The Broken Hearts Book Club (12 page)

‘Hello Maggie,’ Elle said, her voice glacially calm. ‘It’s nice to see you.’

‘I wish I could say the same. I was under the impression neither of you planned to stay in Luna Bay for very long. After you caused so much destruction here and given what people think of you, I wouldn’t think you’d want to hang around.’

I instantly began to imagine the residents of Luna Bay whispering about us and the terrible tragedy that happened eight years before. The thought made me sick to my stomach.

Tears filled Elle’s huge blue eyes and her cool, calm façade fell apart. I got up, my knees trembling, and decided to try and make peace once and for all.

‘Maggie, I know that nothing Elle or I say will change what happened to Vicky or make things any better, but please believe me when I say we’re truly sorry. We think about her every day, don’t we?’ Elle nodded as tears silently fell down her cheeks. ‘We all have to live here and it’d be a lot easier for everyone if we could at least be civil with one another. What do you say?’

Maggie’s face gave nothing away and her eyes were steely and emotionless. In one swift movement, she picked up a pint glass from a nearby table and threw the contents over me.

‘There you are, that clear enough for you?’ She spun on her heel and stormed out before one of the bar staff could throw her out.

Since I was drenched in beer, we had to make a pretty quick exit. I smelled like a brewery, as my two best friends delighted in pointing out. We fell into an easy, fun conversation about nothing at all, to help us forget all about Maggie’s creative way of declining my attempt at moving forward. As we walked through the high street, going nowhere in particular, I felt myself relax for the first time in what felt like ages. I knew where I stood with Maggie, at least for now. She’d made it abundantly clear that Elle and I would never be forgiven for our parts in what happened to Vicky, but that didn’t mean we were going to run off with our tails between our legs. Luna Bay was our home too and we had as much right to be here as Maggie did.

‘Lucy, wait up!’

I turned round to see Jake sprinting down the hill towards me. He skidded to a halt and put his hands on his jeans while he got his breath back.

‘I was… I wondered if I could ask you something?’ he asked.

‘Um, sure of course you can.’

I turned to Elle and George and said I’d see them at home. They gave me knowing glances and carried on down the road, Elle making a love heart with her fingers while I resisted the urge to do a ruder gesture back to her.

‘What is it?’ I flicked some of my soaking wet tendrils out of my face in an attempt to look attractive whilst covered in beer.

He paused, carefully selecting his words. ‘I’m going to sound like a complete moron here, but I was wondering if you fancied coming over for dinner one night? N-not as a
date
or anything, but we’ve still got loads of events plans to discuss. We got the cocktail party organised but it’d be good to talk about more things we could do.’

I frowned. If he hadn’t been so emphatic about it not being a date, I’d have thought he was interested in me. But he wasn’t. He couldn’t be, could he?

‘But we discussed doing a summer party and maybe a barbecue out on the deck, plus something at Christmas. What other ideas did you have?’

A furious blush crept into Jake’s cheeks and he shifted from foot to foot. ‘Oh you know, just this and that. W-we can talk about it properly over dinner. If you want to, that is.’

‘Yeah I’d love to. When do you fancy doing it?’
Oh shit, this is no time for euphemisms Lucy.
‘Having dinner I mean!’

The blush on Jake’s cheeks darkened. He was now the colour of a plum. ‘Say Wednesday? You could have the book club meeting in the back room if you like, then we could discuss some ideas afterwards.’

‘And you could come to the meeting,’ I added with a wink. ‘Just kidding.’

‘You’re like a dog with a bloody bone when you get going!’ He chuckled and dug his hands deep into his pockets. ‘So we’re on for Wednesday?’

‘We sure are!’ I slapped my thigh and immediately wondered what the hell I’d just done.

Fortunately, Jake didn’t seem too weirded out by that. ‘OK great, I’ll see you then.’

As I walked back down the road, I thought of what advice I could use for my upcoming evening with Luna Bay’s hunkiest – and moodiest – barman. One piece in particular stood out: if at all possible, try not to slap my thigh and say things that make me sound like a children’s TV presenter.

Chapter Eleven

As renovations on Rose Cottage kicked off, I learned two things: damp proofing isn’t as easy as it looks and water makes a hell of a mess.

