Brenda and Effie - Beyond the Veil by Paul Magrs

Author:Paul Magrs [Magrs, Paul]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Obverse Books
Published: 2023-10-19T00:00:00+00:00

Thursday goes by and I’m shopping for things like smoked salmon and vol-au-vent cases and bottles of fizzy wine. I’m lugging everything back up the hill, just about doing my back in as I drag these things for the party up to my shop. Now I’m fretting about not sending out flyers and posters announcing my opening day event. Alan next door had a good idea, but I’ve not had the time to do it myself or the inclination to accept his offer of help. He probably hates me now since that awkward and violent tussle up in his attic.

Nevertheless, I make out some fancy invitations to pop through various letterboxes. He gets one next door, and so does Agnes Timperley from The Spooky Finger. I make a poster using felt pens and glitter to put in my shop window. I’ve had a few glasses of wine when I do the lettering and, as I tape it to the glass the next morning I wonder if it looks a bit wobbly and unprofessional. Bollocks to it. Artisanal, that’s the word. Not slick, not overly polished. Homemade, slightly shonky-looking. That’s my go-to look, I think.

I’m standing in my shop window dressed in a purple crocheted cardy and a granny dress I got from a charity shop on Silver Street. It could be that I look a bit daft as I scatter colourful fallen leaves that I collected this morning from Pannet Park, but I don’t care. My window is going to be a masterpiece of autumnal vibes. I place carefully-curated piles of my favourite romance novels on top of the beautifully fragrant and colourful leaves and, last but not least, I set out the taxidermy squirrel and hedgehog and rabbit that I found amongst Effie’s old junk. They are dressed in Edwardian costumes and look quite jaunty, sitting amongst the books and leaves in my window.

The whole day slides by with me fussing around in my shop. I must say, it feels good to concentrate on ordinary, earthly things, and not to spare much thought for the multiverses and monsters that have twirled around too much in my head lately.

I have a light supper and a glass of wine and take a last look at my bookshop before turning out the lights. ‘Tomorrow you’ll be open,’ I tell my shop. ‘It’s all starting tomorrow!’ There’s a tingle in my stomach, and it’s more than just Merlot on top of my fish finger sandwich. This is my dream coming true at last! Everything I ever wanted to do, and the person I always wanted to be. Wind and Wuthering is absolutely perfect.

I will have an early night. Tomorrow I want to be bright and full of energy.

But when I get to my bedroom Tim is standing there by the bed.

‘Christ, not more guitar playing…!’ I burst out tactlessly.

There’s something odd about Tim, though. He looks… not frightened, exactly. He looks a bit disturbed.

‘What’s the matter…?’

He sits down heavily on the bed. He doesn’t pass through it, I notice.

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