Page 7 of The Cotswold Christmas Bookshop

‘Heathcliff,’ said the man matter-of-factly, ignoring her question.

‘Ah… okay…’ It took Isla a moment to register what the man was saying to her. ‘Yes, I can certainly find you a copy of Wuthering Heights, if that’s what you mean?’

‘No,’ he said, in a tone that suggested he might be dealing with a fool. ‘The cat. His name is Heathcliff. He’s a regular around here. A bit like me.’ This time, there was the faintest hint of amusement in his eyes.

‘Oh, I see. I didn’t realise. Heathcliff!’ Now it was her turn to give a small smile of understanding. Then, as if the cat had been listening in on their conversation and had heard his name mentioned, he sauntered through the room, his tail held high, casting a look of disdain in Isla’s direction.

‘Well, it seems as though I’ve been introduced to the cat, but I don’t know your name, I’m afraid. I’m Isla, by the way.’

‘Henry,’ he said with a nod.

‘I’m very pleased to meet you, Henry, and you too, Heathcliff,’ said Isla, realising that there had obviously been more changes at Finch’s than she had first thought. ‘Right, well, I’ll get back to my jobs,’ she said, looking bemused, leaving the two aitches to their own devices. ‘Remember, if there’s anything you need from me then you only have to ask.’

6

Isla came to know Henry and Heathcliff a little better over the following week. Despite having told her parents that working at Finch’s would be a one-off, after that first day back in her happy place and a follow-up chat with Jonathan and Miriam, Isla volunteered to do as many shifts as they needed her for.

‘Please don’t feel obliged to come in and help. We would never want to take advantage of your good nature, Isla.’

‘Not at all. I’m more than happy to be here.’

After the Finches had made certain that Isla was sincere in her suggestion, they wasted no time in taking her up on her offer, knowing that the business would be in safe hands while they attended to personal business away from the shop.

As far as Isla was concerned, it was the perfect way to spend the empty weeks in the run-up to Christmas. In any quiet moments, she could do some online Christmas shopping or else she could pop out during her lunch break to pick up any presents from the gorgeous array of independent stores along the high street. Not, as she quickly discovered, that there were many quiet moments as there was a constant flow of customers through the front door, which suited Isla just fine. It was the perfect distraction from thinking about her actual work situation and her life in London, as well as a way of avoiding any tricky questions from her parents if she was seen to be moping around the house.

It still gave her time to walk Oscar occasionally and to spend time with Diana and Hugh in the evenings, when they would come together over dinner, have a glass of wine together and sometimes a game of Scrabble too. She was making the most of being back at the family home while she could.

Isla was sharing an early-morning mug of tea with Miriam, who had popped into the shop so that they could go through some paperwork together.

‘How is Venetia keeping?’ Isla asked. ‘I haven’t seen her yet. Or heard her at all.’ She raised her eyes to the ceiling. ‘Although I have met Henry and Heathcliff.’

‘Oh, you wouldn’t have heard, would you? Venetia moved out in the summer,’ Miriam explained.

‘Really?’ It came as a big surprise to Isla. ‘How come?’

Venetia Middleton had lived in the upstairs flat above the bookshop since before Isla had first started working there as a teenager. In her mid-fifties, she was a part-time midwife who had never married or had a partner, as far as anyone knew, but who led a busy life and belonged to many local groups including the church choir and the amateur dramatics group. She had occasionally helped out working in the shop and Isla had always enjoyed those times because Venetia had been such a genuine and engaging person with a wealth of entertaining stories.

‘Well, it all happened so quickly. She met someone on a singles holiday. A lady from Wales. They decided they wanted to be together and Venetia has moved to be with her. Obviously, we were very sad to see her go, but she sounds incredibly happy. We do miss her though and simply having someone upstairs keeping an eye on the place. Things don’t stay the same forever, do they?’

‘No, I suppose not.’ Isla sounded thoughtful. ‘I’m delighted for Venetia, though.’ She would miss seeing Venetia about the place, she was such a vibrant and colourful character, but Isla couldn’t help wondering if she’d taken her joie de vivre with her, leaving a grey cloud hanging over the bookshop. She could only imagine what a wrench it must have been for Jonathan and Miriam. They were good friends with Venetia, who had always been on hand to assist if there were ever any emergencies at the shop, and Isla suspected they could have done with her help over recent months. Perhaps Venetia’s departure was another factor in Jonathan and Miriam’s reflections on the shop’s future.

‘So, who’s living in the flat now then?’

‘It’s standing empty.’ Miriam must have noticed Isla’s horrified expression. ‘I know! We need to do something about that, but it’s obviously not been a priority. Something else we need to look at in the new year,’ said Miriam, a note of sadness in her voice.

‘Oh, I see…’ Isla stopped herself. There was so much more she could say, but she didn’t want to make Miriam feel any worse than she already clearly did. It was only natural that things might slide at the bookshop when Jonathan had been so poorly, but they were losing out on a steady income stream without a tenant in the flat.

‘Right, well, I need to get home. It’s wonderful you’re here, Isla, because it means Jon and I can get on with some much-neglected jobs. Suddenly, there seems so much to do. Thank you again, darling. I’ll have my phone on me, so any problems, just call me.’

Isla would avoid doing that if she possibly could. She wanted to help the Finches out during this difficult period. She certainly didn’t want to become another problem for them. Besides, she always had Heathcliff to talk to if she needed a sounding board, although she didn’t entirely trust the cat yet. He had taken to curling up in front of the fire or else he would sit in the window like a bookend, and occasionally, she would find him tucked into the smallest space imaginable on one of the bookshelves. She was never quite sure where he was at any one time. It was slightly unnerving to come across him somewhere when she was least expecting it. Sometimes, she would be engrossed in a task when suddenly, she would become aware of someone watching her. Quickly, she’d turn around to find a pair of piercing green eyes challenging her.

‘Stop that, Heathcliff,’ she would tell him, feeling a shiver run down her spine. ‘We’re trying to attract customers, not scare them away. Be a good cat.’

‘Can I stroke your cat, please?’ asked a child one afternoon. Isla had needed to peer over the top of the counter to see a small girl, aged about four, with mousey-brown hair, a central parting, freckles and an earnest expression on her face.

‘I’m not sure Heathcliff enjoys being petted,’ Isla said, feeling a momentary sense of alarm. She wasn’t sure how the cat felt towards children and she didn’t want Heathcliff lashing out with those sharp claws. That would be a disaster for the business and her thoughts drifted to where the first aid box might be kept. Thankfully, at that moment, an attractive young woman appeared, grabbing the little girl by the hand.

‘There you are, Amelia. What are you doing? Come on, I thought you wanted to choose a book.’