Page 51 of The Bookshop Ladies

‘Of course he had.’ Robyn had spent many hours as a small girl curled up next to him while he read Roald Dahl poems, doing funny voices for each of the characters. ‘Oh, Joy, you really do know how to make some special sort of magic.’

‘Oh, stop it! It was nothing, if anyone is delivering miracles around here, it’s Albie.’ They clinked cups on this because Robyn couldn’t agree more.

‘Kian promised he’ll come to the reception,’ Robyn blurted out. He had texted her already this morning some vague details of when they would arrive and to ask if he could stay in his usual room or was it likely to be filled with returning Keelings and Turners for the big launch.

‘Oh? And is he bringing the delightful Imogene?’

‘They seem to be surgically attached these days.’

‘Good, I can’t wait to meet them both,’ Joy said.

‘I haven’t told him about you, is that terrible?’ What she meant of course was, she hadn’t told him that she and Joy had a connection.

‘I’m hardly in any position to lecture you on who you should tell, or what you should tell them.’ Joy smiled kindly. ‘And anyway, why would you tell him anything you don’t want to?’

‘Hmm, but it’s the sort of thing I would have been on the phone to him for hours about, before…’Before Imogene arrived on the scene.

‘You have to trust your own judgement on that.’

‘You’re right. Maybe, that’s what I’m learning.’ That thought made Robyn feel really good, because before this, she couldn’t have decided anything for herself without running it past Kian.

‘That’s no small lesson, so many women spend a lifetime trying and failing to do just that.’

‘Hmm, it’s not lost on me that I’ve told Shane and not just because he’s down the road and Albie might tell him anyway.’

‘We both know Albie wouldn’t breathe a word if you told him not to, but again, maybe it’s just good judgement.’

‘Yes, Shane’s a good egg, isn’t he?’ They’d become even closer since she’d told him about Joy. Now as well as him popping into the shop each evening, they’d gone for drinks last week and met up for a few early morning runs too.

‘He’s a great friend. You’re lucky.’

‘Thanks to you,’ Robyn said.

‘I don’t deserve any credit, I really don’t.’ Joy held up her hands.

A sudden downpour of rain outside drowned out their voices for a moment. Robyn moved towards the window – mercifully, the rain was sheeting down and across the road away from the shop front. This time, the easy chairs had been spared. They were still dry thanks to the canopy and the favourable direction of the wind today. Robyn hadn’t seen anything like it in years, it sent a shiver through her, although it was not cold.

‘We might have to make do with instant coffee today, what do you think?’ Joy called to Robyn. It was too wet for take-out coffee; even Dolly had refused to leave with Joy this morning.

‘I’m happy to make it if you fancy drinking it!’ Robyn looked around the shop. The place was in great shape, they’d worked really hard these last few weeks.

‘Let’s go over everything again, just in case.’ So they did; Robyn had organised music for the night, a local duo with a guitar and some easy listening songs had been delighted to be asked. Shane was taking care of the food and the manager in the local hotel was supplying wine and his best glasses. There were two local writers who had actually contacted the shop over the last six months with offers to do a reading or a signing, but Robyn had never taken them up on it. ‘Lesson for next time –alwaystake up any offers from people who might want to do something in the shop,’ Joy had said, but Robyn knew and she’d promised herself she’d never make the same mistake again. ‘And you know I hate to be a wet blanket, but if the winter weather is like this…’

‘What do you meanifit’s like this? This is positively Mediterranean compared to what it’s like in January in Ballycove.’ Robyn laughed.

‘So, no reading chairs? No artists’ circle on the footpath outside your door?’ Joy was serious. Robyn would have to think of some other attractions. ‘Well, have you any thoughts?’

‘God, I feel as if I’m in school…’ Robyn shook her head. ‘Let’s see, I’d be happy to let the artists’ circle meet here in the shop – I could clear out a space in front of the window. It would be a squeeze, but certainly, we could fit in quite a few easels, if people weren’t keen on freezing to death outside.’ Joy agreed, better to have them meet here than in a local pub where the links might be easily lost again. ‘What about some poetry workshops, that would get people in and if we wanted, we could extend the invite to the secondary schools in the neighbouring towns, wouldn’t it?’

‘Yes, of course, but it needs to be organised…’ Joy said lightly.

‘Point taken. I can start when the reception is over…’

‘You could start now?’

‘Oh, you are a very difficult woman to work for sometimes!’ Robyn smiled but she took down the diary and started to flick through the weeks ahead. It had begun to fill up, between the artists’ circle and the children’s story hour – it felt as if her little bookshop was turning into what she had always dreamed it could be.

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