Page 50 of The Cotswold Christmas Bookshop

‘Oh my goodness, look at that!’ She actually gasped in awe. In all her twenty-seven years, she’d never seen a downfall like it, not in real life at least.

‘It’s about two inches deep already and there’s no sign of it letting up any time soon.’

Isla couldn’t drag her gaze away. The snow looked beautiful and festive, lying thick and heavy on the ground and on the rooftops, altering the light outside and in the shop, creating a magical atmosphere. She held a hand up to the window as if trying to catch some of the falling flakes. She’d been daydreaming all morning. That was probably why she hadn’t noticed the sudden change in the weather. Her mind had been playing over her conversation with Jonathan and Miriam. It had gone so much better than she had expected. They hadn’t even wanted to take some time to think about it. They’d agreed to her mad suggestion on the spot, almost as if they’d been half-expecting it. She checked the time on the clock over the mantlepiece. It was over three hours since they’d left; she only hoped that they’d had a good journey and had arrived safely at Jonathan’s sister’s before the snow had moved in.

‘A lot of the shops have closed up already. I don’t blame them. I suppose people are worried about getting home.’

Isla wondered if she shouldn’t do the same. It would certainly explain why they hadn’t had many customers through the doors this morning.

‘Anyway, how can I help you?’ she asked the man.

‘I’m meant to be meeting up with some friends at the pub in about…’ he paused to glance at his watch ‘…ten minutes and I’ve just realised that we’re doing a Secret Santa.’ He exhaled a sigh. ‘Honestly, who comes up with these things? Anyway, I completely forgot so I wondered if you would have anything in stock that might work. It needs to be up to a maximum of ten pounds.’

‘Right, and is it for someone specifically?’ Isla’s brain was whirring.

‘No, apparently, we all take a wrapped present along and receive a present in return, so it doesn’t need to be personal, just something nice,’ he said with a nonchalant shrug.

‘You could be in luck. I might have just the thing. Look down here—’ she pointed to the front of the counter where there were a couple of small shelves ‘—and you’ll see a wide range of books, already wrapped, with a brief description on the cover. You might have seen it before; it’s called Blind Date with a Book. It’s been around for a few years now, but it’s still very popular. The written notes will give a clue to what is inside. Like this one.’ She picked up a random one by way of example. ‘It’s a spicy romance. Set in Canada starring a professional sports player, and it’s hot, hot, hot apparently!’

Perhaps it hadn’t been the best example to show the man, but he took it in good part and laughed, his interest clearly piqued.

‘They’re all under ten pounds,’ Isla added.

‘Ah, something like this will be perfect!’ He picked up another of the books wrapped in brown paper and tied with string, giving it a rustic, home-made appeal. He read the description aloud. ‘“Psychological thriller. Set in the city of London. Rival law firms. Page-turning. Filled with twists.” Yes, why not,’ he said. ‘Sounds like something I would read. I’ll take it. Thanks so much, you’re a lifesaver!’

She smiled as she popped it into a bag. It wasn’t the first time she’d been called a lifesaver in her role at the shop, and while she wasn’t doing anything nearly as important as that, she liked to think she might provide some small service or even a little magic when she found exactly the right book for a customer.

The man turned to look out the window as Isla handed him the book.

‘It’s coming down heavier than ever. I hope we don’t get snowed in at the pub, although I suppose there would be worse places to spend Christmas. Thanks so much for all your help. You’ve been brilliant. Happy Christmas!’

‘Merry Christmas!’ Isla called after him, going across to the window to watch as he carefully navigated the cobbled pathway which was now covered in thick snow. She peered out to see that a couple of the neighbouring shops had already closed and she realised that she probably needed to head back to Upper Leaping sooner rather than later. It meant that she wouldn’t get to the planned meet-up later in the pub, but she would be glad to get home and let the Christmas celebrations begin, even if it meant she would miss seeing Guy. Her disappointment was real, especially as she was eager to tell him the news that she would be staying in Bramlingham and managing the bookshop on a permanent basis. What would he think? Hopefully, he would be pleased, although she couldn’t help wondering if he might feel annoyed about losing out on his commission on the potential sale of the business.

Isla whizzed around, making sure that the fire was extinguished, gathering all the rubbish into a black bag and tidying up the counter before doing one final sweep of the building. The shop wouldn’t be open again for another week so she wanted to leave everything in place so that it would be ready for reopening. She felt a wonderful sense of excitement and anticipation at the prospect of returning after the Christmas break. She had so many ideas and plans that she was keen to implement.

As she wandered into the second room, she almost jumped out of her skin seeing someone slouched in the armchair. She was convinced she’d been alone in the shop and seeing Henry in a way that she’d never seen him before sent a sharp stab of fear coursing through her body.

‘Henry!’ she cried, rushing over to his side. He was sprawled in the chair, his head lolling to one side, his eyes closed and his mouth open. ‘Henry, what’s wrong?’ she asked him urgently. ‘Henry!’ She shook his arm, dropping her head to his chest to check that he was breathing.

He groaned, opened one eye, groaned again before slowly coming round, which was an enormous relief to Isla.

‘Oh, thank goodness, I thought you were…’ She stopped herself, electing not to finish that sentence.

‘Dear, oh dear.’ He yawned. ‘I’m very sorry. I must have nodded off.’ He shifted himself up in his seat, although Isla’s poor heart was still beating at nineteen to the dozen. ‘I was round at my neighbour’s last night for a whist game and I probably had one too many sherries.’ He gave a small chuckle. ‘I do like your jumper, Isla. Very festive. Is it throwing-out time?’ he asked, sounding confused.

‘It’s snowing heavily outside, Henry, so I’m closing up early. Come on, I’ll take you home.’

‘There’s no need to do that. I’m perfectly capable of managing on my own. How do you think I get here every day?’

‘I know you’re perfectly capable, but the pavements will be treacherous outside and I would never forgive myself if you were to slip in the icy conditions. I’m walking you home whether you like it or not. Besides, it will be fun to go out in the snow together.’

With no more protestations from Henry, Isla turned the sign on the door to closed and locked up the shop, giving the door a reassuring tap on the way out. She would be back after all.

They hung onto each other for moral support, taking it steadily and carefully as they made slow progress along the high street. There were a few shops that remained open, but most of them had had the same idea as Isla and closed up early.

The people they did come across, making their way home or on their way to the pub, were in good spirits, the snow having created a magical winter wonderland effect along the streets of Bramlingham.

‘Merry Christmas!’ they called to everyone who passed.