveal his sorrowful blue eyes. ‘I wanted to be a vet. I love animals,’ he sighed.

‘I can tell.’ Cherry smiled at his blue and cream knitted jumper that had cats all over it. ‘So, why can’t you become a vet? It’s never too late, George.’ Cherry tried to sound encouraging but she was going to have to let the eclair do its work. George’s scrunched-up face told her he was very much done with talking about what might have been.

‘I can’t let Mum down like that. I just… can’t do it,’ he said, taking a bite out of one end of his eclair, cream sloshing out of the other. ‘Tell me, do you ever go out around here?’

‘Erm… I haven’t. Not really. I mean, I don’t often leave the… well… I could… it’s just…’ Cherry’s cheeks started burning.

‘Hey, now. No need to panic. I just never see you out anywhere other than in here and I thought you could do with a friend to show you around. Nothing more, nothing less.’ George’s face was kind. Beautiful but kind and Cherry hoped he felt that brotherly vibe towards her as much as she felt that sibling-like attachment to him. She took a breath.

‘Actually, that sounds lovely.’





‘Oh. So you wear pyjamas… everywhere?’ George said.

‘You’re one to talk. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you wear anything other than an animal jumper.’ She prodded him with one finger as she stepped out of the bakery, wearing a red cardigan and black pyjamas.

‘Touché.’

‘So where are we off to?’

‘The Gin Distillery! Probably one of the most famous things Plymouth has to offer, it’s not too far away in case you decide it’s too much and want to come home and apparently the cocktails in the bar are delicious. Thoughts?’ He offered her his arm.

‘I am rather partial to a gin and tonic. Let’s go.’