Page 6 of Strawberry Moon
He waves a careless hand. “Well, there were a few obstacles and the usual misunderstanding at the three-quarter mark.”
“What obstacles?”
“She fell in the road and got hit by a car.”
“Oh mygod. I don’t feel happy at doing that. I mean, I adore Harry, but I don’t want to maim myself in the pursuit of love. I like all my limbs where they are, and I’d never suit a hospital gown. The blue would wash me out.”
“It was just a brief knock. Enough to have her confined to bed and for him to nurse her. And of course, for the one-bed trope to come into play.”
“Onebed,”I breathe. “How stupendous. I coulddefinitelydo that.” I drift into a haze of Harry and I rolling around on a nice sturdy bed. I refocus when my grandad clears his throat. “But I’m not sure it’ll work.”
He takes the book out of my hand and pops it in his bag. “It will. I’ll renew it for another month. You borrow it and see what you think.” He stands up. “Right, I’m off to the library.” He taps his nose. “But this is between you and me. You know your grandma doesn’t approve of my schemes.”
“That’s because she’s the wise one in your marriage.”
He winks. “See you later, lad. Fish pie for tea if you fancy calling in.”
“Of course. Mum’s making bolognaise.”
We both shudder, because someone really should ban my mother from cooking for humane reasons.
He vanishes into the crowd, and I stare unseeingly at the Cornish pasty shop opposite me.Could I do this? Would Harry even want to do this?
A bead of sweat trekking down my face reminds me that I’m about to become stuck to a bench in Fowey with my own sweat. I stand up and suddenly I’m overtaken by the urge to do this. It could be my one chance to get Harry.
My steps take me fast down the path, dodging around slow shoppers and tourists. “Excuse me. Twink coming through,” I shout, edging round a woman with a pushchair who appears to have been crowned Queen of the Pavement by the amount of room she’s taking up.
I burst into the shop and breathe out in relief when the air conditioning hits me.
Harry looks up from where he’s reading a book at the till. His eyes immediately brighten the way they always do when he sees me.
“Alright?” He looks at my empty hands. “Did you not get lunch?”
“Not yet.”
I pace towards him. Maybe I shouldn’t do this. But then I think of the years I’ve been in love with him. This could be my chance.
“What about taking me?” I blurt out.
He lowers his book. “Pardon?”
“I could be your boyfriend.”
Something flares deep in his eyes, like a star twinkling to life. “Clem?” he breathes.
“Oh, not for real,” I immediately say in case he starts running away. I’ve seen him run. I’d never fucking catch him. My legs are built for shopping and pub crawls.
He sags ever so slightly, and his expression changes too quickly for me to analyse it. Then he breathes in. “What are you talking about?”
I look around the shop but there’s no one in earshot. The shop is quiet because it’s lunchtime. A young couple in shortsand walking boots are browsing the maps section, while a mum is reading a book to her wriggling toddler. I edge closer to Harry anyway.
“You could take me to your family do, and I can pretend to be your boyfriend.”
“What?”
Everyone looks around and then goes back to what they were doing.
“What?” he whispers.
