Grrlnorth, obviously brilliant and obviously my brain twin, guessed the riddle. If I get deluded enough to write another one, it's all her fault.

Elements of EPOV flashback scene inspired by (stolen from) the movie "Atonement".

This fic is rated M for Manorward. And sexual content.

Chapter 15 – The Bookseller

Friday, the day before it all fell apart.

It's been ten days since you told me you liked me.

Seven days since you held my hand when I walked you home.

Three days since you agreed to go on a weekend away together.

One day since I last kissed you.

I got out of the meeting as soon as I could. My concentration is shattered the moment I realise you're in the building. My feet start tapping, my body is humming and I know I have to go to you.

At work and in the village, I'm respected, trusted. They tell me I'm sensible, responsible, mature beyond my years, a safe pair of hands.

But not with you. With you, I'm just a horny, lovesick boy.

I storm into the library and stalk towards you. You back into the shelf, brown eyes wide. It's a little game we play – we pretend that I'm the hunter and you're the prey. But how can I be the hunter when you've already caught me?

It's dark in the library but light enough to see the war in your eyes.

You want this.

You're afraid of this.

I trap you against the shelf and kiss you hard. I'm still shocked when you kiss me back.

"Say it again." I sound desperate and needy but I don't care.

"I like you." We don't use the other word. Your throat vibrates against my mouth when you giggle. You stop laughing when I slip my hand under your shirt. You've stopped wearing bras. I've stopped doing actual work in the library.

My mouth is on yours again. I swallow your little noises like a starving man while my hands grabble and grope under your clothes. The sounds you make keep me nourished while I wait for you to give me more of you. I keep waiting.

I'm on my knees. My hands are under your skirt dragging the little slip of cotton down to your ankles. This will be further than we've ever gone. Usually, I hold myself back but not today. Today, I need more. You help me by putting your hands on my shoulders and lifting one foot, then the other. The shy girl is gone. Sometimes I'm sure you're practically a virgin. Other times...other times you do things that make me want to bend you over the desk and take you with your skirt still around your waist.

I straighten up and lift your foot onto a low rung of the library ladder next to us. Just like that my fingers are there and I find proof that you want me. Your arms are around my neck and your face is buried against my collar. I can tell by your muffled little sounds and the pressure of your nails where to touch you, and how fast, how deep you want my fingers to go. I may have no say over your heart, but I can make your body sing.

You break into a million pieces in my arms, and I wonder just how I'm going to last the weekend without you.

Auld Reekie

Edinburgh has one of the most stunning cityscapes in the world. The dramatic silhouette of Edinburgh Castle sprawled atop its seat of craggy volcanic rock dominates the city skyline, while the winding streets and alleyways of the medieval Old Town beckons the wanderer to explore its depths. One can choose to jostle with crowds of shoppers and tourists on busy Princes Street where at least one busking bagpiper will be playing "Scotland the Brave", or saunter along the elegant streets of genial New Town with its orderly Georgian squares and terraces.

Everywhere one looks in the Scottish capital, one is sure to find something that will inspire, awe or charm.

Bella Swan saw nothing. Rather, she kept her head down as she walked the city streets to make sure she saw nothing.

Everything reminded her of Edward. The handsome Georgian townhouses made her think of Cullen Mansion. Passing a wine shop brought back memories of the bottle of Château Margaux they shared before their first kiss. Scotch whisky made her think of how he...she would not let her mind go there. She missed the library terribly and could not resist popping into a charming antiquarian bookshop in the basement of a New Town terrace. In the cramped little shop, she saw a tall, lean man with rolled-up shirt sleeves hunching over a volume. Frozen to the spot, she gaped at him until the stranger glanced up at her with mild alarm and she was forced to beat a hasty retreat.

Bella escaped north to Edinburgh to separate herself as far as possible from Edward. Her best friend from university, Zafrina, had recently relocated there and bought a run-down flat in the otherwise ruinously expensive New Town to refurbish. Frequently left alone in a new city by her trainee doctor husband, Zafrina had been asking Bella to visit for some months but was nonetheless surprised to receive a tearful phone-call from her friend asking if she could come that very day and stay.

Once in Edinburgh, Bella threw herself into the unglamorous work of scraping, sanding, prepping and painting. The backbreaking physical labour, together with the company of her funny, sharp-tongued friend kept Bella occupied while she was in the flat. It was only when they took their breaks to explore the city that her sadness and confusion came crashing down on her. She told Zafrina nothing while Zafrina eyed her with concern and distracted her as best as she could.

