Page 49 of The Bookshop Ladies

She tapped on Albie’s door as soon as she heard him come upstairs after breakfast in the bakery.

‘Ah, it’s yourself, I’m still thinking of that lovely dinner you made me last night.’

‘It was nothing, really, my pleasure.’ She meant it. Even if Albie never wanted to see her again after today, she would treasure the time they had spent together; for the briefest of time, he made her feel as if she was part of a family. She would always be grateful for that. He had given her the gift of belonging. ‘I’ve come…’ she cleared her throat, but she didn’t want to have this conversation on the threshold so she followed him inside. ‘I’m going back to Paris,’ she said flatly.

‘Ah now, not just like that, I hope.’

‘I’m afraid so, there’s something I didn’t tell you before and now Robyn and Fern know; it’s time for me to leave. It’s for the best.’ And so it spilled out. The truth of who she was, Yves Bachand’s widow. She was Robyn’s stepmother; it sounded so strange when she actually said it. Yet, sitting here, it was easier to say than she had expected all those times she’d practised it in her head.

‘But that’s wonderful news,’ Albie said and he was smiling.

‘I’m sorry, but how is it wonderful news?’ she asked. ‘Fern hates me and Robyn has been kind, but she has to be still in shock. God knows how she’s going to feel about me when she actually comes to her senses and…’ her voice quivered as the emotion finally took over. ‘And it’s coming at the worst possible time. I hoped we would have the reception and the bookshop would be firmly established before I had to leave. Then there’s Fern and her marriage disintegrating, it’s just too much to land on anyone’s doorstep even at the best of times…’ she stopped.

‘Oh, don’t be worrying about Fern and Luc – if that’s what you’re feeling badly about.’ Albie shook his head sadly. ‘Luc has always been a ladies’ man, he might not have done anything as obvious as this before, but who knows what he gets up to when he’s jetting about the place. The difference this time is that Fern can’t pretend she doesn’t know. She’s finally facing up to it.’

‘You sound as if you’re relieved.’ Joy thought she couldn’t be any more surprised by Albie. He was much more clued up than she had given him credit for. She quietly agreed, it was always better to know if you were sleeping with a lion than to believe you were lying with a lamb.

‘Maybe I am. It’s not cruelty on my part, mind, but I’ve always believed that Robyn should know the truth of who she is, it’s the least any of us deserve, don’t you think?’

‘I suppose so.’ Of course, he was right about that. ‘So, you already knew that Yves was her biological father?’

‘Of course I knew.’ He smiled sadly. ‘There were no secrets between me and my Peggy. Even if I never breathed a word, it didn’t mean I hadn’t felt the weight of it. How is Robyn after hearing the news?’

‘Considering the enormity of what she’s had to absorb, she’s actually better than any of us, probably.’

‘That’s my girl.’ Albie couldn’t hide the pride in his voice. ‘She didn’t really click with Luc. He was never going to win any prizes for father of the year, for all his doing the right thing and taking care of Fern, really, he and Robyn never connected, not properly, not like a father and daughter should.’

‘Still…’

‘Look, the way I see it, you can run off to Paris if you like, no one can stop you, but do you have any real family there?’ He paused for a moment, looked at her with those light blue eyes and she felt as if he was seeing the answer clearly without her having to say a word.

‘I have my apartment, my friends…’ The truth was, she had no family anywhere, not in France or in the States, and most of her friends had been Yves’s friends and well, she would be the odd wife out. Her other friends had all been connected with work. She hadn’t seen them for over a year. ‘And of course, I have Paris,’ she delivered this with a knowing smile. Paris had been her home for almost three decades. Everyone knew you could spend all day every day going from gallery to bookshop and never run out of things to occupy you there.

‘As you say, you have Paris. But now you have Ballycove too and, whether Fern likes it or not, you have family here. That gives you roots to a place like no other thing can.’

‘But I…’Family– it was what she’d wanted for so long, really, deep down.

‘Fern will get over it, if you want to stick around. I’m not sure Robyn will do so well if you leave just yet…’ Albie smiled at her and, for what felt like the millionth time, she realised he might be the wisest man she had ever met. ‘So, do you need help to unpack those bags or shall I leave you to it, because I could make it to the top of the stairs if I had to…’ He was making fun of her now.

‘No, I think I can manage.’ Joy laughed in spite of herself.

‘At least, make your mind up to stay until after the reception, talk to Robyn, spend some time with her, give yourselves a chance to make a plan to keep in touch. You never know – you could have a whole new life about to open up for you here…’ Albie smiled at her and she had a feeling he knew far more than he should about what was good for her.

‘Okay, you could be right about the reception,’ she conceded. ‘I’ll stay until after it.’ And it was decided as easily as that.

‘Now, don’t you have a job to be getting along to? I’m sure Dolly is wondering what happened to you – she’s very tuned in to routine, you know.’ He laughed, because of course Dolly would be looking forward to their very slow amble to the bookshop and a day of mooching between the books and then later, in the afternoon, sleeping contentedly in the politics section under the stairs.

‘You’re right, of course, I should be getting along,’ Joy said because Robyn had made it quite clear that she would love to see her at the bookshop if she wanted to turn up today and for as many more days as she felt like it after that. ‘Albie…’ she started but she didn’t have the words to express how grateful she was to him for his kindness, so instead she bent over him and threw her arms around his neck. He allowed her to hug him for a minute before he began to protest about being strangled. ‘Thank you,’ she said as she made her way to the door, ‘thank you.’

It felt strange – as if she had walked through an invisible door – being back in the bookshop in the days after Robyn learned the truth about Yves. Everything had slightly altered between them. There was that all too tangible feeling of newness, as if they were engaging in some untried dance that neither of them quite had the steps to. It was little things, like getting the morning coffees, suddenly without Fern being there to join in their conversation they were thrust onto unfamiliar territory. The ground beneath them had shifted and now it was a landscape where the significance of small things like offering to stay late or take out the rubbish for the bin collection took on a new, almost gargantuan significance. Joy decided to keep her attention on the details for the reception.

‘Two days to go,’ she said as she arrived at the bookshop on a wet and unexpectedly windy Monday morning. She’d found an umbrella in the flat, but it still hadn’t done very much to stop her hair from being completely blown about.

‘No worries, I think everything is under control,’ Robyn said lightly. She had made a space on the wall facing the front door for the Seine painting. Leo promised to hang it for her. ‘The Seinewill be the icing on the cake, it’s only right that Yves is with us in some small way.’

‘I’m sure he would have been very proud.’ And Joy felt a little tug at her heart, because she would have loved a daughter like Robyn.

Sometimes, Joy thought there was no end to the boxes of books the previous owner had stashed away in hidden corners of the bookshop. In clearing more shelf space in what was once the little kitchenette at the back of the shop, Robyn had come across another four boxes.

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