Page 42 of The Breakup Bookshop

Donna offers me the widest grin. Eilidh stands with Harry and Caden, who elbow each other as she reminds them to behave. I lock eyes with Rory for a moment as he offers me another nod. I clear my throat. I start by thanking everyone for coming, Fiona for the food, gesturing around the shop and saying vague breathless thanks for the help I received with the joinery, the plumbing. But I feel at a distance, as though I’m looking at myself from above. I try to centre myself.

‘One of the things that has struck me since I’ve been in Ullapool is how much I’ve enjoyed connecting with every single person and hearing about your stories,’ I say, pausing for a moment and taking a deep breath – in… and out. I continue: ‘Whether it’s how much Pete loves delivering the post because itkeeps him young, or Fiona’s daily update on the shenanigans of the sheep next door, or Finlay telling me about his latest,very dangerousclimbing adventure, I love stories. Stories connect us all, and when we share our own, it brings us closer together.

‘I’ve also been really moved that people have shared some special moments with me. Donna and Pete have given me permission to mention Elise, a much-loved parent and wife, who passed away recently, and have told me how much she would have loved this bookshop. My own granny, Agnes, who lived in Ullapool, would have been thrilled that I fulfilled my promise of returning to live here one day, especially to open a bookshop. It was Granny who fostered my love of books and reading.’

I take a deep breath as I feel tears in my eyes. I don’t want to cry. Not here, not now, with everyone looking at me. The room is still as I clear my throat again.

‘A couple of us have been meeting up to talk about books and share our own stories recently. We’d love to extend the invitation for others to join us, now that The Next Chapter bookshop is officially open for business. We’ll be hosting book clubs and author events too, but this is a little bit different, more of a support group. If you’d like a shoulder to cry on, for any reason at all, be it a bereavement or that bastard of an ex, we’d like to welcome you to meet with us here on Monday evenings at seven o’clock for The Next Chapter support group. Anyone can come with their problems – they don’t have to be romantic – or you can come just for a chat. The first one will be next week to let me get my feet under the till. For one night a week, we’ll be the breakup bookshop!’

There’s a ripple of knowing laughter and a few cheers at the announcement. I meet eyes with Rory across the crowd. He was right. The Ullapool bookshop breakup and grief support group was a bit of a mouthful. The breakup bookshop rolls off the tongue much more easily. He’s among the throng, and I can’t see his reaction to me using his words.

I exhale and finish my speech. ‘Thank you everyone for coming along this evening. Please eat, drink and be very merry!’

Phew. It’s over. The room erupts with applause as I step back and smile. My whole body is shaking, but I did it.

*

‘Ava, we have another recruit for our group!’ Donna calls over, gesturing with jazz hands to Fiona, who blushes and says she’d love to come if we’re happy to hear the witterings of an ‘auld bird’ like her.

A series of ‘not at alls’ follow, as I grin at them.

The evening is full of chatter, exchanges of book recommendations and laughter. As it draws to a close, people congratulate me, many laden with books they’ve bought, and I wave them off with a grateful smile. Even Margaret manages to get into the spirit of the launch and approaches me on her way out.

‘Thank you for coming,’ I beam at her.

‘Your downstairs toilet didn’t flush,’ she says, raising an eyebrow as she shuffles out of the shop.

Fabulous.

Okay, so not everyone is swept up in the excitement.

I spot Rory speaking to Finlay in the back corner. He is standing with his back to the room.

‘Rory!’ I call.

He doesn’t hear me, so I make my way over to them.

I nipped out earlier to buy a little thank you present for Rory’s help with the bookshop last night: tickets for the Summer Isles boat trip he’d mentioned he’d loved when he was younger. Gripping the tickets, I march towards them.

I raise my hand, preparing to tap on his shoulder for attention, when something stops me in my tracks. Rory is speaking in a more charged tone than normal, and I wait a few paces away from them.

‘People don’t comehereto talk about their feelings,’ I hear him say. ‘This place is an escape from that. It’s quiet. We help one another. We move on and we keep to ourselves. It’s not like you want the whole village knowing your business, is it?’

Finlay’s eyes widen as he tries to alert Rory to the fact that I am behind him, but Rory’s on a rant, and he isn’t about to pause any time soon.

I feel my face heat up. I am rooted to the spot, unsure of my next move.

‘And then there’s that fucking mural that she ruined in twenty minutes because she didn’t check her bloody bath worked. I come along in the middle of the night to fix it for her, and she hasn’t even mentioned it tonight. Not once. This is just like her. Forgetting everything – or not caring. God, I’m an idiot!’

My body slumps. I knew there was something I’d forgotten to say in my speech. I’d written a special thank you to Rory but then got sidetracked by the breakup bookshop idea and hadn’t gone back to it. My nerves got the best of me. I wish I’d rehearsed, but the flood got in the way. Plus, I’d barely slept the night before. He knew all that. But, dammit, I know I should have said something.

I can’t do anything about that now, though. I can’t call everyone back and declare, ‘And you’d probably all be standing in a foot of water if it weren’t for Rory!’

Finlay, his pale face matching his red hair with vicarious embarrassment, gestures at me over Rory’s shoulder.

Rory looks sheepish.

I thrust the tickets out towards him. ‘Here.’