Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The door to the shop swung open a few centimetres, before hitting a pile of books that sat behind the entrance, and getting stuck there. The girl pushed the door open all the way, causing a landslide of books to come crashing down onto the hardwood floors. 

   From somewhere deeper in the shop, obscured by more piles of books and random rubbish, there came a bang, followed by an odd mix between a grunt and a snuffle - she wondered if there might be a wild boar loose in the shop.

   “Ow! Son of a- who- what.. who's there?” Well, it definitely wasn't a boar, unless wild boars suddenly evolved human language capabilities - and also Irish accents.

×××

   It hadn't been an easy time for Eloise, freshly 22 and living on her own for the first time. Up until late spring, she had been working in the corner shop near her apartment - the problem with that, however, was that the business fell through due to paying their employees insufficient wages. For about six months now, Eloise had been on the dole, attempting to job hunt.

   The only offers she had been getting up until that point were sketchy photographers who scouted young girls with blonde hair and blue eyes. There weren't a lot of those in that bit of London, so it was mostly the same 2 or 3 people trying to convince her - it had started to get very tiring.

   It was early autumn by this point, and she still hadn't found anything that quite fit her. Until now. Now it was a late Tuesday evening, and there was a grimy little paper sign in the window of a little old bookshop off Russell Square, which read ‘SHOP ASISTANT NEEDED, MINIMAL PAY, NO EXPERIENCE NEEDED’. She wondered silently to herself if whoever wrote the sign knew that ‘assistant’ was spelt wrong - or, rather, if they simply didn't care enough to change it.

   Now, Eloise was standing in that grimy little bookshop, the one called Black Books, in front of a very dishevelled-looking older man. He had scruffy black hair and a rumpled black suit, accompanied by a fitting scowl on his face.

   Mr. Black, as she assumed he was, seemed very startled at her appearance, lifting himself onto his chair with a displeased grumble as she attempted to wade her way through the mountains of books and rubbish without touching any of it, for fear of developing some unknown disease.

   “Who are you, what do you want?” Said the man, without really looking at Eloise. He leant back in his chair, clutching his head in a mix of pain and annoyance.

   She paused, “Uhm, well.. I'm here about the sign- out the front? ‘Shop assistant needed’?” She gave a weak smile - she’d forgotten her resume, as well as any confidence she might've had, at home. Knowing that she had no more chance at getting this job than a pig had at flying, the only thing she could think of was to keep positive and hope for the best.

   “...sign? What sign?” He glared up at her through his eyebrows, idly placing a cigarette in his mouth and lighting it.

   “...The one in the window..?” She pointed gingerly behind her, towards the front of the shop, where the sign was. At this point, she wasn't entirely sure whether or not she'd been hallucinating the sign from a lack of both job offers and booze.

   Mr. Black furrowed his brows, turning slightly in his chair to better face the ragged curtain that hung in the doorway behind him, “Manny!”

   “...what?” the quiet voice of an Englishman called out from somewhere behind the curtain.

   “Did you put a sign in my window?”

   A pause, “Yes.. why..?”

   “Because someone's only gone and followed up on the stupid thing!”

   “Oh, very good.”

  The man let out a groan of annoyance, looking back towards Eloise. She simply stood there, slightly confused. “Do you have any real dislike of… pets?”

   “Pets?”

   “...yes. Pets.” There was a hint of a disingenuous nature in his tone.

   “No, not exactly.”

   There was silence for a moment, a quiet consultation of thoughts, before the man finally shrugged and took a drag of his cigarette, “...Yeah, alright, no use not hiring you.”

   Eloise was taken aback, “Wait- wait, what?”

   The man looked up, waving a hand in the air lazily, “..I said you're hired? Look, d'you want the job or not ‘cause I'm getting mixed signals-”

   Without warning, Eloise grabbed the man's hand, shaking it excitedly, “Really? Oh- oh, thank you! I won't let you down!”

   He ripped his hand from her grasp, wiping it on his jacket as if it carried any more disease than the filth he was already living in, “mhm, yeah, don't- don’t mention it.. please.”

   “I'm Eloise, Hughes- you're Mr. Black, I'd assume?”

   Black gave her a patronising look, raising an eyebrow, “No, I'm Missus Moonshine.”

   Eloise laughed, beginning to shift her way through the narrow, winding path back to the front door, “Well, I'll get out of your hair for the night, shall I? I can start tomorrow.”

   “Fine- yes, that's good, don't care, just- out, out.” He shooed her, standing up and heading through the curtain into the back room before she had even actually left.

