Page 14 of The Cotswold Christmas Bookshop

Ryan made a good companion for the rest of the evening. They took it in turns to get the drinks in, and she felt under no pressure to make unnecessary conversation with him, as they were both happy to appreciate the music, dancing along to the upbeat tunes. It was just what Isla had needed. A chance to properly let off some steam and to completely forget any worries, the music loosening her inhibitions.

Towards the end of the evening, people started to drift away. Charlie and Sophia came up and gave her a hug and said they hoped they might get to see her again before Christmas as Amelia was keen to go back for another story-time session at Finch’s. She waved them goodbye and thought, rather poignantly, what a lovely couple they made.

Isla had texted her dad to come and collect her, but it would be at least fifteen minutes before he arrived, so she bought herself one last drink, wondering immediately if it was actually a good idea. She was already feeling light-headed and woozy and her head would probably be throbbing in the morning. At least she could have a lie-in tomorrow as Miriam and Jonathan were going to be covering the shop the next day.

The band cranked up the volume, playing some eighties classics that got everyone up on the floor, clapping and bopping away. Isla hadn’t had so much fun in years, but that last drink was probably one too many as when she twirled around on the spot, she lost her footing, stumbled across the room and grabbed onto Ryan to stop herself from landing in a heap on the floor.

‘Hey, are you okay?’ he asked, genuinely concerned, holding his arms wide as though he might spring into action at any moment to catch her.

‘Great thanks, and sorry!’ she said, laughing, feeling her cheeks burning as she disentangled herself. ‘Although I should probably take that as a sign to get home to my bed. It’s been nice seeing you again, Ryan.’

‘Yes, you too!’ he agreed. ‘We’re normally down here on a Friday night so if you’re ever at a loose end then come and join us.’

‘Thanks.’ She leaned in to hug him goodbye, appreciative of his kindness and friendliness towards her tonight. ‘See you soon.’

As she turned to head out of the pub, her gaze landed on a couple sitting in the window seat, and she faltered, momentarily taken aback. They’d been sitting there all evening, but it was only now that she realised who it was. Guy Madley and a woman. He nodded a greeting across the room, his mouth twisting in a smile which, on the few occasions she’d run into him, had elicited the same unsettling reaction within her. For some reason, seeing him shifted her entire mood. She’d been having a great time, lost in the music and atmosphere, able to forget all her worries, and now his presence gave her a sharp reminder of reality and the uncertain future of the bookshop. She hadn’t spoken to Jonathan or Miriam since Guy’s visit to the shop so she was no closer to knowing if they’d made any firm decisions about its future.

She gave him a tight smile, put her head down and made for the door, but Guy took that moment to ease himself up out of his seat so that she had no way of avoiding his approach.

‘Hi, good to see you. How are you? Funny how we keep running into each other like this.’

Funny or annoying, depending on which way you looked at it. Isla’s glance travelled over to where Guy’s companion was sitting, but she was scrolling on her phone, oblivious or uninterested in what he might be doing. She assumed the woman must be his girlfriend, being of a similar age to Guy.

‘I suppose,’ said Isla, thinking how she hadn’t sought out his company at all, but now he mentioned it, he did have a habit of turning up when she was least expecting it. What she hadn’t figured out was why she always had such a visceral reaction to seeing him. A stirring deep in her stomach. ‘I was just going home,’ she told him.

‘Well, I hope you enjoyed your evening. The band were great, weren’t they?’

‘Yeah, they were brilliant!’ She wasn’t sure if it was the effect of all the booze she’d had tonight or something else, but the conversation seemed excruciatingly awkward. Her gaze gave a surreptitious sweep down the length of his body. Annoyingly, he always managed to look perfectly put together whether he was walking the dog, visiting the shop on business matters, or out, enjoying himself. Tonight, he was wearing black jeans and a black t-shirt beneath a red plaid unbuttoned shirt. Effortlessly stylish. And undeniably hot, if he happened to be your type.

Had Guy noticed her dancing tonight? she wondered fleetingly. She suppressed a sigh, realising he must have done as she’d been right in his line of view and that wouldn’t have been a pretty sight for anyone to behold. Especially when she’d been lurching all over the place, tripping over her own feet.

‘Ahh, that’s my lift,’ she said, making a show of bending down to peer out of the window. ‘I must go,’ she added.

‘Yes, good seeing you, Isla. No doubt we’ll run into each other again soon.’ There was that distinctive, engaging smile, but something else shining in his eyes too. A challenge, perhaps?

She groaned inwardly, wondering why that possibility filled her with a sense of alarm along with a fluttering sense of anticipation too.

