The heart of the town was busy that evening, with the students going out for a meal with their families or farmers preparing for the weekend market.

All the trees in Berkshire shed their greenery and turned to gold. The autumn winds had become harsher and more frequent; people donned more layers of clothing and sought warmth in local pubs.

The farmers' market created a buzz in the centre of the town every Saturday and Sunday, selling everything from fresh farm grown produce, homemade pies and quiches and various bric-à-brac and homemade crafts. The locals and several tourists visited small town boutiques.

Norah worked at the local stationery shop. It was never busy. The peak time was usually right before school and around Christmas. It was barely the beginning of November and she was already taking down the Halloween decorations to make space for the winter festive deco.

As the door opened, the small bell tinkled above the door. Norah dropped the fat Santa back into the box and came to the front of the store and plastered on a practised smile.

"Good evening, can I help you— oh."

She stopped as she saw him, surprise showing on her features.

Rafe waved and brought his hands to his mouth to blow hot air and warm them up. His nose was slightly red from the cold.

"Hi," he said as he rubbed his hands together. "I need your help."

"What are you looking for?"

"You."

"Okay..." Norah replied and saw that Rafe was struggling with whatever he came here to say.

Then it hit her.

"If you changed your mind about the book, I have it with me," she began in a small voice.Rafe shook his head.

"I'm not here for the damn book. I need your help," he said. "Christ it's cold outside. Took me forever to find this place."

Sceptical, she looked around the shop. "Sure, what do you need? We have pretty much all the stationary here."

"I want you to tutor me. And help me with my uni applications," Rafe said and after a pregnant pause, added a "please."

Norah blinked. "Tutor you?"

"Yes. Help me get my grades up. I'll pay."

There was an awkward silence. Her brow furrowed, and her stare became hard.

"No. Sorry, but no."

Rafe frowned.

"Why not?"

"Look, I appreciate the book switch, but I don't have the time to be teaching someone. Especially someone as unmotivated and lazy as you."

"But that's why—"

"And we are not friends, so I don't even want—"

"But we don't have to—"

"And frankly, I don't want you to waste my time as you do yours."

"Oh Madonna, would you let me speak?" he erupted.

"It's Norah," she corrected.

He looked up at to the ceiling and was muttering something in Italian, with a few hand gestures. Norah assumed he was talking to God. Or losing his marbles.

"I have to get back to work," she said as she tidied rows of pens, pencils, and markers.

"How much do you make here?" he asked as he followed her around the shop.

"That's none of your business."

He walked around the shelves to face her directly. "Just humour me for once and I'll leave you alone."

"Five quid an hour. Now leave me alone."

"I'll pay you ten times that."

Norah's hand hesitated mid-air before continuing to methodically stack the folders. Her mind worked. Fifty quid an hour for tutoring was no small fee. But would it be worth it?

She looked at Rafe again. His face was bemused. He hated studying, so the idea of him getting extra tutoring outside school was probably torture. But he was determined to get an answer. He looked at her with resolve.

His eyes, Norah realized, changed from light brown to honey depending on the light. She couldn't deny the opinion of every girl (and probably some boys) that he was incredibly good looking. She fleetingly wondered why the most popular boy in school asked for her help.

"You know the teachers provide extra tutoring after school? Mr. Hyam has—"

"A class on Thursday? Yeah, I'd rather chew off my arm. He's boring. He spits when he talks, and he likes to touch. A lot."

Norah cringed and wanted to laugh. She had a mental image of the flawless and cool rich boy like Rafe at the mercy of endless spittle. She put a hand over her mouth to hide her amusement. She composed herself.

"William and Amber are both good in English Lit. And they both take French. They're your friends. Why not ask for their help?"

Rafe answered as if he had already anticipated these questions. "Exactly, they're my friends. That would just be awkward. I'd feel weird asking for their help and paying them... And you, you already look and behave like a teacher anyway. And you obviously are not working here for the pleasurable environment," he said looking around the small stationary in abhorrence.

Norah started at him.

"Well?" he asked with hope.

"I need to think about it. We have mocks coming up so soon..."

"That's why I'm desperate. Think about it. Let me know. Here's my number. And here's the advance," he said, placing a fifty pound note and a piece of paper with his number on it in her hand.

She didn't have time to give it back as he already left the shop

* * *

"So are you going to help him out?" Nana asked as they sat in front of the TV at home after dinner. Norah shrugged, wrapping a blanket around herself. They had just finished doing the dishes after dinner and had snuggled up on the couch. Norah was nursing a hot cup of cocoa with marshmallows and cream.

She had been asking about Rafe all night.

Is he good looking? Where is he from? Why is he here? Does he have a six-pack? Does he have an Italian accent?

"Do I want to waste my time with him just for money?"

"Well, you're already wasting it in that stationery shop. I don't see how that's any different," she pointed out. Norah pouted. What was people's problem with the stationery shop? It was cosy and neat and had all her favourite things in there. Some girls loved bags, some liked shoes. Norah's weakness was stationary. Her idea of heaven was a Muji store.

"I get a forty percent discount," Norah defended.

"That's a huge deal for my stationary addiction."

"Oh Norah, why can't you be a normal teenager?" grandma Joyce said as she took a swig of her wine.

"If I tutor him," Norah went on, "I must be invested morally too. That's a lot of responsibility, getting the applications for uni ready and getting him ready for his mocks. What if I can't do it? What if I let him down?"

"Well then, it'll be his fault for being a moron. You don't come with a guarantee. But you have a brilliant brain. If the teachers at school can't help him, and you can't help him, then only God can help him."

"I think I'll have less trouble if I just work part-time. I came to this town to keep my head low."

"You can't always let your past dominate your present and your future sweetheart. Speaking of your past, didn't you two go to the same school back in London?" Norah went still for a second. Nothing goes unnoticed past Nana.

"No, he was in our rival school but close to us, the one that was down in Hamstead."

"Oh I see. Well anyway, I think you should go for it. At least, you'll be helping someone else. Don't be so self centered."

Norah bristled at the comment and stared at the TV. They watched Simon Cowell boot another contestant off the stage.

"Oh what a dreamboat," grandma sighed as she helped herself to another glass of the Chardonnay. Norah scrunched up her nose.

"Simon? Really?"

"Yes, look at him. He's got the whole macho, alpha male thing going," she said, gesturing at the tv with her wineglass. "Delicious."

Norah rolled her eyes. "Well, you'd like Rafe then."

"Bring him over," she replied with a wink.

Norah looked down at the piece of paper with his number scribbled and the crisp fifty quid note.Did he give her the money straight away because he was confident that she would agree? Or did he assume it would be too hard to give back if she declined his request? Whatever his tactics were, they seemed to work.

She was weighing in on the pros and cons. A small voice inside her head screamed that this was a bad idea. She promised herself to not deal with people like Rafe any more. Her plan was to keep her head down, stay out of trouble or drama, land a scholarship, move back to London and secure a degree and have a badass career.

Tutoring a spoilt, rich, good looking teenager was not part of her plans. Yet the kindness he showed by switching books and the desperation with which he asked her to tutor him was out of the character that Norah initially speculated.

And there's not a job in town that would pay that kind of money.

"What do you think, Luna? Should I do it?" she asked her black cat, who was lying on the floor watching television next to her feet. Luna's ears perked up and in response she began to lick herself. Norah wasn't sure what to make of that.

Letting out a long sigh, she typed up Rafe's number along with a message:

Meet me at the town library tomorrow at 10 o'clock sharp. Bring your last year's grade transcripts and all your books.