for my jangling loyalties and emotions to calm down.
‘We really must go too, Mia,’ said Hugo.
‘All right, all right,’ she said, flapping a hand at him. ‘But Jaz, I’ll ring you.’
‘Sure, babe. Any time.’
Patricia declared they’d catch a taxi to Claridge’s from the King’s Road and everyone murmured their goodbyes.
‘I’m walking that way so I’ll come with you,’ replied Rory, before leaning over to kiss me. ‘Bye, sweetheart, call me when you finish here?’
‘Sure.’
Dad hung back as the others headed down the little street towards the King’s Road.
‘Florence, darling, it’s such a coincidence, but I’ve just discovered that Zach’s about to go travelling across South America.’
‘Are you?’ I said, frowning at Zach. ‘I didn’t know that.’
‘Yeah. When I’m done here. I’ve been wanting to go to Patagonia for years to take pictures.’
‘Lunch, lunch, lunch,’ demanded Dunc, his little heels kicking against Zach’s chest.
He laughed. ‘All right, buddy, we’re off.’
‘Zach, do get my email address from Florence to look me up,’ said Dad.
‘I will, thanks.’
A high-pitched shout came from down the street. ‘Henry!’ It was Patricia, gesticulating at a dawdling taxi.
Dad nodded at her, then looked back to me. ‘Bye, darling, sorry this was so brief.’
‘That’s all right,’ I said, stepping out from the table for another hug. ‘When are you next home?’
‘Probably the wedding,’ he said, releasing me.
‘Not till then?’
‘It’s only a month or so away.’
‘True.’ I nodded at him and told myself that, at least outwardly, I had to act like a grown-up, even though I wanted to hold on to Dad’s ankles and refuse to let him leave.
‘Be good,’ he replied with a grin. ‘Great to meet you both,’ he added, waving at Jaz and Zach before hurrying towards the taxi.
‘And we’re going to get some food, aren’t we, Dunc?’ said Zach, before glancing at Jaz. ‘Anything he can’t eat?’
Jaz opened her mouth as if she was about to issue a stream of mad rules but then closed it. ‘Nah, whatever you like. But let me give you some cash.’
Zach waved a hand at her. ‘I’ve got it.’
They sauntered off and I let myself fall back against the shop’s windows with a big sigh.
‘Careful,’ warned Jaz. ‘You all right?’
‘Mmm, just tired.’
‘Families, eh?’ she said, with a sympathetic grin.
‘Yeah. Something like that. But listen, you don’t have to stay. Take Dunc home when they get back. I can manage on my own.’
‘Are you kidding? Getting to shout at all these posh people? Not a chance! Save our local bookshop!’ she croaked.
‘All right, I’ll go and get sandwiches. Any preferences?’
‘Not a sandwich. Can you get me the falafel salad from Pret? And a fork. And a handful of napkins?’
‘Your wish is my command,’ I said, as I checked my phone and saw a message from Ruby asking for Zach’s number. I ignored it and slid it back into my pocket. She’d have to wait until I’d eaten forty million calories for lunch.
Fortunately, that afternoon was less eventful. I bleated at a few more shoppers. ‘Could you sign our petition? No more rent rises! Save Frisbee Books!’ Some refused to meet my eye and slid past as if we were buskers on the Tube, rattling a bucket at them. ‘Just a name! All we need is a signature to save our bookshop! Just a name!’ I persisted. Older people were better than youth. At one point, Mrs Delaney wobbled towards us on her stick and stopped to sign, but she wanted to use her fountain pen and upended her handbag on the table before she found it. She scrawled her signature in spidery letters as Zach appeared outside and offered yet another round of tea.
‘Is this your husband?’ Mrs Delaney asked Jaz, peering up at Zach from behind her spectacles.
Jaz shook her head. ‘No, sadly not. But that is my son.’
This confused Mrs Delaney so she announced she was going inside to have a look at the books.
That was just before a small girl in a pink anorak ran up to the table.
‘Hello,’ said Jaz. ‘What’s your name?’
‘I’m Maya and I’ll be seven soon,’ she said proudly.
‘Seven! Goodness gracious me. You’ll be driving a car next.’
A harassed man appeared behind her. ‘Maya, you can’t run off like that. Sorry,’ he added, looking apologetically at Jaz.
‘That’s all right,’ she replied. ‘D’you want to sign the petition? It’s for saving the bookshop.’
‘Er, yes, go on then,’ he said, picking up a pen with a shy smile.
He had a completely smooth face, as if he’d never had to shave, and sandy-coloured hair that stuck