Page 17 of The Cotswold Christmas Bookshop

This had made Isla feel marginally better, but how would they know if anything was wrong? All she knew about Henry was that he lived alone and that he didn’t have any family to check up on him. She only hoped he had some good neighbours keeping a close eye on him.

She wasn’t sure why or how she had got so emotionally attached to someone she barely knew, but as he’d alluded to on one of their earlier meetings, he really was part of the furniture at the bookshop. It didn’t seem right that he wasn’t there.

‘Where is it that he lives?’ Isla had asked Miriam, wondering if Henry had a long walk into town.

‘In the bungalows at the back of Princes Park.’

So not a long walk at all, maybe ten minutes at the most. She hoped it wasn’t her continued presence that had put Henry off from visiting. Perhaps with it being the Christmas season and all the changes that she’d made recently, he’d found it too busy and overstimulating, especially if he was looking to find a quiet corner in which to browse the books and relax. Obviously, it wasn’t a library or a café, but she liked to think that they could accommodate everyone, even those customers who weren’t interested in actually buying anything. Recently, they’d been taking part in the local Christmas treasure hunt run by the town council, and they were a checkpoint on the map, with a secret clue hidden amongst the bookshelves. It had meant there was a regular flow of children and parents coming through the door, the bell tinkling constantly, with people all eager to solve the riddle contained in the printed leaflet they held in their hands. It had certainly been a good way of bringing new customers into the shop, especially those who had never ventured off the main street to find Finch’s before. Isla was certain it had resulted in some extra sales, because often those visitors would stay to have a good mooch around and would inevitably pick up a couple of purchases too. Perhaps Henry had decided to go to the social club instead for some peace and quiet. She could hardly blame him.

‘Excuse me, are you Isla?’

‘Yes!’ She looked up to see a woman in her forties standing in front of her with an expectant expression on her face.

‘Just the person I’m looking for. You come highly recommended by a friend of mine. She said you were very good at suggesting books for people to give as gifts.’

‘Really? Well, that’s nice to hear,’ she said with a smile, wondering who it might have been. She met so many different people during the course of the day that it could have been anyone, but she was pleased, at least, to have made a good impression on someone. ‘That’s why I’m here. How can I help?’

It was the part of the job she enjoyed the most: chatting to customers, discovering what their reading habits were and if they were looking for a book for themselves or for someone else. It was surprising the topics of conversation that came up and how much people felt able to confide in her. She put it down to the magic of the bookshop, the way the walls of the building radiated a peace and stillness built over several decades. The cosy atmosphere provided a steadfast and reassuring presence in an ever-changing and challenging world.

‘My best friend has had a really tough year. She’s gone through a bitter break-up; her husband walked out on her for another woman and she’s been left to bring up their two boys on her own. Honestly, you wouldn’t believe the way he’s treated her; she was completely devastated, and it’s almost as though he doesn’t want to know his own children.’

‘That’s awful.’ Isla nodded sympathetically.

‘I’m putting together a hamper of goodies for her at Christmas. I’ve already found some pamper products, a heated eye mask and a scented candle, but I want to put a book in as well because I know she loves to read when she can find the time. It’s difficult to know what to buy though because I don’t want to get her anything that might trigger her or bring up bad memories. So, no divorces, or betrayals.’

‘I understand completely. She’s lucky to have you looking out for her. I bet she really appreciates your friendship. Anyway, I’m sure we can find something suitable for your hamper. What do you think to a self-help, personal development book, something focussing on taking control of your own life and moving forward? Or are you thinking more along the lines of some escapist fiction that will take her into a completely different world and make her forget all her worries?’

‘Oh yes, definitely the latter. Something that’s uplifting and will give her some hope for the future. A sense that she still might find her own happy ending. At the moment, everything is looking a bit bleak.’

‘Come with me,’ said Isla. ‘I know exactly the type of thing.’

Isla led the customer to the women’s fiction section, where there was a wide selection of books with a central female character at the core who was overcoming obstacles to rebuild their lives in their forties and fifties.

‘Really, you’re spoilt for choice so do feel free to have a browse, although I can definitely recommend this one.’ Isla pulled out a book that she had previously read about a single mother of teenagers who up sticks and moves three hundred miles to take on a job at a country estate in the Scottish Highlands. ‘This is so much fun; you feel as though you’re there with Stella as she takes on the role of looking after the elderly owners of the estate, along with their menagerie of animals and dealing with her grumpy teenagers at the same time. Then of course, Alistair, the laird, makes an appearance and there’s plenty of sparks and drama. Honestly, I think your friend would thoroughly enjoy it. Or else, there’s this one…’

Isla continued to pull out a succession of books, many of which she had read or else were high up on her TBR list. She gave a brief summary of each one, the customer’s face lighting up in interest hearing the details.

‘My goodness, you really do know your stuff, don’t you? Look, I’m going to take the Scottish Highlands novel. If she doesn’t like it, then I know that I will. I can borrow it after she’s read it, so it’s a win-win.’ The woman’s infectious laugh had Isla joining in with her.

‘Sounds like a good plan to me. Is there anything else you need?’

‘Yes! You’ve reminded me! I need a Beano annual, if you have one. My son’s sixteen now, but I’ve bought him an annual for his stocking every year since he was four. I did broach the subject of stopping. I wondered if he hadn’t outgrown it, but he was absolutely outraged that I should even consider the idea. Honestly, you would have thought that I’d told him that Santa Claus doesn’t exist!’ she said, giggling.

‘Well, that’s fair enough. I always loved an annual when I was young.’ They brought back a raft of memories for Isla, lying on her front on the carpet, propped up on her elbows, flipping through a new annual, with her knees bent up high behind her. She would read the stories, fill in the puzzles and eagerly complete the colouring pages, well into her teenage years too. ‘I still read some of my favourite books from childhood now,’ she admitted.

She had them lined up on her bookshelf at home – a Beatrix Potter collection that she’d received as a baby as a christening gift, all the Roald Dahl novels in a boxset, the Sophie and Friends collection, as well as The Babysitters Club series which she’d so adored as a young girl. They were all too precious for her to ever part with, so she could understand exactly how the customer’s son felt about his Beano annuals.

‘Here we are.’ Isla returned to the main counter with the annual and popped it, along with the other book, in a pink and white candy-striped paper bag, folding over the top, before handing it over to the customer.

‘Thank you so much. My friend was right. This place is an absolute delight, and you’ve been very helpful. I’ll definitely be back. I’ll need to come and tell you what my friend thinks of the book.’

‘Oh yes, please do,’ said Isla, thinking how lovely the woman was. Then again, the majority of the visitors to Finch’s were friendly and chatty. It made a change from her job in London, where most of her interactions were via email, telephone calls, and video meetings, and were usually intense, stressful and time-pressed.

Here, she enjoyed meeting people in person, having the time to have a leisurely conversation with her customers, often talking about subjects way beyond the remit of books, but also relishing the chance to solve at least one of their problems simply by finding the right book from the shelves.

It was only as she waved goodbye to the woman that she realised with a start that she might not actually see her again or ever find out what her friend thought of the book. Who knew where Isla would be in January? Probably back in London, doing some serious job hunting. Not in Finch’s, that was for sure, and if she wasn’t here to make sure that the bookshop opened every day, then who would?

14