reminded of when Rieker used to sneak up on her while she sat in this same bench. The girls turned to face Johnny. He swept his cap off his head, pulled a rose out of it and presented it to Fiona with a flourish. “A rose for the lovely lady.”
Fiona’s cheeks turned pink but she accepted the flower with a pleased smile. “Thank you.”
“Did you nick that from Mr. Colpitts?” Clara asked in her high voice. “It’s got the tag wot he puts on his flowers.”
“Hush, Clara,” Fiona said. She held the bag out. “We brought you something, too.”
Two dimples appeared in Johnny’s cheeks as he smiled, giving him a charming air. “For me?” He took the bag and peeked in. “Slaved over the stove all day, did you?”
Fiona giggled, her cheeks even rosier.
Tiki smiled as she stood up. “Clara and I are going over to the bookstore. Fi, can you sit with Johnny while he eats and wait for Toots? He should be back any time.”
Fiona cast a shy, sideways glance at Johnny, who was already moving around the bench to take Tiki’s seat.
“Brilliant idea!” he said with gusto, reaching for the bag from Fiona.
Fi playfully slapped at Johnny’s hands. “Hold on, let me get it out before you spill everything.”
“Come along, then.” Tiki said to Clara. “We’re not needed here.” Slipping her hand into Tiki’s, Clara skipped along as they walked the short distance to the bookstore. The bell above the door jingled as they entered.
“Hallo Mr. Potts,” Tiki called. After a moment, the old man shuffled out from between the stacks.
“Well, if it ain’t Tiki and the littl’un.” A smile wreathed his face. “I recognized you as a girl this time.” He braced his hand on his desk as he sank down onto his stool, his hips cracking with the movement.
Tiki patted the man’s gnarled hand. “How have you been?”
The old man shrugged his bony shoulders. “People comin’, people goin’. I miss havin’ yer come pester me for books.” He gave her a wobbly smile.
“Well, I’m here to make a purchase today. A gift for a friend of mine.”
The old man’s eyes narrowed. “Are you still visitin’ with Oliver Twist?”
Tiki blinked in surprise. “Well yes, actually, that’s who the gift is for. What do you recommend this time?”
Mr. Potts pushed off from his stool and moved slowly into the interior of the store.
Tiki raised her eyebrows at Clara who gave an innocent shrug in return, her vivid blue eyes round with curiosity.
A moment later Mr. Potts returned with a thick volume. “’ere yer go.” He placed the heavy book into Tiki’s hands. “It’s been around for awhile. Written by a French chap.”
“That’s a fat book,” Clara said. “Has it got faeries in it?”
“ The Count of Monte Cristo , by Alexandre Dumas.” Tiki read out loud. “I’ve not heard of this one.”
“’Bout a bloke with more than one identity.” Mr. Potts quirked a gray eyebrow at Tiki. “Your friend should like it. I’ll sell it to you half off today.”
Tiki bit back a laugh and handed him a silver shilling. Rieker would also enjoy the man’s sharp wit, she was sure.
“An for you,” he tweaked Clara’s nose, “I’ve got a book over here with a type of faerie in it.” He shuffled to a different section of the store and brought back a thin book. “This is called The Field of Boliauns . ‘Bout a little chap called a leprechaun. Tricky sort, that.” He slid the book into Clara’s hands and waved away Tiki’s offer to pay. “You hold onto them coins so you stay outta trouble.”
They visited for a bit longer and then promising to return soon, Tiki and Clara held hands as they headed back into the station to find Fiona and Toots. There were fewer trains in Charing Cross than King’s Cross and the station wasn’t as busy. Tiki couldn’t help but glance at every traveler they passed and wonder if Larkin was disguised in a glamour somewhere nearby watching them.
But instead of Larkin, her eyes
Fiona’s cheeks turned pink but she accepted the flower with a pleased smile. “Thank you.”
“Did you nick that from Mr. Colpitts?” Clara asked in her high voice. “It’s got the tag wot he puts on his flowers.”
“Hush, Clara,” Fiona said. She held the bag out. “We brought you something, too.”
Two dimples appeared in Johnny’s cheeks as he smiled, giving him a charming air. “For me?” He took the bag and peeked in. “Slaved over the stove all day, did you?”
Fiona giggled, her cheeks even rosier.
Tiki smiled as she stood up. “Clara and I are going over to the bookstore. Fi, can you sit with Johnny while he eats and wait for Toots? He should be back any time.”
Fiona cast a shy, sideways glance at Johnny, who was already moving around the bench to take Tiki’s seat.
“Brilliant idea!” he said with gusto, reaching for the bag from Fiona.
Fi playfully slapped at Johnny’s hands. “Hold on, let me get it out before you spill everything.”
“Come along, then.” Tiki said to Clara. “We’re not needed here.” Slipping her hand into Tiki’s, Clara skipped along as they walked the short distance to the bookstore. The bell above the door jingled as they entered.
“Hallo Mr. Potts,” Tiki called. After a moment, the old man shuffled out from between the stacks.
“Well, if it ain’t Tiki and the littl’un.” A smile wreathed his face. “I recognized you as a girl this time.” He braced his hand on his desk as he sank down onto his stool, his hips cracking with the movement.
Tiki patted the man’s gnarled hand. “How have you been?”
The old man shrugged his bony shoulders. “People comin’, people goin’. I miss havin’ yer come pester me for books.” He gave her a wobbly smile.
“Well, I’m here to make a purchase today. A gift for a friend of mine.”
The old man’s eyes narrowed. “Are you still visitin’ with Oliver Twist?”
Tiki blinked in surprise. “Well yes, actually, that’s who the gift is for. What do you recommend this time?”
Mr. Potts pushed off from his stool and moved slowly into the interior of the store.
Tiki raised her eyebrows at Clara who gave an innocent shrug in return, her vivid blue eyes round with curiosity.
A moment later Mr. Potts returned with a thick volume. “’ere yer go.” He placed the heavy book into Tiki’s hands. “It’s been around for awhile. Written by a French chap.”
“That’s a fat book,” Clara said. “Has it got faeries in it?”
“ The Count of Monte Cristo , by Alexandre Dumas.” Tiki read out loud. “I’ve not heard of this one.”
“’Bout a bloke with more than one identity.” Mr. Potts quirked a gray eyebrow at Tiki. “Your friend should like it. I’ll sell it to you half off today.”
Tiki bit back a laugh and handed him a silver shilling. Rieker would also enjoy the man’s sharp wit, she was sure.
“An for you,” he tweaked Clara’s nose, “I’ve got a book over here with a type of faerie in it.” He shuffled to a different section of the store and brought back a thin book. “This is called The Field of Boliauns . ‘Bout a little chap called a leprechaun. Tricky sort, that.” He slid the book into Clara’s hands and waved away Tiki’s offer to pay. “You hold onto them coins so you stay outta trouble.”
They visited for a bit longer and then promising to return soon, Tiki and Clara held hands as they headed back into the station to find Fiona and Toots. There were fewer trains in Charing Cross than King’s Cross and the station wasn’t as busy. Tiki couldn’t help but glance at every traveler they passed and wonder if Larkin was disguised in a glamour somewhere nearby watching them.
But instead of Larkin, her eyes
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