Page 60

He glances at me, then looks back at her. “My home is in Wellington.”

“It’s okay, I won’t make a fuss. I’m not a baby.” Leaving him holding the flowerpot, she goes over to the corner, picks up a picture book, and sits on a box.

Mitch gets to his feet and looks at the flowerpot. Then he looks at me. “I feel an inch high.”

“Join the club,” I say wryly. I glance at Millie again. “I haven’t told her you’re going to stay elsewhere while you’re here. I thought I’d leave that to you.” I look back at him.

His lips curve up. “I see.” His gaze caresses me. “Maybe I’m not ready to leave just yet.”

My heart lifts. “We were going to get fish and chips tonight.”

“Then I’m definitely staying.” He smiles, his lovely blue eyes crinkling at the edges. “Come on. Let’s tell her the good news.”

Chapter Sixteen

Mitch

Leaving a very happy little girl and her smiling mum downstairs, I return to the flat and continue with cleaning the big four-poster bed. An hour later, it stands there gleaming in the late sunshine. Wow, it’s magnificent. Grandad must have bought it when he first got married. Even if Vix decides not to buy the shop, it’s possible the new owner might want it, and if they don’t, it’ll probably fetch a decent price.

I stand there, hands on hips, and look around. The room is empty now, except for the bed, the wardrobe, and a decent bedside table. I’ve got rid of Grandad’s leftover clothes and packed up a few photos and other things I thought he might still want. It’s a nice room, actually, a good size, with a great view across the rooftops of the town to the sea. I can see Vix lying in this bed on a Sunday morning, reading, with sunlight spilling across the duvet.

I wander out and down the corridor. The other two bedrooms are now empty. They’re small but with good views. Millie would love the one on the right that overlooks the park. I can see it painted pink, with unicorn and mermaid stencils on the walls, a pretty lampshade, and a new, big bookcase to hold all her favourite stories.

And across the corridor, the last bedroom… could be a reading room for Vix, or just a storage room. Or, maybe, eventually, a nursery, if she wants more children. She’s only twenty-six, after all.

I lean on the door post, my hands in my pockets, and muse thoughtfully.

“Mitch?” Vix’s voice echoes up the stairs, and I go out, turning off the lights as I go.

“Coming.” I run down the stairs, tugging on my T-shirt. Jeez, I really need a shower.

“You ready to go?” she asks.

“Yeah.” I close the flat door and lock it.

“I ordered the fish and chips,” she says. “It’ll be ready to pick up now.”

We go out of the shop and lock it, walk across the road to pick up the fish and chips, then head up to the house. Rudolph’s just got home, and while he gets changed, I nip into the bathroom and have a quick shower, then join them up at the kitchen table. We unwrap the newspaper and help ourselves to the battered snapper and chips, then chat about our day while we eat.

“I was talking to Carter today,” Vix announces.

“Oh?” Rudolph says, tucking into his fish. “How’s he doing?”

“Good.” She clears her throat, looking suddenly nervous. “He said he’d heard I was thinking about buying the shop.”

Rudolph’s gaze snaps up to hers. “What?”

“I’m just thinking about it,” she says hastily. When I mentioned it in the shop yesterday, Rudolph had gone out for a bit, so he missed the conversation. “Mitch suggested it, and I keep thinking about it. And Carter said he thought I could do it. But I don’t know if I could. I mean, I don’t have any experience, or money really, and I don’t know anything about business.”

“Rubbish,” I say, eating a chip. “You’ve run that shop for ages. And it’s an established business. It’s not the same as approaching the bank and saying you’re starting up something new. You have years of accounts to prove it’s already successful.” I put some more salt on my chips. “Tell your dad what ideas you have for the place.”

Rudolph sits back and looks at her. His expression is carefully blank; I can’t tell what he’s thinking.

Her face has reddened. “Well, um… I was saying to Mitch that there used to be archways through to the museum and the café, and how great it would be to reopen them. And we could have a book café called The Nook, with a sofa and chairs… and a new children’s section, and lots more fiction…” She trails off.

“Well,” he says softly. “You really have been thinking about it.”

“Mummy,” Millie says, “what are you saying?”