   She hesitated before exiting fully, taking a good look around the dark shop. God, she'd got her work cut out for her, hadn't she?

Chapter Text

Back at her own - slightly dusty, but much less disgusting - flat, Eloise closed and locked the front door with a short click. Almost instantly, a friendly face poked out from ‘round the kitchen doorframe, meeting her gaze with a smile.

×××

   Eloise and Charlie had been best friends since year 10, having found a safe space within each other as two lonely 15 year olds who hated sports and maths and other people.

   Charlie (legally Charlotte, however she'd rather crush out a cigarette on her forehead than be referred to as such) was always the more reckless and carefree one of the two, although Eloise liked to believe that they both held that energy in some way.

   She was tall, and dark, and had a sort of boyish charm to her. Her hair was short, the same muddy brown as her eyes - choppy layers done in their bathroom with dull kitchen scissors hung loosely around her collarbone, effortlessly framing her angular cheek bones. It was annoying, really, the fact that she always seemed to look pretty without even trying.

   Eloise, on the other hand, was shorter and softer, with dirty blonde hair and greyish eyes that looked a lot more like an average English sky than a bright summery blue. She looked “a bit like a barbie doll that's been played with too much”, a ‘friend’ had told her once. Charlie convinced her to cut that ‘friend’ off, after that interaction - which was something that happened more often than you would think.

   Despite all the years, and the arguments, and the nights of drinking, Charlie and Eloise had stuck together through it all, and - after realising that rent seemed much cheaper when split - ended up in a small, one bedroom flat in Bloomsbury.

   “You look proud of yourself, what happened?” Charlie questioned, moving into the living room to sit and setting her mug of tea down on the coffee table, stirring it idly, “did you get an offer?”

    Eloise lifted her bag off of her shoulder and let it fall to the floor with a soft thump, a smile creeping across her face as she walked over and sat on the settee, pulling her jacket off and throwing it across the room as she did so, “...well.”

   “Oh, God, don't hit me with a well!” Charlie groaned, reaching out and shaking Eloise's arm playfully.

   Eloise chuckled, “Will you wait until I've finished a sentence to start moaning at me?”

   Charlie rolled her eyes, scooting closer and adjusting her position slightly.

   “Well, the strangest thing happened. You know that dark little bookshop on Leigh street? There was a sign on the door about a shop assistant today, and so I went in, not really expecting much to come of it…”

   A moment of silence passed between them, “...and?”

   “And, it was horrendously dirty in there - I mean, like, books piled floor to ceiling - and after wading through the mountains of stuff, there was this strange Irish man, who I couldn't really tell if he was hungover or drunk, and he just…” she paused for a second, thinking, “...gave me the job?”

   Charlie stared at her, blank faced, before a dangerous twinkle lit up in her eye and a smirk began to spread across her face, “...You're lying- you're lying! There is absolutely no way that that is true- i mean… I mean, you didn't even bring your resume or anything with you, did you?”

   Eloise shook her head, "I know, right? That's what I thought too, but there was no second thought or anything, he just… said I was hired, and- and not to thank him, and then he turned on his heels and left!”

   Charlie raised an eyebrow quizzically before sitting back and draping her arm across the back of the sofa.

   “...What?” Eloise returned the look, puzzled.

   “Nothing.” She picked up her tea again, sipping it.

   “No- No, seriously, what?-”

   “When do you start, then?”

   “... First thing tomorrow- not the point, why do you ask?”

   “El, a man doesn't just offer a job to a random woman.”

   Eloise furrowed her brow, tilting her head slightly, “Char, not every man is like that - plus, he didn't exactly seem to like me… at all, actually.”

   Charlie grinned slyly, “Mm… we'll just have to see how tomorrow goes then, shan't we?”

   Eloise, exasperated, nodded softly, feeling a yawn rise in her throat, “Right… well, I'm ready for bed, you coming?”

   Charlie hummed in agreement, gulping down the last of her tea and rising lazily from the sofa, offering a hand to Eloise who practically pulled her over in an attempt to stand. The two giggled in unison, stumbling over each other's feet to get to the bedroom.

   Settling under the duvet, Eloise messed with her pillow, fluffing it until perfect. With no real regard for where she landed, Charlie flopped down beside her, narrowly missing Eloise's face with her elbow. They both shared one last giggle before closing their eyes and relaxing into the softness of the sheets as rain began to patter at the window.

