The Christmas Bookshop(44)

‘There’s a shop up the road will sort you out.’

Oke blinked.

‘Thanks, man.’

‘Your tea,’ said the waitress, and passed a small cup over to Oke, who looked pleased to put his hands round it to warm them, and paid with a five-pound note. He received very little change back.

Carmen watched it happen in disbelief. He’d been short-changed.

‘I’m sorry,’ she said, unable to help herself. Her voice went wobbly and unreliable. ‘I don’t think you’ve given this man all his change?’

It felt like the shop had gone silent. Everyone was looking at her.

The waitress blushed bright pink at being addressed by the person she had indeed assumed to be Blair Pfenning’s girlfriend, and had been wondering what exactly this totally normal-looking person had that she didn’t have, and actually it had been making her think even better of lovely Blair for stooping to go out with someone that just looked like anybody, that wasn’t in expensive clothes or super-thin or anything. It just showed what an amazing, super guy he was deep down inside, like Pierce Brosnan, and made her love him more than ever.

‘Um, sorry?’ she said, flushing from pink to bright red, her eyes darting to the till.

‘Well, you gave him a cup of tea and didn’t give him any change.’

Oke looked at her with amused eyes, and Carmen wondered with a horrible icy chill if she had perhaps got it wrong.

‘Yes, it’s a suspended cup?’ said the girl, looking terrified.

‘What’s that?’

‘It’s … um … when you buy a cup of tea or coffee along with your normal stuff for someone, like a homeless person, who can’t afford one. Then any time someone can come in and ask for one?’

Carmen felt horribly embarrassed, as if the entire shop was still staring at her, as indeed it was. Oke wasn’t saying anything at all, just staring at the ground, at his wet trainers, in huge contrast to Blair’s shiny wellingtons.

Blair looked up suddenly.

‘Well, that’s an awesome idea,’ he said, completely surprising Carmen, and flashing his toothy grin to the shop. ‘Here, I want ten suspended hot chocolates.’

At this all the focus turned to him, and there was practically applause. Blair beamed his shiny smile again and flashed his gold bank card once more. Oke, normally so chatty, took his tea, smiled briefly at Carmen and left.

‘Wait!’

She felt terrible, absolutely awful. Both at accusing the shop girl – God, could she ever drink their lovely hot chocolate again? – but worse, she had accused Oke of being a rube, of not knowing what he was doing.

She caught up with him in the snowy street, the sound of everything muffled, no cars passing.

‘Oke!’

He turned round. She had forgotten to put her coat on and was shivering.

‘Look at you,’ he said. ‘You’re dressed worse than I am.’

He immediately went to take off his jacket and give it to her.

‘No, I don’t need it … I’m so sorry,’ said Carmen.

‘I don’t know why you’re apologising to me,’ said Oke.

‘Because I made it look as if you didn’t know what you were doing. Sorry.’

He shrugged.

‘Okay. Have you apologised to Dahlia?’

‘Who’s … ? Oh. The waitress.’

He nodded.

‘You slightly accused her of stealing?’

‘Oh God,’ said Carmen. ‘I always do this. I just dive straight in and speak and get myself into so much trouble.’

Oke smiled.

‘Have you ever thought about not doing that?’

‘All the time,’ she said, looking up at him. The snowflakes were settling on his hair. ‘But usually it’s exactly five seconds after I just said the thing that got me into trouble.’

He looked serious.

‘Well. Okay. You’re cold; are you sure you won’t take my coat?’

‘Don’t be ridiculous – you aren’t wearing enough as it is.’

‘Well, I’m glad you care,’ he said.

‘Did they not tell you in Brazil it was going to be cold here? Are Quakers not allowed Christmas, birthdays and weather?’

He laughed. She glanced over her shoulder into the shop. Blair was staring at his phone and frowning and sneaking looks at her.

‘I should go,’ she said. ‘Um, what are you up to?’

‘I am going to the Quaker house. They have a meeting there, and a homeless drive.’

‘Cor. You really are very Quakery.’

‘I’m not really,’ he said. ‘Well, apart from the Christmas thing. Loads of Quakers celebrate that. We just never got the habit. But sometimes it is … comforting. In a foreign land. To sit among brethren, doing familiar things. You don’t have to believe all of it. And it is good to sit among silence sometimes.’

‘I can see that,’ said Carmen. She frowned and remembered something she’d read somewhere. ‘Hang on. Is it true that Quakers can’t lie?’

‘Yes,’ said Oke. ‘Although that may be a lie.’

He saw her face.

‘I am joking of course. Then I am going to visit my favourite tree.’