“Is there food?”
“Likely just biscuits.”
He flicked his tail.“I accept.”
“But how will you get there? I can’t take you to my shift.”
“Och, lass. Plenty of time for me to run into town while you’re at work. I know where the bookshop is. I’ll see you there.”
It looked like I wasn’t getting out of this one. Which was probably good for me, because otherwise I’d just come home and question my life choices, holed up in my bedroom all afternoon.Hastily agreeing, I grabbed my laptop, popped it in my bag, and then drove to work. Torin seemed fine with me driving during the day, and it was a welcome relief instead of having to ride next to him and worry over any awkwardness I’d created by asking for space.
My shift was busy, but normal, and despite how much I listened, I didn’t hear one person whisper about me and Torin or bring up Avery’s name at all.
It seemed that Graham’s shout to the crowd had done its job.
Maybe, just maybe, people believed the truth because they knew Torin…and they were beginning to know me again too.
I still couldn’t believe that Avery had shown up. Out of nowhere. She’d walked right in and dropped a bomb on my head in the middle of an already tricky week. That was how the universe worked, though, wasn’t it? And typically, these things came in threes. Which only introduced a whole different worry to consume my thoughts during work. By the time my shift was over, I was pretty much done peopling for the weekend and looking forward to some quiet time with Agnes.
Crossing the street from the pub to Bonnie Books, I glanced down the road toward my sister’s flat.
I should just go talk to her.
This was stupid. She was entitled to her feelings. I’d changed our pattern on her, hadn’t I? She was used to being the one who looked after me. And I’d taken that from her. If the situation had been reversed, I would have probably felt much the same. Resolved to stop by after hanging with Agnes, I opened the door to Bonnie Books and laughed as Bracken darted between my feet.
“Oh hi, I didn’t see you.”
“A crow followed me. His name is Murdoch. He says he’s worried today.”
“Och, really? Why?” My eyes darted out the window to the loch.
“Says he feels it in his feathers.”
Not sure what to do with that, I walked inside.
It was a cheerful shop, and had only grown more cozy since the last time I’d seen it. It smelled like paper, woodsmoke, and the faintest hint of cinnamon. A fire crackled in the fireplace, and bookshelves were set up in little areas around the room, with chairs that invited you to nestle in and relax. Pretty rugs were thrown over the wood floors, and the arched windows gave a view of the pub and the loch stretching out behind it.
The wee bell over the door chimed as I stepped in, the crisp autumn air giving way to warmth and lamplight.
“Liora?”
“Aye,” I said, pulling the door shut behind me.
“Just throw the lock behind you!” Agnes called. “Then come on back.”
I wove my way through the stacks, Bracken scampering along beside me.
Agnes was in the nook at the back, where she kept a mismatched cluster of armchairs and a low coffee table for book clubs and gossip. In the middle, a squat teapot had been placed with a platter of biscuits next to it.
She was curled into one of the armchairs, legs tucked under her, wearing paint-splattered trousers, auburn curls escaping a flower clip in her hair. A book lay open, face-down, on the arm of the chair beside her.
She looked up as I approached, sharp gaze scanning my face.
“Right,” she said. “You look like you’ve been run over by a herd of disgruntled coos.”
“Good to see you too,” I said weakly, shrugging out of my coat.
“Sit,” she ordered, pouring tea. “And tell me why Torin’s been moping around the town like someone stole his favorite axe.”