Page 45 of The Breakup Bookshop

‘I will.’

One of these days, I hope I understand the strange, confused mind of Rory MacGregor.

16

The sun covers every inch of my bedroom the next morning as I get ready for the boat trip. I still can’t get my head around it. One minute Rory and I are head-to-head and it feels like we’ll never be civil, the next he’s inviting me on an expedition.

I deliberate over my outfit for a silly amount of time and end up wearing a green top and the jeans that Seb always said made my bum look good. I can still hear his voice in my head as I stand in front of the mirror. He liked seeing me in pink, which also happened to be Macy’s favourite colour. Maybe she’d won him over with a flutter of the eyelashes and her collection of Barbie-inspired clothes.

I sigh. This is the problem with having a day off: it means I have – gasp – time to think. It’s just as well Finlay bullied Rory into inviting me out for the day. Too much time alone would have sent me spiralling.

I’m hardly looking forward to spending the day with Rory, but I can’t wait for the boat trip itself. Tourists visiting the shop have mentioned seeing dolphins jumping in and out of the water. Dolphins! It is so far removed from London life that I’m practically jumping up and down with excitement as I pack my things and set off down to the pier. Rory is already waiting by the time I arrive, first in the queue. In fact, he is the only one in the queue.

‘Ready?’ he asks.

I nod. ‘Looking forward to it?’

‘Can’t wait,’ he says. ‘Thanks for the ticket.’

‘No problem,’ I say, shifting from one foot to another. ‘Thanks for giving me the spare. See, isn’t this nice, being civil to each other?’

Rory almost smiles. Almost. It is more of a smirk, really, but it still counts. ‘Sure, we can stay civilized for one day.’

‘Good. Because I want to have a good time. This has been top of my to-do list since I got here.’

‘So you said.’

A few more people join the queue behind us. I recognize two of the women as the American tourists who fought over the book in my shop.

‘Oh my God,’ I hear one whisper to the other. ‘It’shim.’

‘And you!’ the other exclaims, pointing at me with an impressively long gel nail. ‘You’re the bookstore owner. You’rewithhim? You didn’t say anything.’

‘Oh, no,’ Rory says.

‘We’re not together,’ I say emphatically.

They both brighten up immediately, introducing themselves directly to Rory as Lynnette and Melissa, while the tour guide starts the safety briefing.

‘The safety briefing is pretty much don’t fall in the water, isn’t it?’ Rory mutters.

Lynnette and Melissa throw their heads back, squawking like seagulls. A family with three young excitable boys joins the end of the queue. The dad struggles to fold the toddler’s buggy, so the mum takes over and, even with the child on her hip, manages it with a flick of her foot. Their two older children jump up and down, asking if it’s time for the boat to leave as we’re ushered on board.

The white boat has seating at the back, an observation deck where a maximum of eight people can be at one time, plus a space at the very front of the boat where we are able to sit on the deck. I make my way to the front and take a seat. Rory appears behind me.

‘It’ll get pretty cold out here,’ he warns. ‘Once the boat starts moving.’

‘I don’t mind.’ I shrug. ‘It’s just lovely to be here, to see the scenery and soak it all up.’

He nods, standing still. It looks like he’s planning to stay here beside me. As the engine roars to life, we listen to the tour guide chatting through the loudspeaker about the islands that we are set to see and the wildlife we might catch a glimpse of on the way.

The wind picks up as the boat propels forward and, within minutes, it blasts me full in the face. I put on my sunglasses to shield my eyes, not from the sun but from the intensity of the wind, and pull my jacket closer around me.

‘You weren’t kidding about the wind,’ I say, as my teeth start to chatter. ‘Tears are being extracted from my eyeballs.’

He laughs. ‘Yeah, it’s a different kind of wind out here, isn’t it? Feels like it’s cutting you in half.’

‘Too right,’ I say. ‘That’s why we’re the only ones on the front deck, I guess.’