Page 16 of Be Less Panda

‘I’m pleased to see you’ve recovered,’ he said. ‘Mostly,’ he added as she winced when the shop door slammed shut behind a customer on their way out.

‘I underestimated how strong some of the drinks were. I assume you didn’t.’

‘No, I don’t usually drink,’ he said.

‘That’s very sensible. I should probably give it up, too.’ Nancy felt uncharacteristically flustered in his presence. ‘Let’s see if we can findBleak Housefor you,’ she said, changing the subject. ‘It should be here.’

She headed towards the shelf of Victorian novels. They looked at the spines together. Now he was standing close to her, she could smell him, too. No aftershave, but a pleasant manly smell mixed in with soap. It reminded her of Billy.No, don’t think about Billy.She started to feel a warm glow in all the right places.

‘I can’t see it,’ he said.

‘Neither can I. It looks as if we’ve sold out.’

‘Perhaps you could order me a copy?’

‘Yes, of course. Follow me.’ The warm glow had been getting stronger - Nancy was glad of the opportunity to move away from him. She headed for the cash desk.

‘Everything ok?’ Madame Dubois asked.

‘Yes,’ Nancy replied. ‘This gentleman would like to order a book.’

Madame Dubois smiled. Usually, she dealt with any customer admin, but today, she handed Nancy the order book. ‘I need to make a phone call. You can deal with it, Nancy,’ she said, turning around and heading to the back of the shop before Nancy could object.

Damn. That would involve looking down to fill out the order pad, which would still be painful. Nancy was going to have to tough it out.

There were three sheets for every order: the customer copy on top, the warehouse copy underneath and finally, the bookshop copy at the bottom, which remained in the book. She knew how odd it must look as she peered down her nose, trying to get the flimsy blue sheets of carbon paper in position without tilting her head forward.

‘Would you like me to do that?’ the man offered.

He must think she was a fool. ‘No, I’ll manage, thank you.’

The throbbing pain was so intense it made her feel sick. She took a deep breath in a bid to make the nausea go away.

‘Perhaps if I wrote my name and phone number for you,’ he said.

Nancy gratefully handed him the book and pen. He neatly printed his details and handed it back to her.

She glanced at what he’d written. Hans Schmidt. That sounded German rather than Dutch.

‘We share the same surname,’ Nancy said.

‘You’re German?’ Hans looked puzzled.

‘Nein,’ Nancy replied, using one of the few German words she knew. ‘I meant I have the English equivalent.’Why are you telling a complete stranger your name?

‘Of course, I understand,’ he nodded. Nancy was jealous of his ability to move his head so painlessly.

She managed to fill out the book title, but finding the price in the catalogue was going to be more challenging. She felt around under the counter for it. It should be the thickest book. She was in luck - it was on the top of the pile. She pulled it out without bending her neck, hoping that nothing was on top of it, then gently put it down on the counter. Mission accomplished. But how was she going to look through the long lists of books without learning forward? Fortunately, Hans sensed her dilemma. ‘Shall I look for you?’

‘That would be very kind.’ She eased the catalogue across the counter towards him. ‘The fiction section is at the back. The books are listed alphabetically by author’s surname.’

Hans efficiently flicked through the catalogue and found the entry for the paperback edition ofBleak House. He held it up at Nancy’s eye height, pointing to the catalogue number and the price.

‘Thank you so much.’ She smiled in relief. He smiled back.

The order form was complete now. Thank god that was over. There was just the loud ring of the till to deal with when she took his payment. He produced his wallet, counting out the exact money in francs. At least she wouldn’t have to worry about getting the correct change out of the till drawer.

‘Merci beaucoup, Nancy,’ he said as she handed him the top copy of his order. ‘You will give me a telephone call?’

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