“Too rich and sticky,” his sister agreed. “I want a new book to read, for school. And Mum says Will has got to spend less time on his phone.”
Martha thought of how she hadn’t seen Owen since the dinner party. He hadn’t been in touch, now the author of the little battered book had been revealed.
“I’d like to see Owen again,” Zelda said, as if reading Martha’s mind. She cast a sly glance at her granddaughter. “He’s very knowledgeable about books. And he’s a very attractive man.”
Will grinned. He clutched his stomach and made a sound like he was going to be sick.
Martha felt her cheeks begin to heat up. “It’s Sunday.” She bristled. “I’m sure that Chamberlain’s will be closed today.”
“We should take a look, anyway. Just in case,” Zelda said.
Martha tried to insist there was no point, but she found herself outnumbered, three to one.
Rose and Will walked a few meters apart and Martha crooked her elbow for Zelda to use as a crutch.
As they turned around the corner from the lifeboat station, Martha found that her pulse quickened when she spotted a figure standing outside the bookstore. As they drew closer she saw it was Owen.
He wore his suit with a T-shirt and red slippers, and no socks. Standing on one leg, he held a coffee cup in one hand and a book in the other. He sipped as he read.
“See,” Zelda said smugly when she noticed him. “It was worth checking.”
“He’s having his breakfast, not working. The shop will be closed, and we’re going to disturb him,” Martha said. But her nana had already raised her hand and waved.
“Owen. Owen,” she called out. “It’s so lovely to see you.”
Owen lowered his book. He set his coffee cup down on the windowsill where, Martha was sure, he’d forget and leave it. However, she quite liked that. There was an easiness about him, a comfortable lackadaisical air.
“Ezmerelda.” He grinned. “How wonderful to see you again.”
“Martha is here, too. And she’s not drunk,” Zelda said.
“That’s...um, good to know.”
“Yes.” Martha didn’t know what to say, so she shrugged and said, “Totally sober today.”
She was glad that she’d made an effort with her appearance again. She wore a Breton striped T-shirt with embroidered red roses on the front, and a slick of mascara and lipstick. Instead of her lace-up shoes, she wore a pair of ankle boots that she’d found, unworn, in the back of her mum’s wardrobe.
“Is the shop open?” Rose lifted her chin. She peered into the dark space behind Owen.
“Not usually on Sundays, but you’re welcome to browse,” he said. He opened the door for her. “The light switch is next to the counter.”
Before Martha could say anything, Will and Rose shot inside.
Owen gave a surprised shrug. “It’s great to see they’re so interested in books.”
“We won’t keep you for long.” Martha smiled apologetically.
“We wrote a story together, last night,” Zelda said proudly. “It’s about a dragon. I want to read it out loud to an audience.”
“Not today, though.” Martha cast her a stare. “I thought we were going to the arcades.”
“We can do both. Do you want to join us?” Zelda asked Owen. “I read to anyone I can get to listen.”
“That sounds, um, intriguing. I’d love to tag along.”
Zelda let go of Martha’s elbow. She patted the top of Owen’s arm and headed into the shop, too.
Martha found herself alone with him on the pavement. “Are you sure we’re not disturbing you?”
“No. My Sundays are pretty uneventful these days. Greg usually vanishes on a Friday night and I see him again on Monday morning,” Owen said. “It’s good to see Zelda again. She’s quite a character. Reminds me of one of my ex-mother-in-laws.”
Martha scratched her neck. “How many wives have you actually had?”
“Not that many...um, three.”
“Three failed marriages are rather a lot,” Martha observed out loud, then wished she hadn’t.
“I don’t think they failed...they were reasonably happy ones. Why does something have to last forever to be classed as successful? Surely it’s okay to give things a try.”
Martha studied him as he leaned against the door frame. Joe had been young and ambitious, whereas Owen was maturing and steady. He came with an interesting history but, then again, so did she.
She thought about his words and wondered if she could manage to see Joe in this way, too. That they’d shared five wonderful years together, and that she should be thankful. Even if they had married, it didn’t guarantee them a happy ending.
“Do you mind if I watch Zelda’s reading? Or is it a family thing?” Owen asked.
Martha glanced at him and thought that, actually, she would like him to join them. “It’s probably the more the merrier, in Zelda’s eyes. I think she’d be delighted if you came along.”
And actually, she knew that she’d be rather pleased, too.
After they browsed the bookshop for half an hour, Will and Rose selected a few books each and Zelda insisted on paying. “I’ll buy them. My treat,” she said. “No arguing.”
“I have business over in Sandshift next week,” Owen said. “I could drop the books off at the library for you, so you don’t have to carry them around today. We could grab a coffee afterwards, Martha?”
He asked her so casually that no alarm bells rang in her head. Her father didn’t scold her, and she didn’t break out in a hot sweat thinking how to turn down a slice of cake. She also didn’t want to lug a stack of books around Maltsborough.
“That would be lovely,” she said, finding no problem at all with accepting his invitation.
People bustled along the promenade. Kids sat in a row along the seawall, their legs swinging. They studiously tied scraps of bacon to string, to lower into the sea and catch crabs. A multitude of bright plastic buckets lay in wait as holding bays for the crustaceans.
Couples strolled arm-in-arm, wrapped up in their anoraks and boots. Dogs scampered along, stopping to sniff at the exciting things dropped on the pavement—blobs of ice cream, scraps of cone and chips.
Zelda pulled up the collar of her woolen coat against the wind.
“It’s chilly here,” Martha said. “Let’s go to the arcades first.”
“I want to read this now.” Zelda took the piece of paper from her handbag. She watched as a stream of people walked by, choosing her moment.
“That story is ours,” Martha said. “When I wrote it down last night, I didn’t mean for it to be shared.”
“I want to read something new,” Zelda said. “The Read and Run at the football ground was the final one from Blue Skies and Stormy Seas. I’ve given my last spare copy away. Mission accomplished.”
Martha pursed her lips, knowing there was no point in arguing. She also noticed how her nana’s sore throat had miraculously vanished.
There was a flea market held in the town each Sunday, and people flocked to it. Martha spotted Nora in a ruby-red velour tracksuit. She was holding hands with a tall handsome man who wore indigo jeans and a black shirt.
Zelda coughed and looked around her, waiting for the optimum number of people to pass by. Martha stood with the kids and Owen.
When a surge came towards them, Zelda spoke aloud. “This is a story that my family created together. It’s about a dragon who lives in Sandshift. I think you’ll enjoy it.”
People stared and walked past. Martha saw raised eyebrows, rolled eyes and smirks, yet Zelda carried on reading.
A man carrying a Chihuahua stopped to listen. Two elderly women who wore matching plastic rain hoods took a seat on a nearby bench. A boy trundling past on a small bike tugged on his father’s sleeve and they paused, too. Others joined them, forming a loose circle around Zelda.
Zelda told the story. She clawed her hands and spread her fingers. She brought the story to life with her actions and words.
When she finished, she took a small bow. A round of applause started up, and her eyes shone as a few people dropped coins on the floor in front of her.