Page 6 of The Cotswold Christmas Bookshop

Later, back at home, she told her mum about her run-in with Guy and Lottie.

‘Oh, isn’t he absolutely charming,’ said Diana, clapping her hands together in a gesture of delight, her eyes lighting up. Funny to think that was the very same word that Guy had used to describe Diana. There was clearly a mutual appreciation society going on. ‘And very good-looking too! He’s only recently moved to the area. He lives in one of the barn conversions between here and Lower Leaping. I’m not entirely sure what he does for a living, but it’s something in property, I believe. Must admit, I was very disappointed when he mentioned he has a partner, or else I would have tried to fix you up on a date.’

Isla cringed, wondering exactly which personal snippets her mum had divulged to Guy, and what details she’d been able to glean from him. Everything from his daily routine to what he had for breakfast, probably. Poor man.

‘Mother, thank you, kindly, but I do not need you to fix me up on dates. I’m perfectly capable of managing my own social calendar if you must know.’

Diana looked doubtful, peering over the top of her glasses at Isla.

‘Well, it’s been a little while since you’ve had a boyfriend… darling, that’s all I’m saying. Years, even? Do you ever think it might be nice to have someone special in your life?’

Isla sighed, wondering why she felt especially put out by her mum’s comments today. It wasn’t as though she wasn’t used to them and usually, she could brush them aside easily.

‘I know you don’t believe me, Mum, but I’m happy as I am. I don’t need a man to complete my life. In fact, I’m not sure I’d have the time to fit one in.’

It was the truth, but for some reason, it sounded hollow and insincere even to her own ears.

5

The next morning, Isla felt a small thrill of anticipation as she arrived at Finch’s bookstore, turned the key in the lock and pushed open the door. She shivered as she brushed off the cold air that greeted her, electing to keep her coat on, rubbing her hands together as she looked all around. It would soon warm up once the heating reached the old cast-iron radiators, but she glanced longingly at the real fireplace with the old-fashioned surround in the front room. She remembered when Jonathan would light the fire on wintry days, and how cosy it made the place. Going on the cold chill currently outside, Isla made an executive decision that today should be one of those days. Selecting a couple of logs from the basket, she popped them into the bottom of the grate, adding some kindling on top, which she lit with the firelighter, then she went around the shop and turned on the many side lights. With the hanging sign on the front door still turned to closed, Isla was keen to make the most of the quiet time to get herself prepared for the day ahead. She found a notepad and pen in the drawer of the wooden cabinet to jot down her job list as ideas occurred to her. There was so much to do, she hardly knew where to start, but she was confident that she could have the shop looking better with just some small changes. She pondered a moment, before delving into her hessian tote bag, pulling out a sprig of holly with berries from her foraging yesterday, and placed it on the mantlepiece. Only a token gesture, but a definite statement of intent.

It didn’t take long for the fire to flicker into life and she gave it an encouraging prod with the poker before putting the free-standing iron fender back in place. With the promise of warmth, she shrugged off her coat and hung it on the back of the door behind the counter, keeping on her cashmere fingerless gloves as her hands were still freezing. She walked around the rooms, looking at all the nooks and crannies, moving books that had been left on the chairs and tables, and returning them to the shelves. She found a cloth and ran it around the shelves where there was a noticeable layer of dust, trying not to get distracted by the array of books in front of her. There would be plenty of time for browsing later. She also tackled the cobwebs of which there were many.

She was just pulling the hoover out from the understairs cupboard when she heard a knocking on the door. She glanced at her watch. It was twenty minutes past nine. There was still ten minutes until opening time but seeing the outline of a figure through the front door, she went to open it, in case it was another delivery of books.

‘Hello, sorry, we’re not open for another ten minutes,’ she explained to the elderly man who was wrapped up in a heavy overcoat and scarf, but who had his bare hands tucked beneath his arms for warmth. Isla really wanted to vacuum the floor before she opened the doors to any customers and trailing cables would be a health and safety risk, but her heart went out to the man whose glasses were steaming up in front of her and whose teeth were visibly chattering. She was about to ask him if he could return a bit later, when she had a change of heart.

‘Come on in, it’s absolutely freezing out there. I’m still doing the cleaning, but I can work around you, if you don’t mind.’

