Page 40 of The Bookshop Ladies

‘No, you really don’t. In my experience, they are the most damaged of us all. You and I? We get through things, maybe sometimes it feels as if the going is slow, but we put one foot in front of the other, we do the right thing. We either confront it or we forgive, but we learn to live with things, not run away from them or hide behind something that’s shiny enough to cover over the pain momentarily.’

‘Or under it?’ Fern laughed.

‘Yes, maybe under it would be nearer the point,’ Joy agreed.

‘Did you forgive him? In the end? I mean, if he was still here and you knew, would you be able to live with it?’

‘If you had asked me that same question a month ago I would have said: never.’ Joy took a deep breath of the sea air, filling her lungs with its bracing saltiness. ‘But now,justnow,’ seeing Fern so completely vulnerable had changed everything for Joy. ‘I feel as if I understand something more than I did before…’ she looked across at Fern, taking in her features. It was impossible to believe that this woman had slept with her husband. Maybe it was just once when Joy was in the States, but that once had resulted in a daughter, shattering Joy’s heart.

‘I slept with someone once,’ Fern whispered. ‘He was married, older, French – of course,’ she rolled her eyes at her own naivety. ‘It wasn’t love, it wasn’t even unbridled passion, but it was something deeper and still not deep enough for me to want to…’ she stopped, perhaps fearing she had said too much. As far as Joy was aware, Robyn did not know the identity of her biological father – she believed he was untraceable, a handsome stranger her mother had encountered. It complicated everything so much more. Joy shivered. Oh, what a minefield. She wouldn’t want to hurt Robyn, not for all the world, but she realised now, at this moment; she would not want to hurt Fern either. Why was that, when Fern had carelessly slept with Yves and not given Joy’s marriage a second thought?

‘Are you okay? You look as if someone just walked over your grave.’ Fern laughed softly, but it was exactly how Joy felt.

‘Me? I’m just fine; thinking of the silly things we end up doing when we are young and regret when we are old.’

‘That’s the thing though, Joy, even with all that has happened with Luc, I don’t regret that fling I had years ago, so much good came out of it, in fact it was the best thing I ever did, because even though it might have ruined my work – it absolutely changed the course of my life in a way I wouldn’t swap for all the success in the whole world.’

‘What do you mean it ruined your work? You’re one of the most successful painters in the world, a great talent.’ It was the truth.

‘I think a lot of that is just publicists’ hype. Iwasbetter, before that. I mean, I wasn’t as successful, it happened just as I was starting out, but I think,’ she shook her head, ‘I think it turned me into a supernova – if that’s the right term. I think that germ of creativity that helped me burst through somehow collapsed in on itself after that one tryst. It was one night basically. After that, I just kept producing the same safe thing over and over. If I hadn’t had to live with that measure of guilt, about him and his wife mostly and…’ She looked out at the far distance, took a deep breath as if it might hold her together, perhaps fearing she might unravel further in the cool night air. A single tear rolled down her cheek and she brushed it away. ‘The guilt of it repressed me in some way, but in other ways it set me free. It gave me… something far more precious,’ she sighed. ‘Well, it gave me the greatest gift, one that was far better than art or marriage or maybe even every star in the sky.’

‘A supernova.’ Joy felt the words fall from her lips and she knew she was crying too, tears streaming down her cheeks at the waste of it all.

27

The mechanics of setting up the art circle were actually easy. It was as if the fretting overtook Robyn’s inclination to procrastinate. She simply had to screw up her courage and ring around the few people she knew in the village. The whole afternoon was organised while she was letting her herbal tea cool after she closed the shop one evening. When it was all settled, she felt a glow of achievement. For a short while, even Kian and Imogene took a back seat in her mind. She’d texted him a few times, been rewarded with some GIFs and stomach-churning references to how wonderful Imogene was at everything from making a romantic dinner for the pair of them, to helping him find the perfect birthday card for his mother. Urgh, truly, the idea of them together, walking hand in hand, made her want to retch. Instead, with Joy at her elbow, she managed to send a smiley face emoji, close her phone and concentrate on packaging up two books for an order on AbeBooks.

‘Kian? Again?’ Joy said when she came into the shop one morning and saw her crying over her phone. ‘We’ve got to cut this out now and instead of moping each time you get a text telling you how wonderful she is, it will be a reminder to do something more here in the bookshop. Agreed?’

‘God, that sounds like the most sensible thing I’ve ever heard. I mean, obviously I hate it, but you’re one hundred percent right.’

‘There it is! The best advice isn’t always the most palatable.’ Joy smiled and placed Robyn’s phone on a shelf out of easy reach.

‘So, our art circle…’

‘Yes, today we will confirm.’ Joy was folding the scarf she had draped around her shoulders.

‘Already done. And, I took a bit of a gamble, I mentioned it to Shane and he put the word out, I’ve had two phone calls already – people who hadn’t even heard of it before but would very much like to join. One of them is an artist who lived on the east coast for years, but he’s relocated to Ballycove to be near his daughter.’

‘Well done, you have been busy. Will Fern mind that there are extra?’

‘Did we actually mention how many there were going to be to begin with?’ Of course they did, but the lure of the great Fern Turner was proving too much.

‘I think we did, but perhaps she won’t mind?’ Joy said. ‘You know if this takes off…’

‘Yes, it would be wonderful, if only for the summer months, it would really liven up the street outside our front door. They will make the place look as if it’s worth checking out.’

‘Exactly, that’s what we’re really aiming for…’ Joy smiled and she walked towards the front of the shop to peer out of the window. ‘I suppose, we could easily squeeze up to a dozen easels there, if more people turn up…’ she was talking to herself now.

‘Oh, Joy, I doubt there’s twelve artists in the whole county, never mind the village, but hurray for your positive thinking.’

‘You might be surprised.’ Joy tilted her head slightly and when she spoke again there was a wonderful lilt to her voice. ‘After all, look at the reading chairs…’

‘I have to admit, they’re a real eye-opener.’ Robyn had had to drag down more each day and now, they were as likely to be taken up by people reading books as they were by old men hiding behind their newspapers while their wives gossiped in the supermarket. It was heartening to see. Most of the people outside had become regular browsers in the shop and some had even bought a few books. Trade had increased by several hundred percent.

‘And it will get busier. The evening reception will really put this place on the map. Have you spoken to the local newspapers yet?’

‘Local newspapers?’ The nearest newspaper was in the county town – thirty miles away. It was very much a regional broadsheet with red-top aspirations, but of course, the most salacious things they managed to report were the court briefings and obituaries after unexpected deaths.

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