They were in Harvey Nichols one afternoon window-shopping. Harvey Nichols was the city's premier designer clothing departmental store. Neither could afford anything in the store, but Zafrina wanted to look, so Bella tagged along.

It was there amongst the racks of pricey merchandise that she spotted the exotic creature. The woman was extremely slim with her dark hair cropped close to her head. Instead of detracting from her femininity, her hair highlighted her perfectly-proportioned head, her exquisite bone structure, and her small, delicate features. She wore dark make-up and head-to-toe black. The overall effect was that of a teenage Goth who grew up and discovered fashion. Or perhaps a fashionista who discovered Goth.

Bella thought she looked somewhat familiar but could not place her. Perhaps feeling her stare, the woman looked up at Bella and held her gaze without blinking for several beats. To her surprise, the woman approached her. The wide smile that split her face was sudden and incongruous with her edgy, avant garde clothes.

"Isabella! I haven't seen you for such a long time! How have you been?"

"Erm...I'm good, how are you?" Bella panicked. The woman obviously knew her while she could not for the life of her remember who she was.

"I'm fabulous! I'm in Edinburgh on a work trip. Fancy meeting you here! We should catch up! Shall we have lunch?" By this point, Zafrina had walked up distractedly and caught the tail end of the conversation.

"You go ahead Bella, I need to run some errands anyway. I'll see you at home."

Bella could only look helplessly at the back of her departing friend while the woman whose name escaped her dragged her to Harvey Nichols' top floor restaurant with a surprisingly steely grip.

Thanks to the woman's pushiness, they were seated and served with unusual speed. The moment they made their orders, the woman's smile dropped as abruptly as it appeared.

"You don't remember me, do you?"

"I'm sorry, I'm afraid I don't."

"Alice Whitlock, Jasper's wife. We've seen each other in Forks but I don't go back much anymore. The last time you saw me, I had long hair and Goth make-up. What did you do to my cousin?"

"Wh-what...how did you...Jasper promised..."

"I found a strand of long, brown hair on his clothes. I know everyone he works with and no one has hair that long. I interrogated him until he cracked. I repeat, what did you do to my cousin?"

"That's personal."

"Personal? Would you like to personally explain to me why Edward was high as a kite one week and camping out in the library the next? Or why he was so upset about finding a key because somehow that meant you really weren't coming back? Care to tell me personally why the villagers are saying that you've run off with Garrett to London? Garrett! Of all people! Were you two-timing my cousin?"

Bella frowned. Why would the villagers...then she remembered the times she had been spotted with Garrett in public.

"I'm not with Garrett."

"Well, no use telling me! Edward's disappeared to his hidey hole where there's no mobile phone reception and no one can reach him. He actually took leave from work! He never takes leave from work! The man's such a workaholic when he was quarantined to his room for suspected swine flu he worked from his bed the whole time!"

The information overwhelmed Bella. She had been distraught and angry when she left her resignation letter and the key for Edward to find. The rash act was, at the time, her way of punishing him for deceiving and using her, her means of having the last word in the situation. Now, realising that she had really hurt him, she was flooded with regret.

She felt the need to justify her actions to Alice somehow.

"Alice, you know about the river rights suit between our families?"

"Yes, yes of course. Two-hundred-year-old feud. You sued us, we sued back. What of it?"

"Garrett said..."

"Garrett?" Alice's voice, which had been high with near-hysteria, dropped to a chilly low. Bella suddenly remembered that Garrett had once been involved with Alice. It had "ended badly", he said. "So the weasel is involved, is he?"

"Shall I tell you how I met Garrett?" Her tone was bitter. "It was many years ago. I was this little rebellious goth girl my parents sent to the countryside hoping that I wouldn't be able to get into any trouble there. It was the summer holidays and both Garrett and Edward were working on the estate for my uncle."

Alice looked out of the window at the milling crowd in the square below.

"I liked him straight away. He was just so different from my cousin. You know how Edward is - goody-goody, Boy Scout. Garrett was fun. He never judged, never disapproved and he could talk his way out of any trouble we got into.

"Edward tried to warn me about him but of course that just made me want him more. We got together and things became...strange. He talked about my family all the time. He wanted to come to the family dinners and events. It was like he was obsessed with the Cullens. One time, he even said that if Edward were gone, I would end up inheriting the estate. You know I lost my virginity to him? He wasn't gentle. Not at all. I was very drunk." Alice looked her in the eye. "I was sixteen."

"I supposed I finally got disillusioned with him. I broke up with him and he didn't go quietly at all. He told all the village boys about me...horrible, ugly things...I can only guess, Edward wouldn't tell me. Edward found him in the pub and hit him in front of everyone."

