Page 56 of The Bookshop at the Cornish Cove

‘I want to make more jams and chutneys,’ I continued, scanning my list. ‘Maybe I could sell them in the shop.’

‘Your chutney is divine too. You’d sell that by the bucketload.’

‘You think so?’

‘I know so. I know I don’t normally have any but that’s because Sabrina used to throw it away when I got it home and it seemed really unfair.’

‘Why did she do that?’

‘Never trusts anyone to cook for her. She’s a germ freak and says she never knows where anyone’s hands have been.’

‘Bitchbag!’

He laughed.

‘That’s the perfect word for her.’

I looked back at my list. ‘Something else that might seem a bit mad, but I’d love to make things out of recycled materials from the beach.’

‘Such as?’

‘Maybe things like table mats and coasters. I don’t know, but I’d love to figure something out. Items made literally from our own beach and then sell them in our village.’

‘I could make you some more display shelves to sit on the countertop. You’re going to run out of shelf space soon and you are supposed to be a bookshop, you know.’ He laughed.

‘Yeah, I know, but Dennis did teach me that you have to diversify and if people who come in to buy books purchase other things too, then that’s fabulous. There may also be people that come for the recycled stuff, who then go on to buy books too.’

‘Then more shelves I shall build, milady!’ He took a bow and I threw the pen I’d been holding at him, which he luckily dodged before it caught his nose.

‘You’re an ace brother, you know.’

‘Yeah, I know.’ He winked.

We were still stuffed from our humungous lunch but did manage to squeeze in some cheese and biscuits, accompanied by some gorgeous grapes and home-made chutney, which I’d batch-made recently and brought some along with me.

‘We’ve got a lot to give, you know, me and you,’ I said.

‘You think?’

‘I know so. I’m proud to have you as my brother. I wouldn’t want anyone else.’

‘Good, because you’re stuck with me now. Anyway, do you fancy a quick game of Scrabble before we head off to bed? I’m sure it’s my turn to thrash you.’

‘Ha, I’d like to see you try. I’ve got a degree, you know.’

‘Yeah, in art not English and even though you have one, you work in a shop.’

Brother banter could sometimes be a little cruel and he liked to insult me. We both laughed and then I smacked him over the head with a pillow.

After he won only one game out of the five we played, I think I’d made my point.

‘Right then. I’m off to bed. I’ll see you in the morning. And I’m glad you are not Mopey Nancy any more.’

‘Yeah, me too!’

33

The time had come. The letter stared at me from the dressing room table. I couldn’t put off reading Vi’s letter for any longer.

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