Day 138 – The Spy – Part 2

I’m really tired.

Word count: 550

 

The door bell trilled as he stepped inside, minding his head above the low ceiling. It was a quaint little bookshop; the kind that collected more dust than coins in the till. Old books lined the dark wood shelves and a dull light filtered in through the little tiny windows.

 

“Harry!” Toby jumped out from behind a shelve towards the back, “Haven’t seen you in a while, how have you been?”

“Not too bad, not too bad…”

“And the preperations?”

“Oh god a complete nightmare, it’s like hell on Earth… well you’d know!”

Harry was trying not to let his nervousness show, but he could feel it teetering on the edge of his teeth. He was out of practice, but he did not realise how much by.

“Oh god, well you know what… after all the hassle that me and Shelly had, it’s worth it. It’s worth every little argument about colour schemes and invitation letters… When is the date again?”

“Not soon enough I can tell you – just want to marry her, I don’t want to parade her around!”

“So what brings you in here… we don’t have very many wedding ideas books I’m afraid?”

“Oooh, errr… it’s my brother’s birthday…. thought I’d get him a gift…”

“Ahhh, what’s he into – culture, travel, history, crime, thriller….?”

“Anything, anything really,” Harry was keeping one eye out the window. There were people walking along the street. They might have been anyone, but they might have been someone. No one looked in or turned their heads back around to scan behind them. No one stopped mysteriously to check their phone or look at the time.

“What about this, bestseller when it came out….”

“Yeah? Really, what’s it about?”

“It’s a spy chase…. great read… not too serious… just a bit of fun, you know…”

“What like James Bond?”

“Yeah, I suppose… though less classy.”

“Nah, sorry he’s the kind of guy who likes the classy spies…”

Rachel. She was hovering out in the street.

“What about this one, biography of a German war correspondent?”

“Uh, sorry – I er… I have to go…”

 

Harry stole himself out of the bookshop and made his way not to his fiancé, but to the ATM machine just to his left. He withdrew all the wedding fund. All four thousand pounds. He stashed it into his back pocket and ran towards his future wife with a deliriously happy smile on his face.

 

“Rachel,” he kissed on the cheek.

“Harry, what’s up?”

“Rachel, you’ve got to listen to me,” he was speaking quickly and still smiling as if he were the happiest man in the world, “You’ve got to take all the money I have in my back pocket and you’ve got to go… You’ve got to go to the place that you met your first ever boyfriend. You told me you like it there. Go there. It might even still be sunny.”

“But – but?”

He drew her in close, wrapping her arms around his back, “No buts….”

He put her hand on the money and allowed her to take it all.

“Oh my god, Harry! Harry? Harry!”

But by the time she looked up from the astonishing number of notes in her hand, he had already vanished down the nearest alleyway with a tear in his eye.

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~ by S.G. Mark on February 22, 2012.

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