Page 10 of The Cotswold Christmas Bookshop

‘Excuse me, can you help me, please?’

Isla was pleased of the distraction.

‘Of course,’ she said to a middle-aged woman who had been browsing the shelves for the last half an hour.

‘It’s my choice of read for my book club this month, and I’m struggling to pick. It needs to be a Christmas book, but I’m not sure whether to go for a romance – there seems to be loads of those – or maybe a thriller. Do you have any suggestions?’

‘I have loads of them!’ Isla beamed, delighted to be asked. She’d started on her own Christmas reading and had devoured several festive-themed books already. She loved escaping into a world of snowstorms, pine trees, gingerbread lattes and handsome heroes. It was the perfect relaxation.

‘These are this year’s releases,’ she explained, guiding the woman to a table where the books were piled high. ‘I’ve read this one.’ She held up a book with an illustrated picture of an English pub on the cover, a black Labrador sitting by the door, and snow falling all around him. ‘It’s a proper escape and has a bit of everything. Family, friendships, a lot of drama, and of course some romance. It’s such a wonderful read, really uplifting. I’m sure everyone would love it. Or maybe you’d prefer a cosy English mystery. This one…’ she reached for another paperback ‘…is set around a village hall where the local community are gathering for a starry night feast. An unexpected snowstorm cuts off the power, stranding everyone in the hall overnight, and someone is murdered in plain sight. It’s a lot of fun.’

‘Mmm.’ The woman ummed and ahhed as she perused the backs of the books. ‘I’m not sure. Some of the other members can be a bit funny about more popular fiction. If you know what I mean?’ The woman cast her a meaningful look, and Isla nodded. She knew from her own experience how much snobbery there was in some book clubs. Some people looked down on genre fiction, like romance and crime, taking against it because of the catching covers or because they were considered to be easy reads. Isla had never understood it. Wasn’t that the whole point of reading? To be entertained?

‘Don’t get me wrong,’ the woman continued. ‘I love these types of books, and will definitely read them on your recommendation, but I wonder if I need to find something more…’ She searched for the right word, but it clearly slipped out of her reach.

‘How about a classic?’ suggested Isla. ‘Christmas is the perfect time to revisit one of the old favourites, something like Little Women, which I always think is wonderfully nostalgic and filled with Christmas cheer. Or what about A Christmas Carol? I reread it every year, and it embodies the spirit of Christmas. Also, it’s a novella so it works perfectly for this time of year when people are busy.’

‘Really? I hadn’t thought of something like that but it’s such a good idea. We keep saying that we ought to read a classic. And I’ve seen the Muppet movie, but I’ve never actually read the book.’ She chuckled. ‘Do you have a copy?’

‘I’m certain we do,’ said Isla, wandering off to the shelves where the classics were kept. She pulled out a beautiful hardback copy that was very reasonably priced and handed it to the woman.

‘Oh my goodness, isn’t that lovely,’ she said, sweeping a hand over the clothbound cover, turning it over to view it from every angle. There was a whole bookcase dedicated to these special editions which were individual, colourful and joyously tactile. Often, Isla would take them off the shelves just to experience the sensation of them between her hands.

‘That’s it decided.’ The woman held the cover up to her nose, taking a sneaky sniff of its aroma, making Isla grin, because she had been known to do the same thing before. ‘I’m going to take this for book club, but I’m also going to take the other two books you mentioned. Do you know what I’m going to do with them?’

Isla shook her head.

‘I’m going to wrap them up and pop them under the tree as a present to myself.’ She rubbed her hands together gleefully. ‘Thank you so much for your suggestions. You’ve been really helpful.’

‘You’re very welcome.’

Isla felt uplifted by the time the woman left the shop. There was nothing she liked more than sharing her love of reading and books with like-minded people, and knowing that she had helped someone find what they hadn’t even known they were searching for gave her a great sense of satisfaction. Not to mention that last customer of hers had, in fact, given her a really good idea.

Stocking fillers. She would wrap some of the recent paperback releases in festive paper for those people who were pushed for time or inspiration and wanted to pick up a present ready to gift. She would also do the same with some children’s annuals and popular reads for different age groups. Not only would they hopefully prove a hit with the customers, but they would also add some festive charm dotted around the shop.

8

Within a few days, the shop was looking suitably cosy and festive. Isla had hung fairy lights around the fireplaces and across the top of the bookshelves. Her mum had been right; a bit of sparkle went a long way. She placed the pinecones in the window and on any free spaces on the shelves and tucked the holly and berries that she’d gathered from the woods, behind the picture frames. She lit a scented candle on the shelf behind the counter which filled the space with the scent of cloves, dried fruits and cinnamon.

She’d even put up a Christmas tree in the window, made entirely from books. It had taken her some time to get it right, choosing a selection of red, green and gold-coloured books of different sizes for the purpose, swapping their position on the tree stack until she was happy that it created the desired effect. She’d also made a display of the wrapped books, some in gold and red wrapping, and others in plain brown wrapping for an old-fashioned, nostalgic effect.

‘If you knock my tree over, then I won’t be happy, Heathcliff,’ she told the cat who had immediately gone to check her creative endeavours and was doing his best to climb to the top.

‘Leave it alone!’ She attempted to shoo him away, but one thing she had learned about the cat in the short time she had got to know him was that he did exactly what he liked, whenever he liked.

She sighed, deciding it was better for her peace of mind if she didn’t watch what he was up to, hoping his curiosity would soon wane, and he would go back to sleeping in front of the fire.

She picked up her phone as a distraction and saw a couple of messages from Jake.

Jake

Hey sis, what’s up?

Mum says you’re home and working in Finch’s? What’s that all about?

Isla

Yeah, just helping them out in the run-up to Christmas. Gets me out the house! Or else Mum will have me making wreaths & paper chains all day!