‘Ant,’ Libby muttered.
‘What?’
‘Ant. He could come between us.’
Her mother pulled back and looked at Libby. ‘Oh no. She hasn’t been having a fling with him behind your back? Oh God. I wouldn’t have thought that of her.’
Libby shook her head, a movement which caused her so much pain she almost cried out. ‘No. Nothing like that. I don’t think. No. But they have made friends, and they have – well, it’s like they’ve ganged up on me. I know that sounds really childish. Jess says I’ve been a neglectful friend – putting Ant before her. And now the shop, which she says I put ahead of both her and Ant.’
‘And what does Ant say?’
Libby blushed. She wasn’t sure her mother was quite aware of the full casual nature of her relationship with Ant.
‘Not a lot, as it happens. But he’s become more distant since work started at the shop. And last week he met Jess on the beach and, it seems they spent a good deal of time talking about me. She was there when I went to see him last Saturday and they were getting on like a house on fire. They chatted about more things in those few hours than I think Ant and I have ever discussed. I might as well have not been in the room.’ Libby’s head throbbed and pulsed. Her throat felt dry and swollen.
Her mum pulled her into a hug again. ‘They met on the beach?’
‘It was just a coincidence, they said. I do believe that. I think. But, Mum, it’s just showed me how messy things are. Ant and I – we don’t really have much in common, if I’m honest. We get along, but it’s not love. As for Jess, she’s lonely and I let her down. I know I did. Seeing her so animated with Ant, well, I suppose it made me realise it’s been a while since I’ve seen her that way. Happy and confident. She’s not been herself and I’ve been too wrapped up in my own life to notice.’
‘Libby Quinn, I can see why Jess might feel a little put out – but she’s a grown-up. You’re not responsible for fixing the problems in her life and you’ve always been a good friend to her. But neither you, nor anyone else, is perfect. People don’t always get things right, but it doesn’t make them bad people. And surely Jess understands just how much you have invested in the shop, and not just financially. As for Ant? Well, I don’t know a lot about relationships. I was very blessed that I met your dad when we were so young. He was the only man for me, and we’ve been lucky over the years. That’s not to say it’s always been easy. Relationships require a lot of work, and even more patience. That said, I could work at things and be patient with him because deep in my heart I have always known he is the love of my life. You deserve that big love too, darling. And more. So much more. So if Ant isn’t the love of your life, if he doesn’t share your enthusiasm for your hopes and dreams, then it’s okay to walk away. And, actually, for the pair of you, it’s the right thing to do.’
Libby couldn’t help but cry. Again. Because she knew her mother was right, and just hearing someone else say it – and tell her it was okay – had made it all very real.
22
The Ugly Duckling
Libby had been snoring. She knew that as soon as she woke, the echo of her own loud grunting having hauled her from her sleep.
She lay in her darkened room and swallowed, and was delighted to find that her throat felt marginally better. It was the day after she’d started on her antibiotics and they had clearly started to kick in.
That’s not to say she felt well. She still felt absolutely wretched, but the pain had at least lessened.
Her mother had helped her out of bed that morning and had cleaned her room while Libby had stood under the hot pins of water pulsing through the shower and made a half-hearted attempt at washing her hair, and her body. Even the exertion of lifting her hands above her head had been enough to fell her.
She was no sooner dressed in fresh pyjamas than she’d crawled into the fresh linen her mother had put on her bed and lay down.
‘You can’t go to sleep with wet hair,’ her mother had immediately yelled, startling Libby from her already almost comatose state. ‘Here,’ her mum had said, ‘let me.’
Libby had sat, powerless but grateful, while her mother had gently brushed and blow-dried her hair, just as she had done so many times when she was a little girl.
‘Jess phoned,’ her mum had said. ‘To see how you were.’
‘What did you tell her?’ Libby had asked, worried that her mother might have challenged Jess over the falling out.
‘I told her you were still really unwell, and in bed. And she was welcome to come round and see you.’
‘Did she say she would?’ Libby had asked, hopeful.
‘She said she’d be in touch,’ her mother had said, her voice soft. ‘And if she doesn’t, I’ll be calling her back and giving her a piece of my mind.’
Once her hair was dried, Libby had fallen back into a deep sleep. She didn’t even have the energy to worry about the shop. Her dad had told her everything was fine, and in her weakened state, she was content not to push for more details.
She’d no idea what time it was when she woke. The blackout blinds were more than efficient. She became aware of a knock on her bedroom door. There was something about it that was familiar – so familiar that she wondered had she heard it just seconds before. Had it been that, along with her snoring, that had woken her?
Her father’s voice came through the door. ‘Libby, love. Can I come in?’
She croaked a yes and rubbed her eyes to try and shake the sleep from them.
The door creaked open and her father walked in, straight to the window, where he lifted the blinds just a crack. It was enough to make Libby recoil, like a vampire afraid of perishing in the sun.
‘I’ll not open them too far,’ her father said. ‘But I’ve a surprise for you.’ He then went on to mutter the six most terrifying words she was ever likely to hear in her life. ‘I’ve brought Noah to see you.’
Libby tried to say no. She tried to hide under her duvet – but before she could open her mouth or hide herself from view, her father had walked back over to the door and ushered in an uncomfortable-looking Noah.
‘I asked your dad how you were and before I could say anything else he’d invited me for tea and it seems he doesn’t like to take no for an answer.’
‘You’ve worked hard today. It’s the least we can do to feed you a decent meal,’ Libby’s father said, clearly not taking on board the fact that Noah ran a gastro pub and had full access to a plethora of decent meals whenever he wanted. ‘I’ll go and open us a couple of beers and you can tell Libby about how good the shop is looking,’ he said, before turning to Libby. ‘Ach, Libby, you’d be delighted to see the place today. I actually think you’ve a good chance of pulling this off. Oh, and the glazers called and said they’d be ready to refit the windows next Friday. Sure, once that’s done, you’re laughing. And pest control have sealed up all entry points – they think some of the mice were coming in through your attic. But you’re now a rodent-free zone. And this boy here wasn’t one bit afraid to get his hands dirty either – lifting and moving. A real grafter, Noah. That’s what you are. A grafter and a good man!’