Nobby No-Jobs, the man I paid quite a lot of money to damp proof Rose Cottage, managed to make a section of the kitchen ceiling collapse. I had no idea how and, as it turned out, he didn’t either. I went down to see how he was getting on and discovered the kitchen was partially buried under mounds of plaster, rubble and broken wooden beams This was clearly my punishment for hiring a man nicknamed Nobby No-Jobs, famed for his lack of clientele.

‘What the hell is this?!’ I waded into the debris and stared blankly at it, wondering how on earth it could ever be fixed.

‘Sorry love, these things happen sometimes,’ he said, using a dirty hand to mop some sweat off his brow. ‘It’s these old houses you see, full of surprises.’

‘Well can you fix it?’ was what I wanted to know.

Nobby did the typical sucking-air-through-his-teeth thing tradesmen were famous for and gave a grave shake of his head.

‘I’m not a builder sweetheart; you’ll have to get a professional in to sort this trouble out. It’ll be quite a hefty cost too, I’d imagine.’

I wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry; in the end I chose the latter. I sank to the floor and burst into tears. Huge mournful wails burst from my chest as I tried to work out what to do next. Now it wasn’t only my attempt to run a Broken Hearts Book Club meeting that had gone wrong. Rose Cottage was now crumbling down around me too!

‘I can’t afford a professional!’ I shrieked. ‘I barely had enough money to pay
you
and now look what’s happened!’

I gestured to the utter devastation surrounding me and threw my hands up in defeat. ‘That’s it. I’m screwed. Thanks very much Nobby!’

Nobby No-Jobs smiled, revealing a set of very rotten brown teeth, and started talking about all the reasons why it wasn’t his fault. He did offer to help me clear the rubble out, but wouldn’t be putting up any money towards hiring a builder to mend the ceiling.

I looked up at the massive hole in the ceiling and started to cry again. It was safe to say my dream house wasn’t off to a very good start. In fact, I doubted things could get much worse.

‘Ow, shit!’

I hopped around on one foot, clutching the other and yelping in pain. I’d managed to drop some rubble from the ceiling on it when I was trying to clear it away. With great difficulty, I managed to hobble over to one of the ancient kitchen chairs and threw myself down onto it.

‘Well this is just bloody brilliant!’ I thought aloud. I looked around the empty, derelict room and shook my head. ‘Is this what you had in mind for me when you left me this place, Nana? Knocking holes in the ceiling and nearly breaking my foot?’

Then it occurred to me that if she could see me now, Nana Lily would be in stitches. She always saw the funny side to things, always brought out the best in every bad situation. Right now, I could picture her offering me a cup of tea and an ice pack for my sore foot, trying not to laugh at my misfortunes.

‘You always were clumsy,’ she’d say with a smile, ‘like a bull in a china shop!’

Just then, a voice from the hallway brought me back to the present.

‘Hello? Anyone here?’ I instantly recognised it as Jake and felt my insides begin to do cartwheels.

‘In here!’ I called. I got up to greet him and felt a jolt of pain shoot up my leg.

Jake came in, looked at me and shook his head. ‘Dare I ask what happened here?’

‘Nobby No-Jobs had a bit of an accident while he was doing the damp-proofing.’ I gestured to the rubble-strewn floor. ‘And this happened. What are you doing here anyway?’

‘I saw Nobby in the pub and he told me about the accident he’d had here. I thought I’d come over and see if I could help out.’

My hackles rose when I saw him try to stifle a chuckle. His cheeks turned crimson and he stuffed his fist into his mouth to try and stop it from bursting out.

‘It’s not funny! This cottage means a lot to me and now it’s crumbling down around my ears! If you’ve come to laugh instead of help, then you can bugger off!’ I knew I sounded like a child throwing a tantrum but I didn’t care. I had a lot riding on renovating Rose Cottage and was furious that Nobby had derailed all my plans.

‘I’m sorry…’ Jake trailed off and let out a laugh that sounded like air hissing out of a helium balloon. ‘I just can’t believe you hired Nobby No-Jobs! You know why they call him that, don’t you?’

I flushed and said I didn’t. ‘I found him in the Yellow Pages; he was cheap and could start the job right away. Why, what did he do?’

He finally managed to compose himself and wiped some tears away from his eyes. I could see he wanted to laugh again. ‘It’d be easier to answer what he
hasn’t
done, really. He’s taken out a whole street’s electricity, flooded umpteen kitchens and don’t get me started on his crazy paving skills. Oh and he once mucked up a plumbing job so badly, the woman had to flush her toilet to get her shower to work.’