Her smile was sad and affectionate. "My Boy Scout cousin, in a pub fight. Anyway, I couldn't set foot in the village after that. The way they looked at me after what Garrett said...

"Isabella, I don't know what happened between you and Edward. But if Garrett had anything to do with it, then you should look at it again." She heaved a sigh and shook her head, as if shaking off the weight of her past.

"I have to go. Here's my card if you want to talk."

Alice paid for their untouched meals and disappeared after pressing her card into Bella's hand.

Bella walked back to Zafrina's flat in a daze. There were too many emotions warring in her – guilt, suspicion, anger, pity...and a little hope. Zafrina immediately dropped her paintbrush when she saw her face.

"Are you finally ready to talk?" Bella nodded mutely. Zafrina led her to the kitchen counter and produced 2 spoons and a tub of ice cream.

"So talk. It's a boy, isn't it?" Between bites of ice cream, Bella told Zafrina everything. Zafrina was a good listener, a loyal friend, and could be relied on for a brutally honest opinion. Bella realised how alone she really was in Forks.

After hearing the whole story, Zafrina was incredulous.

"Bella, I know we studied literature in university but this is ridiculous. Your life story sounds like the bastard love child of an unholy union between 'Romeo and Juliet' and 'Pride and Prejudice', delivered by an amateur writer of a midwife who likes to quote A-level John Donne." Bella could not help chuckling between her sobs. Only Zafrina could make her laugh at a time like this.

"And 'Hamlet', don't forget 'Hamlet'. And maybe 'Moby Dick'." Bella added woefully.

"Why, is there a large mammal loitering in your life story somewhere?"

"Not yet, but there will be if I keep eating like this." They looked down at the now empty tub. After a moment's hesitation, Bella let Zafrina read Edward's intimate letter.

"Bella, let me get all the facts right. He wrote you a riddle so that you and only you, would find this letter."

"Yes."

"He planned a special weekend for the two of you."

"Yes."

"He wants to meet your mother."

"Yes."

"Bella," Zafrina's voice was careful. "Either he's a charming, scheming bastard or..."

"Or?"

"Or he's madly in love with you."

"Oh."

"What did he say when you confronted him about the lawsuit?"

"I didn't."

"You didn't?"

"I couldn't! I couldn't face him after everything..."

"Well, I think the man deserves a chance to explain." Zafrina added quietly. "He sounds really lovely actually. Never mind, take your time and mull it over. You'll know what to do." She rubbed Bella's back comfortingly. "Before I forget, you have mail, from your mother I think."

Bella's mother had returned to Forks from her holiday and started forwarding her mail to Edinburgh. Nestled amongst the bills and pleas for donations was a hand-addressed envelope, postmarked London. It looked innocuous enough, which was why Zafrina was surprised when her friend opened it and promptly burst into fresh tears.

"Are you alright? What's the matter?"

Bella could only gesture blindly at the letter. Zafrina scanned it quickly for the source of her friend's distress and only became more confused than ever. The letter, handwritten with a fountain pen, was old-fashioned and formal in tone. It appeared to be from an antiquarian bookseller in London. Zafrina imagined the author to be an elderly man in tweed poring over a leather-bound book in his dusty but charming bookstore. There was nothing of note in the letter, and she could not understand what could have upset her friend so. There was one slightly curious thing though. The bookseller had signed his name "J. Gatz". "J. Gatz" was the real name of Jay Gatsby from F. Scott Fitzgerald's novel but Zafrina supposed it to be pure coincidence.

For Bella however, the letter said much more. It was dated the day after she left Forks. Even at his low point, Edward had evidently taken great care to maintain the secrecy of their relationship. As with the riddle, he had counted on her to read between the lines. For the thousands of words that lay unspoken between them, on paper and ink, it was always perfectly clear. Every line cut into her like a fresh blade.

"I regret that our meeting was cut short unexpectedly..."

Why did you leave?

"...I appreciated our lively discussion on books and literature..."

I miss you.

"A few issues were brought up but not resolved."

We're not done yet.

"I feel we should discuss the matter properly..."

Talk to me.

"...imperative that we arrange another visit at the earliest opportunity."

Come back to me, come back.

Bella dialled the number with shaking fingers.

"Alice! Please tell me where he is...I need to talk to him...I need to talk to Edward."

A/N:

Thanks for reading!

Apologies for not being able to reply to reviews. Some major changes going on in my life right now and my health hasn't been the best.