The Borrow a Bookshop Holiday by Kiley Dunbar

The Borrow a Bookshop Holiday by Kiley Dunbar

Author:Kiley Dunbar
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Hera
Published: 2021-01-15T00:00:00+00:00


* * *

Later, as he drags the mattress down the spiral stairs, this time knocking a ceiling light so it swings perilously in its fitting, I can’t bring myself to look at him, and I pretend to brush the sand from my feet and make a fuss about how it’s getting everywhere, and we say our usual awkward goodnights.

While I brush my teeth and get into my jammies I can’t help but let my mind wander all over the place.

Maybe it’s the sea air? They say it changes you, don’t they? Makes you hungry for fried fish and helps you sleep deeply at night. Maybe it also makes you ever so slightly fancy big, nerdy, high-achieving, muscly holiday-crashers who you don’t know the first thing about and who have it in their power to save helpless creatures’ lives and… No. No, I’m not doing this.

There’s eleven days of my Clove Lore escape left and I’m here to enjoy it, drama free, like Willy Russell’s Shirley Valentine running off to Greece. Oh no, that’s a bad example. She ends up in bed with that sly geezer, doesn’t she? No, I’m more like Bathsheba Everdene in Far from the Madding Crowd when she’s running her farm: self-reliant, business-like, out to prove herself. Of course she ends up trapped in a mad love triangle, doesn’t she?

I give up. I’m going to bed, but just before I let myself drift off, I can’t help reaching for my phone, switching it to silent and searching for Elliot’s YouTube channel. What was it called? Something adorably nerdy? Dr Elliot’s Day?

‘This channel has been removed by the maker,’ the app tells me. Bit weird. Why would he do that? I guess it saves me the shame of stalkerishly watching him operate on small furry animals for the next hour, which is absolutely the kind of thing I know I’d end up doing.

I hear Elliot downstairs climbing into his makeshift bed and saying to the empty shop ‘Goodnight Aldous, little mate,’ in a low, solemn voice, and I throw myself under the covers with a groan.



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