How to Find Love in a Book Shop(81)

Hugh had refused to read to her. It wasn’t his thing, reading. He was always on edge when he came to visit. He hated hospitals, he told her. Alice wasn’t sure anyone liked hospitals all that much, but she didn’t say anything. She chatted to him and he pretended to listen and spent most of the time on his BlackBerry. He was doing a few deals he wanted to get out of the way before the wedding so she understood he was under pressure.

‘You don’t have to come and see me every night if you don’t want to,’ she told him, but he insisted. He never stayed long, though.

She tucked the book into her case and zipped it up. She couldn’t wait to get back to Peasebrook. There was so much to do. Not just for the wedding, but to get things ready for Christmas. And there was the Christmas garland to make. A sixty-foot rope of flowers from the gardens at Peasebrook. Dillon had been cutting and drying them in one of the potting sheds all year. It was going to be a labour of love to assemble it, but Alice was determined. It was going to be a celebration of everything that had grown at Peasebrook over the year. She was itching to get it done.

Her door opened, and there were Ralph and Sarah, beaming with excitement. She felt a lurch of love for her parents, who had been so caring over the past few weeks.

‘Come on, then,’ said Ralph, picking up her case. ‘The car’s waiting.’



As they drove up the drive to Peasebrook, Alice could see all the staff gathered outside the front door waiting for her return – not just the ones who worked there on a Sunday, but the girls from the office as well.

‘Oh God,’ she said. ‘Everyone’s here.’

‘Of course, darling,’ said Sarah. ‘They’ve all missed you.’

She got out of the car and made her way up the steps to the front door. Everyone was clapping and cheering. She felt a mixture of delight and embarrassment – surely she didn’t deserve this attention?

In the hall, Ralph opened champagne and everyone was given a glass.

‘To a speedy recovery,’ said her father, and everyone echoed his wishes.

Alice went and stood three steps up on the staircase, so everyone could see her.

‘I just want to thank everyone for holding the fort while I’ve been away,’ she said. ‘I know all of you have gone the extra mile to keep things together. And I expect you’ve enjoyed not having me breathing down your necks!’

Everyone laughed. Alice wasn’t a neck-breather at all.

‘But now I’m back I want to make sure that this Christmas is the best one ever. So if you’ve got any ideas about how to make it even better, please come and see me. If you’ve got any problems, please come and see me. Peasebrook is what it is because we all work together. So I just want to say thank you for being the best team ever.’

She raised her glass with a smile and everyone joined in the toast.

As she sipped at the bubbles, Alice looked around the hall and thought how lucky she was. It was only then that she realised there was one person missing. Dillon. Where was Dillon? Suddenly she wanted to see him more than anyone. The front door opened and she looked eagerly to see if it was him.

It wasn’t. It was Hugh.

‘Darling.’ He pulled her into an embrace. ‘Welcome home.’

‘Thank you,’ said Alice. And it was at that moment she realised she hadn’t even noticed Hugh had been missing from the proceedings.



Emilia started awake a while later. She had no idea how long she had been asleep, or why she had a horrible feeling of unease; a sensation that there was something wrong. She tried to gather her thoughts in the muzziness of her head.

And then she remembered. She’d been running a bath. She shut her eyes, praying that she had turned off the taps before she fell asleep. Maybe she had forgotten she’d done it? She couldn’t remember doing so. She got up off the sofa and walked with dread towards the bathroom, where she was greeted with the sight of the bath overflowing, oceans of water surging over the side and onto the wooden floorboards.

She flew across the bathroom and turned off the taps, then grabbed her keys from her coat pocket and ran down the stairs, opening the door that led into the shop as quickly as she could. An unexpected burst of common sense told her not to turn the lights on, but the glow from the lamplight outside told her all she needed to know.

Water was pouring through the light fitting above the mezzanine in a merry torrent, all over the books below. And as she watched in horror, the ceiling collapsed slowly, leaving a gaping, jagged hole.

She couldn’t do it. She couldn’t deal with this on top of everything else. She almost felt grateful it had happened, for at least she didn’t have to try any more. She could give in, and no one would think any the worse of her.

She went behind the counter and fished out the card Ian Mendip had given her and looked for his address. She picked up her car keys and went out to the car, not looking back. If she stopped to think, or spoke to anyone else, things would become muddled. At this moment in time, she had absolute clarity.

She drove to Mendip’s house, two miles outside the town down narrow lanes. She swished in through an impressive set of gates and up the drive to his swanky new-build, lights automatically illuminating her way.

She banged on the door. Ian Mendip answered, frowning, not recognising her in her bedraggled, distraught state.

‘Emilia Nightingale,’ she told him. ‘Can we talk?’