Page 19 of The Cotswold Christmas Bookshop

‘You’ve been talking to my mother again, haven’t you?’

She cast him a sideways glance, registering the strong lines of his profile, the way his mouth upturned at her question.

He gave a casual shrug by way of response, his eyes catching her gaze for a second.

‘Well, I couldn’t possibly say!’

‘Yes, it has its moments, for sure, but mainly, it’s like any other job, with the same stresses and pressures. Saying that, there’s a lot I love about it still.’

It was true. There was no better feeling than discovering a raw, first-draft manuscript from a new author, recognising its potential and identifying a place for it within the market. Working alongside the author and the editorial and sales teams, she relished coming up with an overall strategy for the book, guiding the work through edits, production and marketing to publication. It was always a team effort, and she felt an immense sense of pride when she finally held a copy of the finished book in her hands. In recent months though, her focus, by necessity, had shifted from working on a day-to-day basis with her authors to spending most of her time poring over spreadsheets, forecasting plans, and profit and loss figures.

‘That’s great. How did you get into it in the first place? Was it something you always wanted to do?’

‘I suppose it was.’ It was easy to open up to Guy when she was walking alongside him, not having to look into his eyes as she spoke. He seemed genuinely interested in what she had to say, or else he was just being polite. Either way, she found it easy to talk to him, unlike on those previous occasions when they’d met and there’d been an awkward energy between them.

‘I was an avid reader from a very young age, and when I went to school, English was my favourite subject. I loved writing stories and poems. I even wrote my own book when I was about nine. A story about a girl called Isla, funnily enough, who lived on a farm with lots of ponies and pigs. I drew the pictures, wrote the words and made a cover, then stapled it all together. I’m sure I still have it somewhere.’

‘So, all the signs were there then?’

‘Yeah.’ How could this man, this relative stranger, get her talking about her job, the job she’d loved, when she’d been trying her best to forget all about it? Although she would stop at telling him that she had been unceremoniously let go. She hadn’t been able to admit that to anyone yet, even though she knew she would have to at some point. Now, she had some sympathy and understanding for those people who she had sometimes read about in the papers, those who had lost their jobs but had kept up the pretence of still going to work every day, leaving the house at the same time each morning and returning home at the same time at night, spending the empty hours of the day mooching around the shopping centre or sitting on a park bench. Not that it would ever come to that for Isla, but how would she be able to move on if she couldn’t even tell those closest to her what had happened?

‘What about you?’ she asked, eager to turn the subject away from herself. ‘Have you always lived around here?’

‘No, I moved here a couple of years ago, and before that, I was in Bramlingham, but I have moved about a lot. I grew up in Hertfordshire, lived in Manchester for a few years, and then ended up here. Funny, but it’s the place I’ve felt the most settled. It’s a beautiful part of the country, but still close enough to rail connections and motorways to get into London or Birmingham if you need to. The best of both worlds.’

Every time he turned to face her and gave her the benefit of that wide smile, it took her by surprise, as though she was seeing it for the first time, stirring something within her.

‘So, what was it that brought you here? Work…’ She faltered. ‘Family?’

She’d been about to ask if it had been love but something stopped her. It seemed to be crossing a line. If he wanted to talk about his partner, then he would surely do so.

‘A bit of both, actually. My dad lived in Bramlingham and I’d gone to live with him for a while. I didn’t see much of him when I was growing up because my parents were divorced, but we grew closer as adults. I’m glad we were able to have that time together.’ She heard the note of wistfulness in his voice.

‘Oh…’

‘He died a couple of years ago,’ he said, answering her unasked question.

‘I’m sorry to hear that.’

‘Thanks. It came out of the blue, so it was a big shock at the time. I was working for him in his property consultancy so, although it wasn’t the plan, the natural next step was for me to take over the business. Funny how life has a habit of throwing you a curveball when you’re least expecting it.’

‘That’s true,’ she said, falling quiet for a moment, having a deep sympathy for the man beside her. She couldn’t imagine losing one of her parents. It would be the worst thing to happen to her, so she felt an inkling of the hurt Guy must have been through. Thankfully, the sight of the dogs ahead, larking about together, was a welcome distraction from the intensity of their conversation and soon had them laughing at their antics.

‘Honestly, Lottie can be such a goofball at times, but she really helped me through that dark period. I think dogs have a sixth sense about these things. She would always know when I needed cheering up. She would come and climb up on top of me on the sofa and look up at me with those adoring eyes. It was a pretty hard combination to resist.’

There was that smile again, and Isla could understand entirely why Lottie might be so enamoured with Guy. She found herself wondering about his girlfriend, whether she had been at his side when he lost his father or if theirs was a new relationship. In fact, she was doing far too much wondering about Guy’s love life. She turned her head to look at him as he went on.

‘She was the one who made me get out of bed in the mornings. She still needed feeding and walking, so it gave me a reason to carry on each day when all I really wanted to do was hide away. Life goes on, right?’

Isla nodded. ‘Dogs are the best! Especially Lottie, who is clearly well-trained, and devoted to you. Oscar, on the other hand, is another matter. He’s great at home, on a one-to-one basis, when you have his full-on attention. In fact, he’s a real clingy boy, so you can’t even leave the room without him following you, but as soon as we’re outside and there’s a more attractive proposition on the horizon, then he doesn’t want to know us at all.’ Isla laughed.

‘Yeah, but I’m sure you wouldn’t change him for the world.’

‘Never!’ She shook her head, grinning. Isla missed Oscar when she was in London: having someone to snuggle up with on the sofa, someone who would listen intently as she offloaded her problems and someone that she could enjoy long walks with in the countryside. She bit back a smile. Thinking about it, she probably needed a boyfriend, not a dog, when she was back in London, as well as a new job.

‘Look, we’re going to head off this way,’ she said when they reached the point in the path where the track separated. Guy was messing with her head in a way that she couldn’t have anticipated and certainly couldn’t make sense of. She was even imagining that he looked disappointed when she told him they were going in the opposite direction.

‘Sure. I meant to ask, are you going to The White Hart this Friday? They’ve got a local covers band playing. I’ve seen them a couple of times before and they’re pretty good. They usually play a selection of eighties and nineties hits, which always goes down well with the crowd.’