Page 31 of The Cotswold Christmas Bookshop

‘Pardon me?’ said Penny, her head snatching round to look at Isla, which made her and the customer laugh.

‘That’s what it’s called,’ Isla explained to them both. ‘Jólabókaflóðið, which translates to Christmas book flood. It’s a big thing in Iceland. Friends and families come together on Christmas Eve, exchange wrapped books and then settle down for a cosy night of reading and drinking hot chocolate together. It’s a lovely tradition.’

‘We have our own tradition at home,’ Penny piped up. ‘My husband insists we watch Die Hard and have a Chinese takeaway on Christmas Eve. It’s not very traditional or Christmassy but we enjoy it. I can’t see him thinking much to the book-reading thing, but I must admit I like the idea of it.’

‘Doesn’t it sound great?’ said the customer, who was an attractive woman in her twenties. ‘This will be our first Christmas without my dad, he died in February, so we wanted to do something different this year. There will be eight of us at my mum’s – my nan, my sister, my aunts, and cousins, all girls together – so we’ve decided on Christmas Eve, we’re going to change into our matching Christmas pyjamas, have a relaxed supper, we’re all going to prepare a dish each, then exchange books over our meal. The rest of the evening will be spent drinking hot chocolate and reading our new books. Although, we might substitute the mugs of hot chocolate for glasses of Prosecco, for those who want them,’ she said, laughing. ‘It should be fun, and if it turns out well, then it’s something we’ll repeat in future years.’

‘What a wonderful way to kick off the Christmas celebrations,’ said Isla, thinking how she would love to do something similar, but she couldn’t imagine her dad and Jake enjoying it in the same way. Besides, they too had their own Christmas traditions to follow on Christmas Eve round at Mulberry Close. It usually consisted of a supper of cooked ham, made to Diana’s special recipe, caramelised onion sausages, sauté potatoes, red cabbage and cauliflower cheese, along with pickles. They would play card games after dinner before walking the short distance to the village pub where a lot of their friends and neighbours would be gathered. It was always a good night, filled with Christmas tunes, good spirits and laughter, before a group of them would wander off to St Barnabas Church for midnight mass.

Isla enjoyed hearing how other people spent their Christmases, who they might be spending it with and the food they would be eating. Although Isla, through their own family traditions, would miss out on Jólabókaflóðið, she was looking forward to the long, lazy days after Christmas, when she would be able to curl up on the sofa with her new books and spend all day reading, eating and drinking, only punctuated by the occasional walk with Oscar and the family.

‘Would you like us to individually wrap these books for you? There’s a small fee.’ Isla pointed to the notice on the front of the counter.

‘Yes, please.’ The woman smiled. ‘It will save me a job and I’ve got so many more presents to wrap at home.’

‘Don’t they look lovely,’ said Isla, after Penny had diligently wrapped them in different paper, attaching a personalised tag to each one, to avoid any later confusion. ‘I hope you and your family enjoy the celebrations.’

‘I’m sure we will. I’ll let you know how it goes,’ she said with a grin.

Isla could only smile in return. She was getting used to hearing that phrase. A promise from her customers that they would call back into the shop after Christmas to tell her what someone had thought of the book they’d purchased, or to tell her how the celebrations had gone.

There was no point in Isla admitting that she wouldn’t actually be here after Christmas – it would be of little consequence to her customers – but it didn’t stop her from feeling sad that she wouldn’t get to see them again or to hear their stories.

‘Honestly, it’s beginning to feel proper Christmassy now, don’t you think?’ said Isla with a gratified sigh.

‘Definitely,’ said Penny. ‘Although if I never have to wrap another present again, then that day will not come a day too soon,’ she said emphatically.

21

Isla checked her reflection in the round mirror that hung on a chain in the small bathroom in the bookshop. She’d checked her watch and there was still half an hour to go until closing time, but the main rush of customers had already left and Penny had ushered her away to get ready.

The lighting in the room wasn’t ideal, but Isla quickly changed the sweatshirt she had been wearing all day for a black lacy top and swapped her comfy trainers for a pair of heeled boots. She pulled out her make-up bag from her rucksack, and applied a loose covering of powder, some bronze-hued eye shadow, a coating of mascara and a sweep of lip gloss. She ran her fingers through her blonde hair so that it fell nicely into her messy bob and then peered closer into the mirror, more in hope than expectation that she was at least looking semi-decent, because it didn’t really offer a great view.

Wandering back into the main shop with one eye on the front door, her nerves began building. She’d had several conversations with Guy, and while some of them had been fun and enjoyable, others had been embarrassing, awkward even. She only hoped they could avoid anything like that tonight, but going for a drink, just the two of them, certainly added a frisson to the proceedings. For all intents and purposes, it was a date and she was well out of practice on that front. What if they discovered they had nothing in common or struggled to find anything to talk about? She shook her head. She couldn’t worry about that now. If the worst happened, she would just have to make her excuses and leave.

‘Don’t you scrub up well?’

‘Do you think?’ Isla asked Penny, giving a twirl in the middle of the bookshop. ‘I had no idea what to wear. It’s been a long time since I’ve been on a date.’

‘You look gorgeous. Now, you just need to roll back your shoulders, plaster on a smile and you’ll be good to go.’

‘Thanks, Penny,’ she said, right at the same time as Guy walked through the door. If she’d been harbouring any nerves about seeing him again then coming face to face with him in the flesh, knowing that he’d come specifically for her, to whisk her off on a date, brought all those butterflies fluttering to the surface. Tonight, over dark trousers and a roll-top jumper, he was wearing a smart camel overcoat that she hadn’t seen him in before. He was definitely channelling, and owning, the man-about-town vibe.

He approached her with an expectant expression.

‘Am I too early? I could wait or come back in ten minutes.’

‘No,’ said Penny. ‘You two get off. I can close up here.’

‘Are you sure?’ asked Isla.

‘Absolutely. You go and have a lovely time,’ said Penny, pointing towards the front door as if they might not know which way to go.

Guy held the door open for Isla and ushered her through.

‘You look great, by the way,’ he said, his gaze running the length of her body appreciatively, as she brushed past him, her excitement building as she caught his scent. She hadn’t imagined it; he really did smell that good! Manoeuvring around her, and with the gentlest of touches on the small of her back, he took the position closest to the road, and Isla couldn’t help thinking what a lovely gesture it was. It was something her dad always did too. While her feminist sensibilities made her appreciate that she didn’t need protecting or shielding from the busy road, she could still accept it as a gentlemanly act of kindness.

As they walked along the high street, Isla’s gaze travelled up to the rooftops, the uniform white lights twinkling up high against the gorgeous stone buildings. The shopfronts were lit up too, casting a festive glow over the pavements. The sounds of conversation filtered around them as people did the last of their shopping and wandered in and out of the bars and cafés.