Page 21

Our house smells amazing when Joel and I eventually get home, which is usually a sign that Gio is in the kitchen.

Mum and Mutti have him over a couple of times a month, and a few years ago he gently suggested that he take over the cooking when he comes.

It turned out he’s a phenomenal chef, so now my parents buy the ingredients and let him do his thing.

I come in to find him standing over the stove with two steaming pans in front of him.

“Hey, Laurie.” He waves a wooden spoon at me. “How does mango chicken curry and coconut rice sound?”

“Sounds amazing.”

I drop my bag and give him a hug. We left the house in such a hurry that I haven’t eaten since breakfast, except for some crisps and biscuits that Tilly brought to the barn earlier in the afternoon, and my stomach growls at the sight of the curry.

“Where are my mums?”

“Still in the shop. They had a few things to finish up, so they told me to head over and get started.” Gio waves a wooden spoon at Joel, who has come in after me. “Where have you two been this afternoon?”

I glance at Joel. “Out to see some friends. Joel picked me up.”

“Yeah, I’ve been studying all afternoon so I thought it would be good to get out for a bit.

” Joel’s voice is higher than usual and he keeps scratching at the dent in the kitchen counter where Mutti dropped a cast-iron pan years ago.

“Plus, I don’t drive at all when I’m at uni so I’m trying to fit in a bit of practice. ”

One thing I’ve learnt about lying is that it’s best not to overexplain. Joel clearly hasn’t picked up on that, but fortunately Gio doesn’t seem to notice anything unusual.

“Good. I’m glad you’re taking a break.” He tastes his sauce, then adds a bit more curry powder. “I’ve made a dairy-free tiramisu for dessert so I hope you two are hungry.”

Joel and I set the table, and Mum and Mutti come in a few minutes later. My shoulders tense when I hear the door open, worried that the awkward atmosphere back at the shop will have followed them home, but they relax when I hear Mutti’s loud, crow-like laughter.

“Hi, duckies.” She unwraps the scarf from around her neck and drapes it over the back of a chair. “Good afternoon?”

I glance at Joel. “Um, yeah. Nothing special.”

“Yup. Yup.” Joel nods about ten times in a row. “Just a regular Saturday.”

Dinner feels so normal that I almost start to wonder if I imagined our strange afternoon with the unicorn.

Mutti tells us more about her events in London – the interviewer who got the hiccups and went beetroot-coloured trying to hold them in, the audience member who had “more of a comment than a question” then rambled on about Henry VIII for five whole minutes.

Gio gives us an update on his triathlon training and makes us laugh telling us about a customer who came in asking for a specific book with a scarlet cover, only to remember it was actually green after Gio had spent twenty minutes searching the shop for anything with a hint of red.

“What about you two?” Mum looks around the kitchen. “You tidied up well after all those parties, I see.”

Joel forces a laugh. “Yeah, we did a pretty good job.”

“It was fine,” I say. “A totally normal week.”

We fall into silence, both worried that we’ll give something away if we speak too much.

It seems so obvious to me that there’s something we’re keeping from them, but Mutti and Mum are distracted and don’t notice.

Once we’ve finished eating, Mum makes teas and coffees for everyone and Mutti gets a half-eaten box of chocolates down from the cupboard.

I challenge Joel to a thumb war for the last strawberry one, but he smiles and tells me to have it.

“Listen, kids, we’ve got something to tell you.” Mum has a strange, sad smile on her face. Mutti puts her hand on top of hers and squeezes it. “Mutti and I talked a lot while we were down in London, and we’ve made a decision.”

The chocolate slips from my fingers. All the tension, the snapping, the weird looks – I know what this means. A lump bobs up in my throat and tears start to prickle at my eyes. “You’re splitting up, aren’t you?”

“Of course not, darling!” Mum reaches out with her other hand and takes mine in hers. I catch my breath and blink back the tears, feeling relieved but also silly. “But it is bad news – we’re going to have to close the shop.”

“ What? ” The word comes out as a shriek. “Mum, no!”

Mutti’s face is grim. “We’ve just not been bringing in enough money since the tourist boats stopped coming. Honestly we’re in a lot of debt, and we don’t want it to get any bigger.”

“That’s why I was in London this week. I had a few meetings with a chain that I thought might want to take it over, but it doesn’t look like it’s going to work out.” Mum gives a heavy sigh. “So I think it’s time to say goodbye.”

My eyes start to water all over again. I’ve known for a while that this news could be on its way, but that doesn’t make it any less painful to hear.

Mum opened the shop when I was five. I’ve grown up between those bookshelves, whiling away Saturday mornings reading in a comfy chair as my parents worked.

There’s not much left in this town to be proud of, but I’ve always been really proud that my family owns Every Book & Cranny.

“What about Gio?” I ask, suddenly feeling bad that I didn’t think of him first. “What will you do?”

“Don’t worry about me. Liv warned me this was likely a few weeks ago, so I already have a couple of interviews lined up.” He ruffles my hair. “I’m sad it’s closing, of course. But I’ll still be around to cook for you once a fortnight. I need to make sure you’re getting at least one decent meal.”

“What are you going to do for work, then?” Joel asks Mum, after she and Mutti have defended their cooking skills. My brother’s voice is gruff and sad. He loves the shop too.

“I’ll find something to tide us over for the next few months, but long-term… I’m not sure. Maybe I’ll go back to university, study something new.”

“You could go to St Andrews,” Mutti says, grinning. “Go partying with Joel.”

Joel gives a short laugh. “Please don’t.”

“Don’t worry, darling. My party days are over.” Mum gives us both another wobbly smile. “But it’ll be fine. This change could be a good thing. For all of us.”

Mutti nods and puts her arm round Mum’s shoulders.

Their eyes are glassy and it makes mine sting harder.

I know Mum’s putting on a brave face for me and Joel.

Owning a bookshop was always her dream, and she worked so hard to make it happen.

There’s no way she’s happy to let it go, even if it gives her the chance to try something new.

I know I’ll start crying if I sit around talking any longer, so I offer to do the dishes.

Memories from the shop flicker through my mind as I scrub our plates.

I had my seventh birthday party in there – Mutti ordered cupcakes decorated like my favourite books from Robbie in the bakery.

Another time, Tilly and I built a fort out of paperbacks in the children’s section.

Mum was annoyed about it at first, but the customers didn’t mind.

Some of them even helped us with the roof.

I’m so lost in thought that it’s a while before I notice someone outside.

A person dressed in a long coat and hat stands on the pavement on the other side of our street, staring at the house on the corner where the little kid with the imaginary bunny friend lives.

There’s something strange about the figure.

Perhaps it’s a trick of the light, but I can’t tell what colour their clothes are.

They seem to have no real hue at all, not even the palest beige.

“Joel?” I say, turning to look at him. “Joel, can you come here?”

My brother gets up with a panicked look in his eye. Mutti watches him curiously, but she’s listening to Gio talk about the book he’s reading and doesn’t comment. When I look back through the window, the person has disappeared. A shiver runs through me.

“What’s wrong?” Joel whispers. “Is it Neon?”

I shake my head. “Nothing, sorry. False alarm.”

He gives me a dubious look, but shrugs and sits down again. I shake off the unsettled feeling and tell myself I’m imagining things. Joel and I have had enough weirdness to put up with in the last twenty-four hours. We don’t need any more.