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‘Right,’ she briskly, turned away. ‘I’ve got work to do.’

‘I’ll leave you to it then.’ Thom lingered at the door. ‘Nice to see you.’ He paused, then added, ‘Mary Poppins.’

‘If you say so.’ A small smile followed from the young woman, warmer than the words. ‘Oh, and Thom…’ He cocked his head expectantly. She hesitated, like she might change her mind. ‘I used to think maybe a little place by the harbour. Selling the chimes I make. Shells and things.’ She gave a small shrug. ‘Nothing fancy. Just… mine.’ She let out a quiet breath. ‘Truth is though now, I just want things to be better for Alfie, you know? Silly, really.’

Thom swallowed. ‘Doesn’t sound silly to me at all.’

SIXTEEN

Jude was halfway up a ladder, restocking the top shelf, when the bell above the door of Sail Away gave its familiar tinkle. The exact one Rita always associated with the bookshop in Notting Hill. Except Jude was, regrettably, no Hugh Grant. And with her sometimes leaky breasts and softly rounded stomach, she wasn’t exactly Julia Roberts either.

Rita made a beeline for the coffee machine, then lowered herself into a Lloyd Loom chair by the window overlooking the harbour, letting out an involuntary groan as she sank into it.

He looked down at her. ‘You look knackered, Rita.’

‘Well, thank you for that.’ She didn’t even open her eyes. ‘But I’ve just survived one of Jilly’s classes on less than five hours’ sleep, so… fair.’

Jude climbed down the ladder with an easy familiarity, dusting his hands together as he crossed to the counter and put on his spectacles.

‘Enjoy that coffee and take a moment.’

She took a grateful sip, letting the warmth settle into her bones. Outside, the harbour lay grey and still, boats nudging softly. Even the seagulls seemed quieter today for some reason.

Jude went back to what he was doing until Rita spoke. ‘So, I need something for the retreat. The Christmas one.’

Jude appeared and leant back against the counter, folding his arms. ‘Classics again?’

‘Yes.’ Rita smiled. ‘Makes me look like I’ve made some kind of effort. Not poetry this time.’

He tilted his head, considering. ‘Well… there is always the Bible.’

Rita raised her eyebrows. ‘There is.’

‘Covers Christmas rather comprehensively,’ Jude added.

A laugh escaped her, low and warm. ‘Bit of a commitment for a five-day retreat though, Jude.’

‘And you’ve got Hilda there as your live-in oracle.’ Jude was clearly trying not to smirk.

Rita shifted in the chair, crossing one leg over the other. ‘Try again. Something with a bit of heart. And preferably fewer commandments.’

Jude’s mouth twitched as he moved towards the fiction shelves, scanning the spines with practised ease.

‘Alright… Wintery. Reflective, but not too bleak. It is the season of goodwill and all that.’ He reached up and pulled a slim volume free, turning back towards her. ‘It has to be Mr Dickens, surely?’

Rita took it from him, her thumb brushing lightly over the cover. ‘A Christmas Carol, obvious but yes, why not.’

‘Hard to go wrong.’ Jude nodded. ‘Short enough that even your most determined non-reader can manage it and festive without being too saccharine.’

‘It’s one of those books that you think you’ve either read or should read, too. I’d like to be gifted this myself.’ Rita sounded buoyant in her reply. ‘Yeah. Alright. That’ll do nicely.’

She held the book a second longer, then nodded, as if the decision had settled.

‘That was easy. How many do you want?’ Jude looked quickly to see how many he had in stock. ‘I’ll order more in.’

‘Five for the retreat guests.’ Rita paused. ‘Actually… make it eight. I’ll probably end up giving a few as presents.’ Her whole face lifted. ‘So how are things going with Teo?’

‘Good. Yes… really good.’