Page 55 of The Bookshop Ladies

‘Albie’s always right, what is it this time?’ Fern said, cocking her eye over her shoulder and away from the drawing she was sketching of the sunset in the distance.

‘He thinks Joy is probably the only person that could one day mean as much to you as Margot did.’

‘Well that’s just nonsense, I could never replace Margot and certainly not with someone who pretended to be…’ She stopped. ‘He gave me that claptrap too. He’s for the birds on that one, let me tell you.’

‘Yeah, well, I’ve asked her to stay on indefinitely, so you might need to, what was it you told me to do – oh, yes, get over yourself. I’m hoping she’ll be here for a very long time indeed.’

‘Whatever Joy Bachand decides to do has absolutely nothing to do with me,’ Fern said airily.

But Robyn knew that wasn’t really the case. Apart from the art circle, her mother hadn’t come near the shop since Joy had given Robyn the painting. The worst thing was, Albie WAS right. Joy and Fern had been on the brink of becoming very good friends. It was obvious to Robyn that they clicked in a way that didn’t happen often enough to take it for granted.

‘Ding-dong.’ Her mother laughed and called Robyn over. ‘Who is he?’ she pointed with her pencil down towards the street opposite where a tall man, maybe in his late twenties, stood for a moment while his huge dog sniffed the lamppost.

‘No idea,’ Robyn said. Her mother was right, he was a great big ding-dong! The dog was familiar though, she’d seen that dog with someone else in the village recently.Probably the dreamboat’s girlfriend!

‘Well, isn’t it good to see that there is some appreciable talent in the village after all, it’s not just pensioners wanting to paint and little old ladies wanting to swim?’

‘Sure, but let’s face it, he might be quite good looking, but he obviously doesn’t read – does he?’ And her mother knew that even if it was Elvis himself resurrected from the dead, Robyn had no interest in any man who didn’t adore books as much as she did.

‘Well, for someone who isn’t a reader, he’s fairly eyeing up the bookshop,’ Fern said softly.

‘I’m getting a cup of tea and turning in, do you want anything?’

‘No thanks, there’s still more sun to capture before I can think of giving up.’ Her mother smiled. They were different animals completely, her mother was an owl, Robyn had always been a lark.

That night, even with a mug of camomile tea and the most boring book she could find in the shop that day, sleep evaded Robyn as if it was a fox, scurrying out of sight every time she closed her eyes. At three in the morning, she gave up pretending to be tired and slipped into her dressing gown and out into the crisp night air.

Ballycove was still, apart from the sound of an occasional clink of chains on the quay that carried further than it should on the salty air. Robyn knew, she was the only person standing in the moonlight in the village at this hour. She could feel the emptiness of the place stir in her bones.

The moon overhead caught ripples like shards of glass jutting occasionally from the velvety black water rolling out at the bottom of the town and Robyn breathed in the sea air deeply.

A few months ago, she would have woken for a very different reason. It seemed strange now to think of it, but until Joy arrived the biggest worry on her mind had been making the bookshop work. Honestly, she had convinced herself the place would be closed down before she had been in business for a year.

Today was the sort of day she wouldn’t have been brave enough to dream about a few months ago. There had been walk-through traffic, browsers and a few sales sent her way from other businesses in the town as well thanks to the reading chairs outside. There were also online orders to the value of three hundred euro – an anomaly perhaps, she didn’t expect to see that every day, but worth being grateful for when it happened.

And she had Joy, quietly working away in the background, pulling all sorts of strings that she never mentioned until Robyn noticed another unexpected bonus.

What on earth would she do without Joy when she returned to Paris? And she would return to Paris, Robyn was convinced of that much. She thought very often of ways she might prevent it. She daydreamed of Joy falling madly in love with Leo, but Leo was a confirmed bachelor, or at least she’d always thought so until Joy arrived in the village. Sometimes, she wondered if her mother could only move past the hurt and jealousy she felt for Joy, then maybe friendship might help her decide to stay.

Neither scenario seemed very likely to happen, especially if her conversation with her mother earlier was anything to go by. She crossed the road to stand back and look at the shop, there was no one to see her in her slippers at this hour. Even in the darkness, she felt a surge of pride pulse through her at the sight of it.

This had been her dream, to open a bookshop, to live in Ballycove and feel as if she belonged here. She thought about Kian. He would never live in Ballycove, she’d always known that. Kian belonged in a university town. Funny, she’d never really thought about it before, but somehow she’d always known it.

She was still in love with him.

Wasn’t she?’

Perhaps it was the cold night air or the lack of sleep, but a crazy feeling swept over her. She really wasn’t so sure that she did love him any more, not inthatway at least. The truth was, some small part of their relationship had been contaminated by Imogene. When he rang these days it was only to moan about things he’d once laughed about. He was always broke, always struggling under the weight of student debt, she was used to that. But she’d loved the part of him that was constantly planning on his next adventure. He’d travelled halfway round the world during his summer holidays in college. Mind you, that hadn’t helped his debt much probably. These last few weeks it felt as if she was only hearing about the grievances.

She shivered, a sly wind cut along the path behind her, chasing frissons of cold along her spine.

So, she wasn’t as madly in love with Kian as she had been – well what about that? She smiled to herself, it was liberating; something to be thankful for at least. The cold night air made her teeth chatter. She needed to get back to bed. As she walked back upstairs, thinking of how lovely the bookshop looked in the moonlight, a small ray of hope cut into her heart. Maybe, throwing herself so wholeheartedly into making the bookshop a success was helping her to get over Kian? If that was the case, it would be a miracle on the grandest of scales.

37

Joy had read about a bookshop somewhere in the States where the owner had replaced sections of the floor with heavy-duty glass panes.

‘Why on earth?’ Robyn looked stricken as she glanced nervously down at the beautiful quarry tiles that ran over the main part of the shop.

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