Page 4 of The Cotswold Christmas Bookshop

Isla quickly pulled up an image of the book on her phone, showing it to the man, whose face lit up in recognition.

‘Yes, that’s the one. Amazing! How did you know?’

‘Ahh,’ said Miriam, laughing. ‘Isla used to work here. She’s a treasure and shares our love for books.’ Then, moments later: ‘Oh, it looks like we can help you after all.’ Jonathan had returned, clutching the book that Isla had identified.

‘There goes one happy customer,’ said Isla a few minutes later when the man left with his book wrapped in a brown paper bag. ‘His girlfriend doesn’t know what a lucky escape she had there. She’s getting a brilliant book to read instead of some boring smellies. I’d forgotten how satisfying it is to make a sale.’

‘Oh darling, we often talk about you, don’t we, Jon? You were the best assistant we’ve ever had in here. We call you the book whisperer, because you were always so good with the customers and knew exactly the right book to recommend to them.’

Isla had started working at Finch’s as a Saturday girl when she was sixteen, while studying for her A levels. Jonathan and Miriam had taken her under their wing and taught her all aspects of the business: how to manage the stock system and how to order books, but what she had delighted in most of all was dealing with the customers. It had always given her such a thrill to chat to people, to share her love of books with other bibliophiles or to help those in search of a gift for someone else. In the quiet moments, she would idly scan the shelves, pulling out unknown books at random and slowly thumbing through the pages to discover the delights inside.

She had felt a wrench when she’d had to leave, knowing how much she would miss the shop, the customers, and Jonathan and Miriam especially. They didn’t have children of their own so treated her as a surrogate daughter and were filled with pride when she aced her exams and secured her place at university. They celebrated all her successes and encouraged her in her decision to pursue a career in publishing. When Isla returned home from university for the holidays, she’d always picked up her job at the shop, covering as many shifts as she was able to do, and now, made a point of visiting the Finches every time she came back from London.

‘Well, you know me, if I’m reading or talking about books then I’m in my happy place.’ There was something about the old building that was wholly comforting. It was a safe haven, away from all the terrible things going on in the world, that held a peacefulness and quiet reassurance within its four walls.

‘And we’re thrilled that you’ve been able to make a career out of something you love so much. We always knew you had it in you.’

Isla smiled, warmed by their faith in her, but gave a fleeting thought to what they might think if they knew how she’d messed up her latest role. She couldn’t confide in them, not when they had so many problems of their own to deal with, but their genuine pride in her was a sad reminder of everything that had gone wrong with her career. There were many reasons why the imprint had not succeeded in the way it had been expected to; it could be put down to a saturated market, an ineffective marketing strategy and a lack of investment, but ultimately, as Isla had headed up the division, she’d had to take responsibility for its failure.

‘I might go and have a mooch. Do you have a copy of I Capture the Castle, Jon?’

‘By Dodie Smith. We do indeed. I think we probably have a couple of editions, including a lovely clothbound copy. Walk this way, young lady.’

‘You see, I knew you would,’ she said with a gasp of delight when Jonathan had directed her to the relevant shelf. She wrapped her arms around him in a hug that surprised them both. It was only then that she realised quite how frail and weak he was beneath the baggy clothes. All remnants of his once strong and strapping body were gone.

Later, when she was ready to leave, having been unable to resist buying a couple of books, she felt a surge of emotion rise within her. She couldn’t expect to come home and find that things were as they ever were. Everything changed over time, slowly, imperceptibly, but the changes she noticed within Finch’s weren’t ones that she welcomed.

‘I’ll be back. Probably next week sometime. I’ll bring some iced buns.’

This was something she’d always done on a Saturday when she’d worked for them previously. When there was a quiet moment, Miriam would make some tea and they would all sit behind the counter, eating their buns from paper bags, pronouncing on their deliciousness, making sure to wash their sticky fingers thoroughly afterwards.

‘It will be just like old times,’ said Miriam with a kindly smile. ‘You know we always love to see you, but you might want to ring first to check that we’re here. Jon has a couple of hospital appointments next week so we’ll need to close up then.’

‘No, you can’t do that.’ Isla blurted it out before she’d even had a chance to consider what she was saying. Mind you, she’d always been able to speak her mind with the couple and they’d always respected her opinion. No wonder they’d seen a downturn in business if they kept having to close the shop. She didn’t blame them, obviously they had much more important matters on their minds, but at this rate, they wouldn’t have a business left to come back to.

‘I know,’ said Miriam with an air of resignation. ‘But it’s a case of having to.’

‘Well, not necessarily. Now that I’m here, I can help out. I’ve got nothing planned until Christmas so I can cover those days when you’re not around. After all, I know how everything works and I can pick up anything that’s changed as I go along.’

She noticed the tentative glance that passed between the couple, before Miriam said, ‘That’s very kind of you to offer, love, we appreciate it, but we couldn’t ask that of you. This is your holiday time. You’ve been working hard all year. You deserve a break or else you’ll burn yourself out. Besides, you need to be spending this time with your family.’

‘I’ll spend plenty of time with them over the Christmas period. To be honest with you, I’ve only been home a couple of days and I’m growing bored already. Really, you would be doing me a massive favour,’ she said, grinning.

‘If you’re absolutely sure,’ said Jonathan, nodding keenly.

Isla needed something to keep herself distracted in the coming weeks as she knew, otherwise, she would simply revert to her teenage self, crashing out on the sofa, eating cakes and watching bad Christmas romances on the telly. As much as she might enjoy that for a short while, the novelty would quickly wear thin. Besides, she couldn’t bear the thought of the shop being closed when it didn’t need to be. She cast a glance around her. A feather duster, some polish and some elbow grease would soon have this place looking brighter, and that box of unopened books on the floor had been intriguing her ever since she’d arrived. That could be her first job, she decided, hardly able to wait to discover what exactly was waiting for her on the inside.

4

‘So, when will Jake be coming home?’

Isla was sitting at the kitchen table, enjoying a full fry-up courtesy of her mum, the low winter sun filling the house with golden shadows. In London, she mainly skipped breakfast, but on those rare occasions when she was feeling organised, then she might have some Greek yoghurt and blueberries, or some overnight porridge oats, in an attempt to start the day off on a healthy note. Now, to be faced with a plate brimming with sausages, bacon, mushrooms, hash browns, fried eggs and baked beans was a proper treat, stirring all her taste buds. Her dad had delivered a basket full of toast to the table and Isla thought again how wonderful it was to be home. Oscar nudged his snout against Isla’s leg, ever hopeful that he might be in for a treat.

‘Not until the twenty-third, I don’t think, but he’ll be staying until the new year.’

Isla’s brother was five years younger and while they had a tempestuous relationship growing up, often resulting in physical spats, their bond had developed into something more mature and respectful these days, probably aided by the fact that they no longer had to live together. She was looking forward to seeing him, but also relieved that she had her parents to herself for a few weeks first.

‘I’ll take Oscar out,’ Isla offered, once they’d finished their breakfasts. ‘I need to get some exercise if I’m going to be eating like this all over Christmas. Not that I’m complaining. It’s lovely to be so well looked after.’