11

Monday morning and Isla was delighted to be back at Finch’s, in her happy place. The novelty of working in the shop hadn’t worn off yet. She felt no dread or disappointment at the prospect of a new working week, just an eagerness and enthusiasm to get stuck in. The building always welcomed her back into its fold, wrapping its cosy and inviting arms around her, making her feel safe and content. She particularly appreciated those moments before the first customer arrived, or the phone started ringing, when she could mooch about the rooms, tidying away any stray books or picking up any bits of rubbish. She turned on the fairy lights in the window and along the bookshelves, immediately bringing a festive glow to the store.

‘Hello, Heathcliff,’ she said when she went to open the front door to let the waiting cat inside. He sauntered past her, still a bit stand-offish, but she’d grown fond of the bookshop cat who kept a distant eye on her and had become an unlikely ally; someone to talk to when it was just the pair of them alone together. It made her wonder where he went and what he did when the shop was closed, but clearly, he was more than capable of looking after himself, even if he did seek out the warmth and comfort of the old building most days. She would miss him now if she didn’t see him for any length of time, as she would Henry, who, now she came to think about it, actually hadn’t been in since the middle of last week. Although she supposed he might have come in yesterday when Isla was off. It was funny that in such a short space of time, she’d become so fond of her regulars, human and feline alike.

Today, Isla had a particular job in mind, something she’d wanted to do ever since she’d started back at Finch’s. The selection of romance books was woeful; Jonathan had admitted as much and had given Isla a free rein to order some new additions that she thought might sell well over the Christmas period. She didn’t need any encouragement on that front and luckily, the new books had arrived over the weekend. At the moment, most of the romances were shelved by author name among the general fiction books and Isla wanted to change that and organise a dedicated space for them. She chose a small table and shifted it into the front room, finding a perfect spot for it in the alcove beside the fireplace. She was also able to clear a nearby bookshelf, redistributing those books elsewhere around the shop. It wasn’t a huge space, but there was enough room to make a really cosy romance section.

Isla got to work, spending the rest of the morning arranging the books on the display unit and table, taking time to write a few notes on colour-coded cards, giving pertinent details about each one, then tucking each individual card into a book. She knew that a lot of romance readers chose books based on the tropes within the stories so she wanted to provide as much information as possible.

She picked up a paperback with a bright-pink illustrated cover, the young couple on the front squaring up to each other, and she turned it over to read the blurb on the back, eager to find out more. A forced proximity, small town, second-chance romance sounded right up her street. She pulled out her phone and took a picture of it, or else she would likely forget, a definite addition to her TBR (to-be-read) list.

Isla had always read widely and across many genres. In her line of work, she had to, but she did it for enjoyment’s sake too. She loved a tense psychological thriller, or a cosy crime, and could be swept away by a historical saga, or a modern contemporary novel too, given half the chance. Non-fiction self-help books were something she picked up on a regular basis as well. She was all about improving herself, and she loved a memoir or a biography, or a new hardback cookery book, even if she rarely got around to trying out any of the recipes. Already, she’d given a list of books to her mum that she was hoping to find beneath the tree come Christmas morning.

But romance was the genre she always came back to if she wanted to completely switch off and escape into another world. There was no better feeling than picking up a novel, becoming totally invested in the characters and the beautiful location, imagining herself in the setting as maybe a best friend to the heroine, knowing that it was the first book in a series and there would be several more to follow. Bliss! Whether it was a dark romance mafia series or a high-action ice hockey story, or a cute animal-filled village romance, she was there for them all. The only thing to make the reading experience more enjoyable was if one of her friends was reading the same series at the same time so that they could swap notes and discuss the hero and his motivations in greater depth.

Not that she’d been sharing any book recommendations with her friends recently. She’d been deliberately keeping a low profile, replying to any messages with a breezy response, remarking on how busy it was in the run-up to Christmas and how she’d be in touch soon. It didn’t make her feel good about herself, but she couldn’t face telling her story several times over and being met with her friends’ well-meaning concern. Once she felt better suited to tell them, then she would.

Now, placing a selection of second-chance romances onto the shelf, she pondered over each one, something occurring to her. Were her expectations for romance in her own life formed by reading too many romance novels? Was she holding out for something that didn’t actually exist? Had there been a small part of her that had thought she would get her own second-chance happy ending? That one day she would run into her teenage sweetheart, Charlie, and they would live out their romantic dream that had been destined in the stars since they were teenagers? She gave a wry shake of her head. Look how well that had turned out, she thought, as she neatened up the books on the shelves.

Not that it would impact her reading choices. Romance books shone a light on good and bad relationships, and why shouldn’t she hold out for her own happy ending? There was no way she was going to compromise or settle for second best.