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He forgot about the cat as he opened the van door. The cat jumped over his lap and out of the door. ‘No, Dickens!’
The cat stopped and turned around. ‘There’s a good cat,’ said Callum, slowly getting out of the van. ‘Now, just stay there while I—’ Callum bent down to pick him up, but Dickens avoided his clutches and walked off. ‘Come back here!’
Callum sighed, turned around and shut the van door. When he turned back, Dickens was gone. Callum heaved a heavy sigh. Surprisingly, he realised he’d miss the little black and white cat if Dickens got lost.
Callum walked across the car park and entered the almost deserted high street. The shops were now closed. He waited for one solitary car to pass him by before he crossed the road. And there, sitting on the opposite side of the road, was Dickens.
‘Hey!’ Callum grinned. The cat hadn’t got far – but then, he was an old cat. This was probably the most exercise he’d had for quite some time.
As Callum crossed the road, he said, ‘Now, just wait there, will you?’ He felt a little foolish talking to the cat, even though there was nobody around. ‘Good boy, Dickens. Stay!’He’s not a dog, Callum thought.He is not going to do as he’s told.
The moment Callum reached the pavement on the other side of the road, Dickens was off again, strolling down the street. He even glanced behind him as if to say,Go on, catch me if you can.
Callum frowned. He didn’t feel inclined to chase after the cat. He had a feeling that if he walked more quickly or broke out into a run, Dickens would just quicken his pace and disappear.
Callum ambled along, taking his time, looking for Cobblers Yard with one eye on the cat. Every now and then, Dickens paused and looked around. He did it a few times, giving Callum the impressions that the cat wanted him to follow.
Callum kept his sights on the cat. There was as street rising behind the town, with a café on one corner – The Two Magpies Bakery – and a fish and chip shop on the other. He paused to look up the steep street lined with red-brick terraced cottages. There was no sign of a place called Cobblers Yard.
Callum looked at the cat, who was now sitting on pavement by the fish and chip shop. ‘I’m coming,’ said Callum. As he strode across the road, and continued along the high street, Dickens continued walking.
‘Anyone would think you know where you’re going,’ said Callum, taking his eyes off the cat for a moment to glance in a shop window as he passed by. ‘That’s handy.’ Callum had discovered there was a pet shop in Aldeburgh. When he looked ahead, the cat was gone. ‘Oh, you have got to be kidding.’ He’d lost sight of Dickens. ‘So, you didn’t really want me to follow after all,’ Callum said under his breath, feeling foolish for even thinking that might be the case.
He walked on, seeing a Co-op up ahead which looked as though it was still open. Someone walked out carrying a plastic bag full of groceries. ‘That might come in handy,’ he said to himself. Although he’d had a good dinner with Jack and Beth, and he’d bought food for Dickens and beer for himself, he hadn’t thought to pick up breakfast cereal and milk for the morning. This wasn’t LA. He might not find a place that served breakfast first thing in the morning, unless he made do with a pastry or scone in a café.
Callum was aiming for the Co-op when a loud meow stopped him in his tracks. He looked about him, but he couldn’t see any sign of Dickens – until he heard a meow again, and turned around. That was when he saw the sign for Cobblers Yard pointing down a narrow alleyway. He walked forward two paces. Dickens was sitting in the alleyway, just visible in the dark alley, his two yellow eyes staring at Callum.
‘Hey, there you are.’ Callum followed the cat down the alley, which opened out into a cobbled yard. He looked about him at the old-fashioned store fronts, his eyes settling on The Bookshop of Memories. Dickens was sitting outside the door.
Callum stared at the cat. He meowed at the door as Callum approached. Callum shook his head in wonder. After all these years, it appeared that the cat had known exactly where he was when they’d arrived in Aldeburgh, and where he was heading – right here to Cobblers Yard, and The Bookshop of Memories.
Callum looked about the yard. All the shops were closed. That didn’t bother him. In fact, he preferred it. Cobblers Yard was small and intimate, and he could just imagine the other shop owners being very interested to see who had turned up with the key to a bookshop that appeared to have lain forlorn and forgotten for years.
Although Callum was interested to discover what they knew about his father, he was quite happy to turn up incognito and have a look around without nosy neighbours.
Callum got out the key, hoping that the key fitted the lock and that it hadn’t rusted over the years.
Dickens meowed loudly.
‘Alright, already! A bit of patience, please.’ The key worked. The door creaked open. Dickens squeezed through the gap and ran inside as Callum opened the door. He stepped inside too. His shoulders sagged. ‘Oh, dear. It’s worse than I thought.’ The bookshop wasn’t like any he’d been in before. It was lined, floor to ceiling, with dusty bookshelves. He ran his finger along one. It was thick with dust. He sneezed loudly. He’d noticed the books displayed in the window. He imagined they had been bestsellers years earlier.
He weaved in between the bookshelves and saw the counter at the back of the shop. Dickens was sitting there, licking his paw, already looking quite at home.Not for the first time, Callum thought,If you could talk, what stories you could tell. He stared at the cat and sighed. ‘I wish you could tell me about this bookshop and the two girls in the photo.’
Callum walked through the shop to a room in the back, where he found bookbinding equipment. There was a dusty sofa, a sink, and an old kettle that had seen better days. That was when he spotted another door, behind which was a flight of stairs. He gingerly walked up the stairs, glanced in the small flat and sneezed again.Although it was furnished, the place was full of dust and cobwebs.Unless he cleaned it from top to bottom, he’d have to make do with sleeping in the campervan for the time being.
Callum decided that the priority had to be sorting out the shop downstairs first, if he was going to sell the place any time soon. Unfortunately, the shop was not exactly in the best position for passing customers. Cobblers Yard had charm, but people had to find the place first. That might pose a problem.
Callum sighed. As with most things in life, it was not quite turning out how he had hoped. But he had to get on with it. ‘I’ll just roll up my sleeves and get stuck in tomorrow – what do you think, Dickens?’
He turned around to find that the cat was no longer sitting on counter. ‘Dickens?’
A mew came from the back of the shop. Callum poked his head around the door and found Dickens curled up on the sofa. ‘Well, I’m afraid I can’t stay here tonight.’ Although the sofa Dickens had bagged did look rather comfy. ‘Right, well I’ll be back in the morning, so don’t go anywhere.’ He suspected Dickens wouldn’t.
He turned around and walked back into the shop. Standing behind the counter with the old-fashioned till, Callum placed his hands on the dusty counter top and looked at the shelves bulging with books. ‘Why did you abandon this place?’ He got the photo of the two girls out of the wallet. ‘Why did you abandon them?’ The younger girl had Henry’s eyes.
He shook his head, still finding it hard to comprehend, let alone believe, that his father had two families. Jack had said that it was something Henry just would not have been capable of. Callum agreed, and yet here was this photo. He couldn’t help but think it must be true. ‘I think I’ve got a sister – or two,’ he said to the empty bookshop. The question was, should he try and find them?
Chapter 38