‘Thank you, young lady, and I don’t mind at all.’ The man tipped his hat at her, observing her closely. ‘I’ve not seen you here before. Are Jon and Miriam not in today?’

‘No, I’m looking after the shop in their absence. If there’s anything you want, then please let me know. I’d be happy to help.’

‘I’ll keep out of your way,’ he said, wandering past her into one of the back rooms. ‘Don’t worry about me. I know exactly what I’m looking for.’

Isla was able to clean the floors and put away the equipment before opening time and felt relieved to have made a start on the cleaning. There was still plenty to do, but those jobs she could fit in around serving any customers. Next, she contemplated the mess behind the counter and in the small understairs area that doubled as an office. There was an old oak desk nestled into the space that housed a computer and a printer, and a pile of paperwork that Isla recognised as delivery notes, inventories and checklists. There was a system in place, but she suspected that the main database was held in Jonathan’s head. She smiled, thinking of how you only had to mention the name of a book, or a particular genre, and he would be off, heading to the relevant part of the store to find what he had to offer. Having worked for Jonathan before, she had a reasonable understanding of how his mind worked so hopefully, she would be able to locate any books requested. She certainly had no intention of changing any of his systems, but she did want to make a start on clearing the boxes of books piled high behind the counter. Well, they wouldn’t get sold sitting there.

There was a steady stream of customers that morning. Some came in looking for something in particular and would arrive straight at the desk asking if she had the item in stock. Others came in, almost apologetically, barely glancing at Isla, hurriedly passing the counter before disappearing into the back of the shop, not wanting to be disturbed. She didn’t mind. She understood that some people didn’t want to make conversation, that they wanted to be left to browse in their own time, because she liked to do the same. Often, people would mooch around the store in search of one particular book, but would leave with something else entirely, which was one of the many joys of book selling.

‘Right, that’s all done for you.’ A young mother had come in to order a trilogy of fantasy books for her son. ‘The order has gone through and should be in by the end of the week. We’ll give you a call when they’ve arrived.’

Isla couldn’t help thinking how much business the shop would have lost if she hadn’t stepped in to help today. Judging by the number of sales and enquiries she’d taken in just a couple of hours, it was clear that Finch’s could still be a thriving business. She only hoped that Jonathan and Miriam could weather this sticky period and come out the other side.

In the mid-morning lull, she made herself a mug of tea and pulled out the stool behind the counter to start on the pile of unopened post. As she sat down, she felt something brush against her body and she startled, looking down to find a black cat winding its body against her legs.

‘Oh my goodness! Who are you and where have you come from?’

The front door had been opening and closing all morning so she had to assume the cat had snuck in when she hadn’t been looking. She could hardly blame it. It was cold and rainy outside, but the cat didn’t belong here and would potentially get in the way of customers. She bent down to see if it had a collar on, but there were no identifying marks and as she tried to pick the animal up in her arms, he scooted out of her way, running over to find a spot in front of the now-glowing fire. Across the room, the animal adopted a seated position and appraised her with a suspicious look on its face. He had white paws, a white tipped tail and piercing green eyes.

‘I’m sorry, puss, lovely as you are, I’m afraid you can’t stay here. I’m going to have to put you outside.’

Determinedly, Isla walked across to pick up the cat, but again, he deftly avoided her approach and dashed off into one of the other rooms.

‘Oh no you don’t. Come here!’ She hurried after the cat, but as she reached the second room, she quickly realised that he’d disappeared out of sight.

Of all the things Isla had been expecting to do today, cat wrangling wasn’t one of them. She wouldn’t consider herself a cat person. It wasn’t that she disliked them; it was just that she’d had much more experience with dogs. How on earth were you meant to pick up a wriggly cat that didn’t want to be caught? She trod softly, trying to remain quiet so she didn’t spook the cat, but the animal was obviously well hidden in the depths of the shop. It was only then as she was creeping through the rooms that she spotted the elderly gentleman from earlier sitting in the leather winged chair in the alcove to one side of another of the fireplaces. Each room had one. He had a leather-bound volume in his hands. She’d assumed that he must have left earlier but he’d obviously been sitting there happily for the last couple of hours. He looked up at her with a questioning expression.

‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to disturb you, but have you seen a cat wander in here? Little rascal managed to get in somehow and is avoiding my attempts to catch him.’