Page 60 of The Bookshop By the Loch

She didn’t reply.

Instead, she leant over as far as she could in her chair towards a wooden bedside cupboard and pulled the handle of the deep, middle drawer.

Her hand tugged it open and she eased out a wodge of yellowing paper. It was typed upon and gathered together by a lacy ribbon.

“This is the book,” she said. “I’m not silly. I know it isn’t going to set the literary world on fire, but to have someone like you, a successful editor, read it through… well, I’d appreciate it.”

“Successful editor,” I muttered, almost under my breath. “I don’t know if I’d go that far.”

Celeste cocked her head of white waves. “But Maeve told me you worked at Literati Publishing.”

I took the opportunity to give her a potted explanation about what had happened and how I wasn’t appointed to the senior editor position.

Looking back on it now, it was as if the elation of seeing the end product – a polished manuscript, the excitement of my authors being published for the first time – had happened to someone else.

But it struck me as I sat there with Celeste, that the festering injustice about how Literati treated me wasn’t anywhere near as painful as it had been. Time did heal. “Anyway, this isn’t about me. I’m more than happy to read your manuscript and give you feedback on it. What’s it about?”

My attention focused on the covering page, which said:

Love Never Dies

By Celeste Matthews

Celeste wriggled in her wheelchair. “A romance,” she stated vaguely. “It’s set here in Bracken Way.”

“Ah yes. Maeve said you were born and grew up here.”

Celeste’s look was indecipherable. “Yes. Then I moved away for a while.”

“That sounds just my cup of tea then.”

I gestured towards her closed door and lowered my voice. “I hope you don’t mind me asking, but why didn’t you want to give me your book in front of Maeve?”

Celeste’s fingers raked over the dress. She stared down at it with her milk chocolate eyes. After a few more moments, she raised her head. There was a faraway look to her. “Like I just said to my daughter, it’s still nice to have one or two secrets of one’s own.”

Chapter Eighteen

Tobias insisted that he’d drop me back at Mum’s house, so I gathered Celeste’s manuscript under my arm and pulled my bag to me as I sat in the passenger seat of his Land Rover. “You were wonderful with Celeste today.”

Tobias swiped off his smoky sunglasses and leant both his arms on top of his steering wheel. I noticed a faint smattering of dark hair. “I wish you wouldn’t sound so stunned that I could be kind to someone. Anyone would think I was a cross between Godzilla and Michael Myers!” He pulled a grotesque face which made me laugh.

“You know what I mean,” I said.

We exchanged smiles and I realised after a few moments that my attention was drifting to his mouth again.

I gripped tighter to Celeste’s manuscript and clambered out.

Tobias pointed at the book in my arms. “I see you’ve some light reading for tonight.”

“It’s a romance. I suspect it may carry some autobiographical aspects. Celeste was very mysterious about its contents.” I gave the front cover a gentle pat.

Tobias continued to watch me from out of the passenger side window. “It wasn’t just me who was lovely with her today.” His deep, rumbly voice wrapped itself around me.

“Oh?”

“No.” Tobias gestured again to the book in my arms as I stood there on the pavement.

My shoulders gave an easy shrug. “Oh, you know. I’m a wonderful person. What can I say?”