Page 35

During another baking lesson, Ursula told me briefly how she has lived all across the world, from Germany and Poland, to China and Switzerland. She said each move was for her husband’s work, either Rudi or Len or another man she named only once. But during each move she was deliberate about carving out her own place. She started salons, as she called them, book groups or discussion clubs to bring people together and discuss ideas.

“That’s what you were doing, offering knowledge and exclusivity?”

A corner of her mouth tips up. “Power too. Ideas have power. Remember what I said about safety and parity? Ideas are part of that. All over the world, we need to share, discuss, keep things even by giving, not by withholding.”

My mind dashes to my conversation with Peggy and her worry about such a large antenna atop the Beurtons’ shed. “The only reason someone needs an antenna like that is if they want to send and receive messages from far away. From very far away.” Is that sharing ideas?

Another thought strikes me. Ursula says that’s what she did in all her moves—she created connections, sources of power and knowledge, if one wants to call them that. And yet here, according to all I’ve seen and heard, she’s done precisely the opposite. In fact, she just confirmed as much with regards to shopping in Kidlington.

My attention toggles between the antenna outside the window and Ursula, and I ask the only question I can. “But you didn’t here, did you? Other than the bake sale, you don’t involve—”

She cuts me off with a flick of her hand. “My life has changed. What I want from life has changed. For now, I’m content being a quiet mother. We’re talking about you.” She takes a few steps to her kitchen table. On it rests a new book I brought her this morning, The Crime at Black Dudley by Margery Allingham.

She lifts it and waves it between us. “Books, Gemma. You know more about novels, mysteries in particular, than anyone I’ve ever met, and you just opened the village’s first and only bookshop. A proper club is the natural next step. It will give the ladies in town a reason to come together and get to know you, the one with the access to and the knowledge of all of these books.”

She rests the book back on the table. The gauntlet has been thrown and she softens. “You’ll be surprised how fast and far your influence can spread.”

Something in her tone catches my attention. It’s like a crack in the door. Where I am is dark, but through that crack I see light. It’s tantalizing, and I want to ask for more, but I don’t know what I’d ask, what it is I’m after.

Ursula cuts my thoughts short. “What a mess we made today.”

Her tone is cheery, and meant to redirect us, but I can’t let go yet. All I can grasp is the book club idea. Whatever she was offering, or simply teasing in front of me moments ago, is gone. Either I didn’t pick up on it, or I failed a test and she withdrew it.

“Would you join a book club? If I started one?”

Ursula’s focus shifts from me to the middle distance of memory. “Not yet. My tiny private world, as you called it, is enough right now.” She offers a small half smile. “Or perhaps I’ve simply grown old and lazy.”

I offer my own half smile, more smirk than smile, in reply. It’s a sleight of hand—again. There is nothing lazy about Ursula.

“How does this book club idea work?”

“Ask Peggy for a standing time you can reserve the parish hall, then pin an advert on the bulletin board, both at church and at the store. Maybe even ask Peggy to mention it at the other parish meetings she facilitates, and you mention it to the store’s patrons. At the first meeting you bring cake, serve tea, and offer a selection of books for people to choose from. Then, once the group has selected the first or maybe the first several books, the store can order them in and your group members can purchase them to read before your discussions. Always serve tea and cake, of course.” As she recites this litany of instructions, she slices the cake and puts several pieces into a tin for me.

“You’ve thought this through.”

“There’s a certain formula to it, yes.” Ursula stops. “You remind me of myself in so many ways, Gemma. You have energy and determination, you’re learning details and focus, and I’d like you to see for yourself how far you can go. I don’t think you’ve truly given yourself a fair chance yet.” She reaches over and squeezes my hand. “My mother never gave me that kind of belief in myself either.”

I lift a shoulder, which is better than shedding a tear. “Yet somehow you got it.”

“Hard won, I assure you.” She snickers, small and derisive. “I seized it. And now I am trying to give you what I fought tooth and nail to learn.”

My mind drifts once again to Peggy, to Charlie, to Mr. Hastings, to the ladies who now come to the store especially to ask my tips on the best products for the best price, to my cozy little bedsit, and the small, good life I’ve formed here. Originally, I came because of the bedsit and what it represented. I’ll admit that. That one line in the advert drew me from all I knew because it was the only way I felt I could get what I wanted: the safety and security of my own space. Now I’m beginning to see there can be more. I can be more.

I nod to Ursula without fully realizing what I’m agreeing to. I simply know she’s right about stretching myself and taking a risk. If I want a life here, a home that’s more than a single room and a hot plate, then I need to find the courage to seek it.

“How do you do that?” My voice cracks.

“Do what?”

“Figure out something like that? Something I need?”

“Oh, child, I’ve had lots of practice with this kind of thing. For me it came together in Shanghai. I hated the teas, parties, and lazy extravagance. I needed to exercise my ‘little grey cells,’ as your Poirot calls them. So I came up with my own plans, and once I found my way, I was active and useful, I was alive, and I found good friends and a cause to give my life to. Books can help you do the same. In Great Rollright.”

I pick up The Crime at Black Dudley. Might it be my new book club’s first selection?

Ursula continues. “And once it’s up and running and you feel confident, we’ll talk about next steps. One’s influence shouldn’t remain too close to home, Gemma. There’s a whole world out there that needs help.”

Chapter 14