busied myself with putting the books out all morning in silence. Zach appeared again just before lunch to ask if it was a ‘good moment’ for our chat.
‘Are you firing me?’ I asked, following him downstairs to the office.
He laughed. ‘I don’t think my powers extend that far.’
Norris had gone out but it still felt an awkwardly cosy space for Zach and me to squeeze into. I hovered in the doorway as Zach lowered himself into one chair, then pulled Norris’s desk chair towards him and motioned for me to sit.
‘I’ve written a plan for the shop. I’m sorting out the website. Instagram, Twitter and all that,’ he said, scrolling down a Word document on his laptop. ‘But what I was also thinking is events.’
‘Events?’
‘Yeah, like talks. Readings. Q&As. That sort of thing. That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. Have you ever done them here?’
‘No. Can you make much money from them though? Realistically?’ A small, ungenerous part of me wanted to pour scorn on his idea.
‘It’s not just about cash. Well, it’s partly about cash. But it also means more people through the door, more sales. And we could even record them and put them out as a podcast. It’s pretty easy, I could do it on this.’ Leaning forward in his seat to gesture at his screen, his knee touched mine and I pulled it away as if he’d given me an electric shock.
‘Sorry.’
‘Have you mentioned it to Norris?’
Zach shook his head. ‘Nah, wanted to see what you reckoned first.’
‘It might work,’ I said, trying not to sound too enthusiastic although I knew it was a good idea. When I was a teenager, I’d been considered nerdy for my excessive reading. Reading on the bus into school, reading at break, reading on the bus home again. Reading had always been the only way I could stop myself from counting. But nowadays, books had become cool and nobody was called a nerd for being into them. It was fashionable to post pictures of whatever you’d just finished reading on Instagram, to listen to podcasts about books and to buy tickets for readings by the latest millennial poet. Millennial poets! I had an idea.
‘Actually,’ I said, ‘there’s a new anthology out by Fumi next month.’
Zach frowned.
‘She’s an Instagram poet,’ I explained. ‘Posts haikus. Has a pug called Percy. People are obsessed with her, and the dog. She sold about a zillion copies of her debut last year. We could try and get her for a reading. I’m not sure she’d do it but we could ask?’
‘Yeah, that’s the kind of thing,’ said Zach, pulling his phone from his jeans pocket. ‘Fuck me, she’s got nearly a million followers.’ He moved the phone closer to his face. ‘What’s she doing with that dog?’
I peered at his screen. Fumi’s latest picture was a bathroom selfie with her pug tucked under her arm. She was pouting at the camera in a purple bomber jacket. Both she and the dog were wearing sunglasses. ‘Have a #beautiful day my babies,’ said the caption, followed by a string of purple hearts.
‘Yeah, that’s her. Might be worth trying to get them for Norris’s reaction alone.’
Zach laughed. ‘Right. So do you want to check with him or shall I?’
‘You do it,’ I said, still smarting that Norris had ignored my suggestions.
The bell rang upstairs as the door opened so I stood, keen to get out of the claustrophobic space. ‘I’d better get back.’
‘OK, cool, but you think events are a good idea?’ he asked as I was halfway through the door. ‘You know this place better than me.’
I turned back, feeling a pang of guilt that I hadn’t been supportive enough. ‘Yes, all right, very good, nice work.’
‘Just call me James Bond,’ he replied with a wink.
‘Don’t push it,’ I shouted behind me.
The rest of the afternoon dragged. I ate pink wafers surreptitiously behind the till while Eugene quizzed me about my date, although I had to pause my story every time the door jangled and another customer came in. I didn’t want to give our more elderly customers a stroke.
‘I take it all back about my mother and I hereby award you nine out of ten,’ he declared, holding an imaginary paddle up at me when I’d finished my update – Eugene was a big Strictly Come Dancing fan and had recently pinned up a calendar in the stockroom so he could cross off the days until it started again.