Page 22 of The Cotswold Christmas Bookshop

‘Thanks, Henry. You’re absolutely right. I know I will have to tell people at some point, but it’s finding the right moment. All the time I’m busy at the bookshop, I don’t really have to think about it.’

‘I always think with these things that it’s easier to come out with it straight away, rather than putting it off. Otherwise, it builds up to something insurmountable in your mind. Do you have a boyfriend or a husband you can confide in?’ Henry ventured.

‘No.’ Isla shook her head. If she were anyone else, she might have felt sorry for herself. No permanent job, no boyfriend and no idea what she was going to do next. ‘You won’t mention it to anyone, will you?’

‘Of course not, your secret’s safe with me.’ He held a finger to his lips. ‘But for your own sake, I would advise you to tell others sooner rather than later. You’ll feel better for it.’

‘Thanks, Henry. I will do,’ said Isla, although she had no intention of taking his advice any time soon.

16

The following day, Isla arrived at Finch’s with a tote bag filled with a selection of Tupperware boxes, each containing a variety of delicious baked goods. The marathon cooking session with her mum had been wholly successful, but they’d got slightly carried away and produced so many more cakes and biscuits and mince pies than one family could reasonably eat, even with several batches going into the freezer. Diana was going to gift some bakes to the church, and to her neighbours, and Isla had brought some in for Jonathan, Miriam and Penny, and she’d decided she would also take round a batch to Henry after work too. Only she would have no need to do that now because she was very relieved when Henry turned up in the shop later that morning.

‘Henry! I’m very pleased to see you.’ She walked out from behind the counter and greeted him with a hug.

His face lit up in a wide smile. ‘Well, I thought I’d better pop along, seeing as my absence has been noted. How are you feeling today after our little chat?’

‘So much better, thanks, Henry. In fact, I’ve brought you some home-baked Christmas goodies as a thank you.’ She went and found her bag and pulled out a box, prising off the lid to show Henry the treats inside. ‘You can take these home with you. We’ve got mince pies, mini Christmas cakes and some cranberry muffins.’

‘Oh goodness me, they look delightful. You know, my Ruby was a great baker. There was always something delicious waiting in the cake tin. I do miss her, in so many ways,’ he said sadly, before gathering himself. ‘Well, these are making my mouth water. How will I possibly wait until I get home?’

‘Look go and sit down. You might need to tip Heathcliff out of your seat first. It’s fairly quiet at the moment so I’ll make us a coffee and we can have one of these now. We won’t make a habit of it though, because then all our customers will be asking for cakes!’

Everything seemed well with the world now that Henry was back and Heathcliff was stalking through the rooms as though he owned the place. The shop felt suitably festive with the Christmas books out on display and with extra Christmas touches including holly and berries, green garlands and extra fairy lights along the shelves that Isla couldn’t help adding to each day. After delivering a coffee and a mince pie to Henry, Isla returned to the counter and pulled out the stool, settling down with a new celebrity biography that had come in this morning. Taking extra special care not to drop any crumbs, she flicked through the pages, looking at the glossy photos, enjoying the escape to the red carpet and an array of wonderful designer gowns. She was so engrossed that she only looked up when she became aware of someone standing in front of her. She closed the book, putting it back beneath the counter and looked up to greet them.

‘Good morning, Isla. I come bearing gifts.’ Guy Madley handed over a now familiar crème brûlée latte, delivering it with a twinkle in his eye as he popped it on the counter in front of her. She observed him dispassionately. He was undeniably good-looking, and seeing him up close, catching a whiff of that gorgeous scent of his, was a reminder of how much his presence involuntarily affected her whole being. She didn’t like it at all.

This was becoming far too much of a coincidence, him turning up on one pretext or another, trying to inveigle her with his charm and a seductive smile on his lips. If she didn’t know better, she might believe he was flirting with her, but that didn’t sit right with her at all, knowing that he was already in a relationship. What was his game? Leading her on as though he might be interested in her in that way. Or was it simply an act so that he could get her onside to help ease the way in any property negotiations with Jonathan and Miriam?

She peered at him more closely, looking for clues to his real intentions.

‘Thank you, but you don’t need to bring me gifts. I’ve just had a coffee.’ She sounded ungrateful even to her own ears.

He took an exaggerated glance at her half-empty mug. ‘Ah yes, but not a creamy, caramely, chocolatey one. With marshmallows. I thought you liked these. I was hoping that it might become our thing. And it’s my treat. It being the season of goodwill and all that.’

Our thing?

She wasn’t entirely sure what he meant by a thing, but surely, she should be in on the arrangement if they were going to have a thing together. Notwithstanding the fact that she had no desire to have any kind of thing, even a light flirtation, with someone in a relationship.

‘Well, thank you, anyway, but I should probably get on now,’ she said, wiping some stray crumbs from off the top of the counter.

‘Before you do, I had hoped you might be able to help me. I’m looking for a book.’ He lifted his eyebrows, his brown eyes holding her gaze, his mouth doing that funny thing of gently twitching at the sides, as though he was in on some private joke.

Putting her irritation to one side, she gathered up her professionalism from somewhere deep in the depths of her stomach.

‘You’ve come to the right place then,’ she said with cool detachment. ‘Was it a certain book you were looking for?’

‘No, I need some ideas. It’s for a Christmas present. For that one person who has everything.’ Even when he gave a dismissive shrug, he did it in such a becoming manner that Isla, despite her best intentions, found herself warming to him, wanting to match his friendliness.

‘Ahh… okay.’ This was the perfect opportunity to find out more about Guy and his life. ‘Is it for your girlfriend?’ she asked.

His brow furrowed and his lip curled in a gesture of doubt, his gaze scanning her face.

Girlfriend. An old-fashioned word in many respects. Perhaps he didn’t refer to her in that way.

‘I mean your… partner?’ she said confidently, which was met with a head tilt from Guy, his mouth now pursed, shifting from side to side, as though he was chewing something over. Every movement of Guy’s was exaggerated and heightened, and she felt a heat run up her neck.

She’d had several awkward conversations with Guy before, and this was shaping up to be another one. Why did it have to be so difficult? What was it about this man that so unsettled her? Now he made a show of opening up his jacket, patting down his inside pockets on each side, as though he might be searching for something, and looking over each shoulder too, before addressing her with a mischievous twinkle in his eye.