at them.
‘You too,’ they shouted, as I led Rory through the hall and opened the front door.
‘See you soon, I hope?’ he asked, turning back to kiss me again.
‘Sure,’ I said, smiling, which was a casual way to put it when every cell in my body was screaming ‘YES, YES, WHAT ABOUT TOMORROW? ARE YOU FREE TOMORROW, OR THE NEXT DAY, OR THE DAY AFTER THAT? OR HOW ABOUT FOR EVER? ARE YOU FREE FOR EVER?’
He left, his jacket slung over his shoulder, and I went back to the kitchen.
‘A magnificent evening, hey?’ said Ruby, still sitting on the counter. ‘You need to tell us everything right now.’
They got the edited version while I drank my coffee and made my lunch. ‘Nice dinner, no awkward silences, home,’ then, ‘yes, OK, we slept together.’ It felt strange talking to them about sex when I never had before.
‘And?’ pushed Mia. ‘Come on, I need more than that. Hugo and I normally only do it on Sunday mornings before golf and even then it’s quite quick because he never wants to miss the first tee.’
‘And nothing. It was nice,’ I said, wrapping my sandwich in clingfilm while trying to banish the mental image of Hugo having sex in his Pringle golf socks.
‘Nice?’ said Mia. ‘Just nice? Flo, a cup of tea and a piece of cake is nice. You can do better than that.’
I slid my lunch into my bag and headed for the hall, but shouted back at them over my shoulder. ‘All right, it was amazing, he spun me about like an Olympic gymnast and we did it again this morning. OK, got to go, see you guys later, bye!’
‘I’m going to tell Pat!’ Ruby shouted as I closed the door behind me.
I walked to work, thoughts rolling around my head like lottery balls.
Good things about Rory: he was hot, funny, clever, ambitious.
Bad things: ‘COWABUNGA!’
I could still hear him shouting it. But I had very little to compare last night’s performance to. Maybe that’s what everyone was doing these days? Maybe it was a thing?
I pushed open the shop door just as I remembered what I’d written on my list: ‘Oh my God, James Bond!’ I’d written ‘Bottom and sexual athleticism of James Bond’ on my list and admittedly I had fairly limited experience, but Rory had definitely put in an energetic performance. Twice.
‘I’m flattered but it’s Zach,’ said Zach, lowering his camera from his face.
I shook my head. ‘Sorry, ignore me, I was just thinking about… something.’
‘About James Bond?’
‘Sort of. Long story. Why are you in so early?’
‘Better light at this time of morning,’ he said. ‘Plus, I’m not in anybody’s way. You all right?’
‘Yes,’ I snapped. ‘How come?’
‘You look terrible.’
‘Thanks.’
‘Sorry,’ he replied. ‘Just a bit pale,’ he added, circling a finger around his own face.
‘I’m hungover,’ I said, dropping my bag behind the till.
Zach swivelled to face me. ‘Of course! The big date! How was it?’
‘Good, thank you.’
‘Sorry,’ he said again, sensing my coolness. ‘Being nosy. And sorry about yesterday too. I didn’t mean to be flippant.’ He held his hands up in the air as if surrendering. ‘It’s none of my business.’
‘That’s all right,’ I said, because it was the simplest answer and I didn’t want to talk to him. I needed a coffee.
The door jangled as the day’s deliveries arrived. Five boxes of books.
‘Can I have a chat to you about something?’ Zach asked once I’d signed for them.
‘Now?’
‘Or later if you’d prefer. Nothing urgent.’
‘Can we do it closer to lunch? I need to set this lot out,’ I said, gesturing at the boxes.
‘Sure. I’ll get out your way,’ said Zach. He went downstairs and I opened the drawer under the till for the Stanley knife. I ran it across the first box, pulled out as many books as I could with one hand and started scanning them into the system. I arranged them in even piles in front of me before reaching back into each box. Hardback fiction, non-fiction, paperback fiction, non-fiction. ‘Two, four, six, eight,’ I mumbled, double-checking each pile.
‘Why d’you do that?’ said Zach, reappearing on the stairs a few minutes later.
‘What?’
‘Count everything.’
I shrugged. ‘Just a habit.’
He put a mug down in front of me. It was coffee. ‘I heard you doing it while I was taking pictures yesterday and I was wondering if it was some sort of system you have. Anyway, here you go. Thought you could do with it.’
‘Thanks,’ I said simply.
Eugene was at his Romeo and Juliet audition so I