Just The Way You Are(39)

Irene peered at him over the top of her glasses.

‘Can we take some more out, please?’

‘That is what the library is for.’

‘Yes, I know, but can one of the library ladies read them to us first again so we know what the funny voices are and if we like the story or if it’s boring or not?’

Chloe gave him a nudge.

‘Pleeeeaaaase.’

Irene searched the library until she found me, already hitching my bag on my shoulder. ‘Sorry, I’m in a rush today.’ I offered an apologetic smile, but the only thing I was sorry about was not having time to stay and hear Irene’s funny voices.

‘Please, Mrs Library Lady, you have to!’

‘It is your job, after all,’ Trev added, grinning.

‘Well.’ Irene cleared her throat, her thumb rubbing the dressing on her burnt hand. ‘I have a lot of very important things to do.’

‘What things?’ Hudson asked. ‘There’s no one else even here.’

‘Things like… replacing your books on the shelves.’

Hudson picked up the stack of books that had been checked back in using the automatic machine, and carried them over to the children’s section. ‘We’ll help you, then you’ll have time.’

Chloe leant forwards. ‘ I know you have a ton of things to do, but they’d be so pleased if you could squeeze in just a couple. They’ve been telling everyone about how brilliant the library is, what great books it has and how the women who work here are really nice.’

‘I’m the only woman who works here at the moment,’ Irene replied, stiffening her shoulders.

Chloe beamed. ‘Well, they must definitely have meant you, then, mustn’t they?’

‘Oh! Well. I could probably make time for one.’

The children let out a noisy cheer.

‘On the condition that you behave yourselves.’

I opened the door to go, stepping back as two more families were about to enter.

‘Are we too late for the Library Lady’s stories?’ one girl asked as she rushed past.

‘No, you’re just in time.’

I couldn’t resist dawdling long enough to see Irene Jenkins perched on a cubed seat, her knees up near her elbows as she turned the page of a giant picture book about bugs.

As she read the first page, the words coming out in a nervous croak, two of the younger children gasped.

‘See, I told you they do dead good voices!’ Hudson said, nudging the boy next to him.

Irene glanced up, blinking a few times before resuming the story, now deliberately using a reedy, feeble tone.

But I didn’t hang about for long. For some reason, seeing Irene with the children made me think of Mum, so I shook off the ache of painful memories, set my mind on the future and turned my feet towards my new home.





According to the No-Man Mandate, I had to put the same effort into each item on the Dream List as if I was doing it with my Dream Man. That meant preparing for my romantic night in with a long shower, extensive hair removal and a ‘radiant glow’ face mask. I did a quick clean of the house, changed the bedsheets and slipped into my new outfit, including lingerie I’d ordered online earlier that week. Given that this was the first time I’d ever tried non-supermarket underwear, I’d bought two differently sized sets of the tiny, lacy knickers and matching bra, one black and one dark red.

Deciding the black set was a better match with the charcoal jumpsuit, I curled my hair and applied a heavy layer of dark grey eyeshadow and swiped a glossy layer of Plum Passion across my lips.

Finishing off the look with the silver heels I’d worn as Steph’s bridesmaid, I tottered downstairs to start prepping.

An hour later, I had the lights down low, a moody ballad warbling and a table set for one. Having Nesbit trailing me around the kitchen as I wrapped dates with bacon and pan-fried two pieces of salmon (because Bigley Tesco Express didn’t sell a single fillet and I thought Nesbit may as well benefit) helped me feel a tiny bit less weird, but I still wasn’t sure if going to all this palaver for a night in alone was empowering or just plain pitiful.

By the time I’d drunk a large glass of wine and eaten the bacon canapés, I’d ditched my impractical shoes and switched to a girls’ night in playlist and had decided that I should do this every Friday night. Well, every Friday night I didn’t have anything else to do, anyway. Hopefully at some point I’d have some friends to hang out with at the weekend, as per Dream List item ten.

I slid the salmon onto a plate, added a spoonful of buttery new potatoes and half the fancy salad I’d picked up from the deli counter at the Hatherstone Hall farm shop, and sat down to eat, facing the kitchen window, Nesbit curled up underneath the table.

Three mouthfuls in, there was a knock on the front door, sending Nesbit into a flurry of barking as he skidded up and down the hallway. I checked my phone – it was just after eight. Not unsociably late. But the only person who’d called unannounced since I moved in was Leanne, and Joan had told me they were having a movie night this evening. My anxiety twitching, I went to answer it, trying to avoid standing on Nesbit, still doing his very best impression of a ferocious guard dog.

When I opened the door, Nesbit entered a whole new level of excited, announcing this awesome visitor with a victory sprint around the entire house, including up the stairs.