I threw my head into my hands and started laughing. ‘Oh God, I couldn’t have chosen a worse handyman, could I? Why’s he still in business if he’s no good?’

I looked up and saw Jake smile. Suddenly, the catastrophic mess around my feet didn’t seem quite so bad.

‘Nobby’s a good bloke,’ he explained, ‘and he loves doing odd jobs. He might not be any good, but he’s enthusiastic and wants to help people.’

I felt a rush of warmth course through me. It made total sense: Nobby had worked his way into everyone’s hearts – so despite his complete lack of DIY skills, people still hired him.

We stared at each other for what felt like a decade, until Jake broke the companionable silence.

‘Let’s see about getting this mess cleared up, shall we?’

With that, we got on our hands and knees, sifting through the rubble and stealing glances at each other as often as we could.

That night, I stayed at Rose Cottage instead of going home. After the disastrous day I’d had, it seemed important to be there, not least in case anything else went wrong. Jake had said he’d have a go at patching up the hole in the ceiling on his next day off. Armed with a dubious-looking camp bed from my parents, I prepared to spend the night in my beloved Rose Cottage. I folded it out and lay on top of it, staring up at the ceiling. The whole house seemed alien to me; it was no longer the place I’d spent so many happy days as a child. It had fallen into rack and ruin and there seemed to be no trace of Nana Lily here any more. I couldn’t feel her warmth or spirit any more; Rose Cottage had become nothing more than an empty shell with a hole in the kitchen ceiling. Tears began to run down my face as I remembered how the house used to be: happy, full of life and love and always bursting with people. It had had a life of its own once upon a time; everyone in the village had passed through here at one time or another, either for some of Nana Lily’s amazing cakes or a dose of her advice.

Through the living room’s ornate French doors, the moon shone brightly and cast a milky lustre onto the sand and sea. I got up and walked over to the French doors, looking out at the scene that lay before me. The beach was quiet and still; the only sound I could hear was the soft, gentle sigh of the waves lapping the shore. A heavy weight dropped into my stomach: was I
really
ready for the task that lay ahead? Could I really make Rose Cottage great again and help the Broken Hearts Book Club members?

‘What do you reckon, Nana?’ I asked the empty room. ‘Am I up to it?’

I looked up at the star-strewn sky above me and the answer became crystal clear:
yes you can.

After my first disastrous attempt at running a Broken Hearts Book Club meeting, I managed to successfully organise our next read. I picked
The Book Thief
by Markus Zusak and got copies for all the members as a way of apologising for the piñata.

The book was met with scepticism by some of the members.

‘Never heard of this,’ Frank said when he got his copy. ‘It says it’s written from
Death’s
perspective? How can you write a book like that?’

‘Just give it a chance, I promise you’ll love it. It’s a beautiful book. If you can’t get it all read before the meeting on Wednesday, that’s OK. Just read as much as you can.’

His eyes flicked from the book cover to me but he didn’t look convinced. ‘That’s not the sort of thing we usually read, you know.’

I smiled. ‘I know. But you might like it.’

I told him about the change of venue – The Purple Partridge instead of the Moonlight Café – and left.

When I dropped Diane’s copy into the café and told her about holding the meeting in the pub, she was surprisingly OK with it.

‘That’s fine.’ Her smile was sweet and serene as she buzzed around behind the counter. ‘We could do with a change of scenery.’

This isn’t right
, I thought,
something’s definitely up
. ‘Are you sure? Because if you’re not, we can just hold it here instead. I just thought a different venue might be nice. N-not that this place isn’t nice…’

She held her flour-covered palms up. ‘Lucy darling, it’s absolutely fine. I’ll be there, having read what I’m sure is a
wonderful
book.’

As I left the café and saw Diane wave as I carried on down the street, I felt very unsettled. One minute she was trying to goad me into telling everyone about the Vicky thing, the next she was all sweetness and light. It was true what Nana Lily used to say: there’s nowt as queer as folk.

To distract myself from my impending second meeting and all the nerves that came with it, I threw myself into renovating Rose Cottage. Jake still hadn’t managed to come round and fix the hole in the ceiling, so the kitchen was still a disaster area. I’d closed it off and avoided looking at it; even the sight of it made me want to hurl things at Nobby No-Jobs’ head.