   However, Eloise couldn't help but wonder, as the raindrops got heavier against the window pane and Charlie began to snore, whether she was right about the situation.

   As she thought longer and harder, she started to dread the idea of going into that shop tomorrow morning.

   What if..?

   No, no. Charlie's just overreacting, it was nothing. A job offer, nothing more.

Chapter Text

The morning of that Wednesday was like static, quiet and yet buzzing with unspoken thoughts. Eloise and Charlie sat in bed, each clasping warm mugs of tea like they were lifelines, watching the downpour stream down the window.

   “There is no way I'm going out in that.” Eloise chuckled, taking a small sip of tea, as if rationing it.

   “You've got to, El, first day of work.” Charlie taunted, still quite amused by the whole situation.

   Eloise simply groaned, placing her tea securely on the bedside table and throwing herself back against the pillow dramatically.

   “You don't think I'll last a day, do you?”

   “Nope.”

×××

   10:34, that was when Eloise arrived outside the odd little bookshop. Inside looked quiet, and the grubby sign she had seen the night before had been removed. She was beginning to ponder to herself whether she had simply dreamt up the entire previous interaction when, as she stepped towards the shop front, the door opened itself and out clambered an odd, hairy creature. 

   She came face to face with a beard - no, a man with a beard. He was balding despite his long hair, wearing a brightly coloured Hawaiian shirt and sandals, and only slightly shorter than Eloise, though that might've been his slightly hunched position.

   His confused expression quickly melted into one of recognition, he smiled softly, “oh- um, hello there. I'm Manny, you must be… Eloise?”

   She smiled back politely, recognising him as the man behind the curtain from yesterday, “Yes, that would be me - are you… off somewhere?”

   Manny nodded quickly, pushing past her, “Must be off, late for work. Good luck with Bernard!” With that, he turned and sort of half ran, half walked 2 metres down the pavement and entered the shop next door.

   Eloise couldn't believe she hadn't noticed it sooner, the bright white building accompanied by a huge glowing sign that read ‘GOLIATH BOOKS’ in a horrendously garish font.

   ‘Good luck with Bernard’? She thought to herself whether maybe that was a pet of some kind - or perhaps that was the name of Mr. Black, the one she had met the night before. Truly, it could mean either thing.

   Regardless, she walked up to the door and opened it tentatively, not wanting to send another pile of books flying. It again stopped after swinging open only a few centimetres. After a moment of consideration, she pushed it further - slowly this time - sliding something across the floor. Once the door was open wide enough, she slid through, shutting it behind her.

   Eloise was greeted with the same dark, messy bookshop as before. She clearly didn't dream up the night before, then.

   Now, she could get a good view of the shop, and what she would have to get done. She peered round at what was blocking the door - books, of course. Not hesitating to get started, she leant down and picked up the pile of books, placing them on a nearby shelf.

   She hummed contentedly, beginning to shift once again down the thin maze of a shop, making her way towards the back. As she neared the back of the shop, she looked up to see the same dishevelled man, now draped loosely over his desk chair.

   “Oh god,” she exclaimed, mostly to herself, "he's not dead, is he?” Swiftly, she practically flew the rest of the way to the desk, stepping on something that screeched. Was that the ‘pet’ he was talking about yesterday? Maybe he was talking about the dead badger on the floor.

   Carefully, she reached over and shook the man's chair. No response. She paused for a moment before picking up his arm and pressing her fingers to his wrist, looking for a pulse.

   “Well, he's definitely alive… barely.” She tilted her head, before gently tapping his shoulder, “Mr. Black?”

   He snorted, shifting slightly.

   She tapped his shoulder again, more roughly this time, speaking a bit louder, “Mr. Black?”

   He awoke with a start, slowly grumbling to life and squinting at Eloise, “...Manny?”

   She stepped back slightly, shaking her head, “...Uh, no. I'm Eloise.”

   The man's brow furrowed, an expression she assumed she would be seeing a lot of, “Do I know you?”

   “Yes.. we- we met? Last night? You gave me a job-”

   “Oh, yes- yes, Eloise, yes.” He blinked a few times before straightening up and reaching out his hand to shake.

   She took his hand and smiled politely, shaking it, “Eloise Hughes.”

   “Bernard Black- don't touch me.” He pulled his hand away.

   She paused, squinting confusedly, “Figured I'd bring a little something.” She reached into her satchel bag, pulling out a bottle of wine she had bought on the way there.

