The Little Book Café: Amy’s Story. Georgia Hill

section, worry etched onto her face. ‘It means he can’t lead the final session. The group will feel so let down. It’s such short notice too, I can’t think who could do it instead. It would have been so nice to finish off the sessions and bring it all to a satisfying conclusion. Joel was so popular as well.’ She stared hopelessly at the copy of The Gruffalo that she was supposed to be putting on display.

      ‘I think that might have been the problem,’ Patrick said wryly. He put a mug of coffee on the floor next to her. It was four thirty in the afternoon and trade, although brisk earlier in the day, had tailed off now the October chill clung dankly to the harbour end of town. ‘There you go. In your favourite Persuasion mug too.’

      ‘Thanks Patrick. You’re a star.’ Amy positioned the book in its place next to an arrangement of posters tacked onto a background of fake grass.

      Patrick perched on a chair upholstered in sky blue. Sipping his own coffee he said, ‘That’s looking good. I like the plastic grass stuff.’

      ‘Thanks. I’m trying to get something up for the next storytelling session. The Gruffalo always goes down well with the little ones.’

      ‘It does when you read it to them.’

      Amy felt a blush creep treacherously over her face. She couldn’t cope when Patrick was nice to her. A peculiar mixture of pleasure and pain consumed her. And, as he was nice to her all of the time, it was reaching danger point. To hide her confusion she picked up her coffee and shoved her pinkened nose in the mug. Something Patrick had said before his compliment now struck her as odd. Putting the mug back down and trying not to long for a biscuit to go with it, she asked, ‘What did you mean about Joel?’

      ‘You mean about him being popular?’

      Amy nodded.

      Patrick scrubbed a hand over his stubble. He pulled a face. ‘Ah now, how to put it. He’s been a good friend to me,’ he paused, ‘and I don’t like to criticise, but he likes the ladies, does Joel.’

      ‘Well, that’s okay, isn’t it?’

      He gave her a rueful look. ‘Not if they’re students and he’s got a fiancée.’

      ‘Oh.’ Amy considered what Patrick implied. ‘Oh,’ she repeated, as the truth hit her. She blushed anew. ‘But it’s not actually illegal is it? It’s not as if they’re children. All students at uni are over eighteen.’ She wrinkled her nose. It was all a bit sordid and she was disappointed in Joel.

      ‘Not illegal, no. Not strictly speaking. Frowned upon though. And frowned upon enough for the university to ask him to take this year off or lose his job.’

      ‘Goodness.’

      Patrick laughed.

      ‘What are you laughing at? What have I said?’ She glared at him indignantly.

      ‘You haven’t said anything, my darlin’. You’re such an innocent.’

      Amy stuck her bottom lip out in a way her mother always disapproved of. ‘I’m not innocent,’ she protested, not really knowing what he was getting at.

      ‘Good.’ The subject seemed closed as he went on to say, ‘Why don’t you lead the last session? You’ve a degree in English Lit, haven’t you?’

      ‘Me?’ Amy shuddered. ‘Oh no, I couldn’t. What stand up in front of all those people, in front of Biddy and teach a lesson?’ She shook her head vehemently, her honey-blonde hair flicking out as she did.

      ‘But you’ll face a gaggle of three year olds?’

      ‘That’s different!’

      ‘Some would say harder.’

      ‘Are you laughing at me again?’

      ‘No, no, I wouldn’t dream of it. Just that reading a story to wriggling pre-schoolers isn’t my idea of fun. Sure, I’d rather face the adults.’

      ‘Even Biddy Roulestone?’

      ‘Well, every man has his limit.’ Patrick smiled at her, his vivid blue eyes wrinkling up in a way Amy found irresistible. ‘So, do I take it you want me to teach the final session?’