Beautifully Unexpected

by Lily Morton

“Wait. What is your name?” “Heffalump. It’s Danish for beloved.”

Omg I’m dead

He settles back into his seat at the table. “Do you know my stepson, Laurie?”

Omg this is what you get

“Slainte.” “Skål,” I say. “Is that Danish for ‘pass me the bacon’?”

I suppose he’s short of money which explains his raggedy clothes, wild hair, and the housesitting.

Your snobbiness is going to cost ya know

Jane says I view the population as if I were a bored Roman emperor, but she’s completely wrong, of course.

Jane is 100% right

Mags has an absolutely beautiful voice. Rich and warm, with a charming hint of his Danish accent and the very faint hint of a lisp that probably comes from speaking in a language that isn’t his first one.

I smile as I remember that he’d thought I was a house painter. I can’t wait to tell my sister.

YES

“So, now you’re taking the piss out of my injury. You’re a terrible person, Mags.”

Mags

THE BOOK SHORTENED HIS NAME TOO LOL

“I have a tank with a great capacity,” I inform him. “Those who don’t, brag. Get your stuff and hurry up.”

“Is he sick?” the driver asks querulously. “If he throws up, you’ll pay for it.” “Why would I want to buy his vomit?” I ask.

Best. Line.

Before I know I’m going to do it, I reach out and brush his hair back from his face. The strands are silky and his expression eases a little. “Sleep,” I whisper.

YOU LIKE LIKE HIM

I sincerely hope Mags doesn’t hear the barely suppressed glee in her voice. She’s been trying to set me up with him for years.

“I’ve done as you wished,” she says to Mags. “It might be easier for people if you just wore a crown from now on.” “It would blind you with its glowing light. You are definitely not worthy,” he informs her, and she shoves him.

Mags is a dick but I love him 😍

I glance up to find him staring at me, his eyes darker than usual. He quickly looks away, and his strange expression vanishes.

“I’ve had a few arrangements that lasted a couple of months. That’s about as far as I go.” “Goodness. Are the men okay? How much did their mental health suffer?”

Omg the SASS

“They’re loyal and loving to everyone. You don’t have to have a good personality for a dog to love you. Just a pulse.” “Why are you saying such things to me? You sound as if my personality is a minus point on the dog chart.”

“I need to clone myself,” he says idly. “I’m far too important to be just one body.”

“Laurie, I don’t remember much beyond putting the Pink Floyd album on.”

“Waiting,” he says with an air of surprise that’s belied by the glint in his eyes. “Is it for death? Because I do wish you’d do it somewhere else.”

MAGS HAS THE BEST LINES

Laurie turns back to me and grins, displaying that curiously enticing dimple. “It figures. He’s obviously your spirit animal.”

“I’m finished in court, but not necessarily for the day. I don’t go into suspended animation when they shut the doors of the Old Bailey.”

“Like a grumpy Danish delivery driver.”

“Because it’s a bookshop, you cultural desert.

“We’re compatible, Mags. I knew we would be.” “How?” “We make each other laugh. It’s always a sign.”

I’ve been presented to the queen a few times and moved in very exalted circles, but nothing has affected me quite so much as this man saying he missed me.

I refuse to live according to the ideas of narrow-minded bigots. They don’t get a say in my life, and they never will. They need to look to their own lives. They must be quite narrow if they’re so obsessed with what grown adults do in their own beds.”

“Never look to have the last word with a woman,” I advise him.

loving the way his eyes darken.

👀👀👀

You’re funny and clever and kind. You’re like sunshine to be with, and only a tiny portion of that is connected with your art.

The root of the problem, though, is that I’ve done a ridiculous thing. I’ve fallen in love with Laurie, and he patently doesn’t feel the same. He doesn’t see the real me, and I thought he did. That is what I cannot forgive.

My poor Mags 🥺

I sigh. “Call me Mags. Everyone else seems to do so lately.”

BEST PART

He continues to gaze down at the records, obviously coming to the undeniable and pathetic conclusion that I was making a tape for his brother.

Oh noooo 😂

“Oh, I wanted to see your portrait,” I say, smiling at him calmly.

This is the WORST idea you’ve had. Let’s do it.

“Real art doesn’t pay attention to time, sir.”

I forgot who Mags was for a second 🤣

I sigh, long-suffering. “Jeg elsker dig,” I say sourly.

Min elskede.