   Bernard's eyes lit up at the sight of the booze, “Yes, great- lovely!” He picked up 2 glasses from somewhere behind the desk and thrust them in front of Eloise - she recoiled in disgust at the sight of them, they were covered in snails. She took the glasses and picked the snails off, placing them in a pile on the desk, before pulling the cork out of the bottle with her teeth and pouring them both a glass of wine.

   She set one glass in front of Bernard, and the other down next to her, moving a pile of books off the nearby chair and sitting on it.

   “I, like.. the way you think.” Bernard pointed at her lazily, grabbing the bottle and pouring more wine into his glass, “What- what was your name again? Aretha- jermaine- paul?”

   She nodded, “...Eloise.”

   “Eloise, yes, that's it.” He nodded back, taking a swig from his glass, “So.. you're going to help me, fix up the shop?”

   She made a face, looking around, “...yeah- yeah sure, sounds about right.”

   He nodded again, “Good, good- when can you start?”

   “Well, I assumed- I kind of assumed, today..? Was the, um, start?”

   He paused, looking over at her, “...yeah, yeah. That’s good. One day trial, yeah… 

have you got a light?”

×××

   The door swung open aggressively, bashing into the wall with a bang. It bounced back and hit whoever opened it, there came a shout. Eloise jumped, almost dropping the pile of books in her hands. She paused and looked over at the door as it once again opened, more carefully this time.

   In came an eccentric-looking woman with short black hair and a light scarf across her shoulders, “ouch.. Bernard? Bernard, I- oh! You've fixed up the place!”

   The shop was far from ‘fixed up’ as the woman called it, books were strewn across the floors and various clothing items - Bernard's laundry, evidently - lay about the place. The good thing was, she had removed the rubbish from all over the place, and, for the most part, cleared a path from the door to the desk.

   It wasn't Eloise's best work by any means, but the woman who had just come in had a look of delight on her face, as if this was the cleanest she had seen the shop in decades.

   Eloise straightened up, giving a small wave, “Uh… hello!”

   The woman turned, her gaze fixing on Eloise. Her expression phased from glee, to surprise, to a sly, knowing grin. She made a noise that sounded a lot like a cow mooing, but higher pitched, “I see what's going on here… Bernard!- where is Bernard, d’you know? We were supposed to have lunch around now- mm! sorry, getting ahead of myself.” She cleared her throat, taking a breath, “I'm Fran, friend of Bernard's, and you are..?”

   “..oh! Uhm- Eloise.” She grinned back.

   “Eloise,” Fran nodded, “that's a lovely name. I'm assuming you're the one who…” she trailed off, gesturing towards the room around them.

   “Cleaned the place? Yes- yes, that was me.” Eloise chuckled, “However, Bernard did help a bit- he's in the back, watching his TV presumably. I'm not entirely done, so I'll just be here if you need me.”

   Fran patted the girl's arm gratefully, “Thank you… Good luck with the rest of the mess.”

   With that, Fran walked briskly past the girl, disappearing into the back room.

   She approached Bernard, closing the curtain behind her, “Hello, Bernard.”

   He looked up, raising an eyebrow, “Oh, yes- hello, you, what d'you want?”

   “I want to know who that girl is in the front, the pretty one with the blonde hair? She's lovely.” She put on a mocking tone, kneeling down next to Bernard’s armchair.

   “Who, Eloise? Yeah, I hired her yesterday- why?”

   Fran raised her eyebrows, a grin creeping onto her face, “You? You- you really hired… a person- a girl, nonetheless?… wow.”

   Bernard scowled at her, “What are you on about?”

   “I'm just surprised you haven't scared her off already, with your- you know, you.”

   He rolled his eyes and threw his head back, lolling it idly off the back of his chair.

   Suddenly, Eloise walked through, grabbing a bin liner and beginning to sift through the rubbish that lined every surface in the kitchen.

   “Speak of the devil.” Bernard gestured towards her.

   “Yes, see- that's what I'm talking about.” Fran made a face at him.

   “Hello, you two- sorry, I had a look at the kitchen earlier and I saw all the rubbish.. It's just been eating away at me that you've got to live in this dump!” She laughed, shaking her head and turning to grab more rubbish, “Plus, I'm sure you two don't mind the company, right?”

   “Yes, we do, actu- ow!” Bernard started, Fran smacked him.

   Eloise hummed, “...so, are you two.. y'know?”

   “What, together? Oh- oh, God no- no.” Fran and Bernard protested profusely in unison.

   Eloise nodded, raising an eyebrow, “Right- got it.”