Page 20 of The Cotswold Christmas Bookshop

‘Ah right. Sounds like fun.’ It was kind of him to mention it, and she did have a standing invitation from Ryan to join him and his friends in the pub on a Friday night, but as welcoming as Ryan was, she would probably feel like an outsider within his tight-knit friendship group, especially if Charlie and Sophia were there. Also, did she really want to spend an evening in close company with Guy and his girlfriend, making polite conversation? She knew the answer to that question.

‘I’ve got plans on Friday,’ she told him, ‘but you have a good time, won’t you?’ She clipped the lead onto Oscar’s collar and gave a wave over her shoulder as she walked away, grateful that she’d had the opportunity to get to know Guy Madley a little better. She’d seen a softer, more human side to him today and he couldn’t be all bad if he was so attached to his dog. Her curiosity was definitely piqued by the tall and handsome stranger with the sparkling eyes and soporific voice, but for her own peace of mind, she’d probably needed to stay out of Guy Madley’s way as much as she possibly could.

15

On Monday, Isla left work at lunchtime, with Miriam taking charge of the shop for the rest of the day. They’d managed to come up with a workable solution to the rota, which meant that they could open every day, which came as a great relief to Isla, especially as they had been so busy recently. She was happy to cover most of the shifts, with Penny coming in three mornings a week to help out and Miriam covering the other mornings. Jonathan made an appearance occasionally to check on the sales figures and to see if there was anything Isla needed help with, but otherwise, he was happy to leave the day-to-day running of the shop to her.

It suited Isla just fine. She enjoyed the autonomy and freedom of being her own boss, opening up in the mornings and closing up at night, reflecting on another successful day’s business, the people she’d met, the books she’d discovered and the conversations she’d had. Often, in her head, she indulged in her own little fantasy that it was her bookshop, channelling all her main character energy as she went about her work every day, thinking how straightforward life would be if this were her reality. Of course, there were daily issues as there were in any other job – late deliveries, missing orders and the occasional tricky customer – although they were few and far between, but Isla saw those problems as easily surmountable. Something she was keen to give her energy to in finding a solution.

Later that afternoon, she had a dental appointment and afterwards, she would head home, as she was looking forward to doing some Christmas baking with her mum, something they did every year together. They would put some festive tunes on the radio and then they would bake mince pies for the freezer, some gingerbread cookies that they would decorate and hang on the tree, and some yummy rocky road, which Isla could never resist. It was always such a lovely bonding activity where they would chat, sing along to the music, dance around the kitchen and laugh over every little thing. She only hoped the subject of her job wouldn’t come up because she really hated having to lie to her mum.

First though, there was something she needed to do, so she headed down the cobbled street onto the high street. Outside, it hadn’t got any warmer, but it didn’t matter as it felt suitably seasonal, and she simply snuggled down deeper into her coat, pulling her collar up around her neck and thrusting her gloved hands into her pockets. The streets were busy with shoppers, the joyful tones of Christmas carols rang out from the church where she suspected the choir was rehearsing, and the aroma of coffee from the mobile stall wafted in the air. Isla walked the length of the high street, soaking up the atmosphere before taking the path that led into Princes Park. Here, the cold was palpable in the remnants of a frost lingering on the ground and on the bare branches of the trees. The children’s play equipment stood empty and the swings gently swayed in the wind, only adding to the chilly feeling in the air. Isla strode on through the park, exiting the gates on the other side, and then turned to the left where a row of bungalows stood. She hesitated, realising she had no idea what number she needed, although fortunately, there were only four properties in the row so if she had to knock at each one to find him then she would do so. First though, she wandered up and down outside, trying to see through the windows, hoping she might catch a glimpse of Henry, but when that offered no clue, she was relieved to see a woman leaving one of the bungalows, pushing a personal shopping trolley.

‘Hello, I wonder if you can help me? I’m looking for Henry.’ Isla quickly realised that was probably as much as she could say about him, as she didn’t even know his surname. ‘He lives in one of these houses, but I don’t know which one,’ she explained.

‘Who wants to know?’ said the elderly lady, sticking out her bottom jaw and frowning. Isla had to wonder if the lady didn’t watch too many crime dramas, as it was clear that she wasn’t going to give any information away unless Isla could actually convince the woman that she came with good intentions.

‘I’m Isla, a friend of Henry. Well, when I say friend, I work in Finch’s, the bookshop in town. Henry comes in on a regular basis, but I haven’t seen him in over a week, and I was worried about him. I just wanted to check that he was okay.’

‘Huh, well he looked all right to me when I saw him yesterday. It’s the house at the end that you want,’ the lady said, indicating the relevant property with a nod of her head.

‘Thank you, that’s really kind of you. I’ll go and give him a knock.’

If Isla had thought that the lady would go on her way then she was mistaken because the woman followed Isla as she walked up the path to the front door, and waited on the pavement, watching Isla suspiciously all the time. Isla gave her a tight smile before turning to knock on the door. She was hugely relieved, a few moments later, when Henry opened the door to greet her, looking remarkably fit and well.

‘Henry! I hope you don’t mind me calling round like this, but we haven’t seen you in the shop for a while and I’ve been wondering how you are.’

‘Have you?’ Henry leaned to one side to look round Isla at the lady still watching their interaction closely. He raised a hand to wave at her.

‘Everything all right, Henry?’ she called.

‘All good, thanks, Babs. I’ll catch up with you later.’

With that, the woman seemed satisfied and wandered off, still unable to bring herself to smile at Isla, but that didn’t bother Isla. She could understand that the woman had simply been looking out for her friend.

‘Come in, Isla. It’s lovely to see you.’

She followed Henry into the hallway then through into the compact living area that had a two-seater sofa and an armchair, positioned near to a glowing electric fire, and at the other end, overlooking the garden, there was a small dining table with two chairs. On the mantlepiece were some Christmas cards and framed photos of a woman, who Isla assumed must be Henry’s wife.

‘Let me pop the kettle on. Would you like a tea or a coffee?’

‘Well, I really don’t want to intrude on your time. I just wanted⁠—’

‘Nonsense,’ Henry said defiantly. ‘You’re here now so you might as well stay for a drink. I don’t get too many visitors.’

‘Thank you then, I’ll have a tea, please. No sugar.’

While Henry went off to make the drinks, Isla mooched around the living room, looking out the front window and back, thinking what a lovely situated place it was, backing onto the park and within walking distance of the town centre. The neighbours seemed friendly too – well, towards Henry at least. All around the house was evidence of a woman’s touch in the floral fabrics in the curtains and cushions, and the fine china ornaments in the display cabinet.

Isla went across to examine the photos dotted around the surfaces.

‘Are you looking at my Ruby?’ Henry had reappeared. ‘She was a real beauty in her day, and a very clever woman too. She was headmistress of the local junior school. Everybody around here remembers her fondly. I still talk to Ruby all the time.’

‘That’s so lovely,’ said Isla. ‘You must miss her terribly.’

‘I do. There’s a part of me that still thinks she’s here, especially if I go out for the day and return, I half-expect to hear her voice, Is that you, Henry? when I come through the front door. Anyway, it’s very nice of you to call round, Isla. I’ve not popped my clogs yet, if that was what you were worried about?’

‘No, not at all,’ she said, disingenuously, because that thought had been uppermost in her mind. Now she realised that she had been worrying unnecessarily, and she only hoped she hadn’t offended him by coming here to check up on him.