Page 61 of The Bookshop Ladies

‘It sounds like you’ve made some big decisions there?’ Albie had the kindest eyes Joy had ever seen.

‘Maybe I have, but I’m just saying to Joy that having her here, well it’s helped in more ways than I can begin to count.’

‘I think she’s rescued us all, in different ways,’ Albie said softly.

41

It was, Robyn thought, a night of nights. The night of her life, if she was honest. Since they’d decided on it, she’d dreaded and looked forward to it in equal measure. Six months ago, she wouldn’t have believed it possible that her little bookshop would be hosting a partyin real lifeand she would not only be meeting just about everyone in the village but managing to enjoy it too. So many people had turned out in support of the bookshop, she felt like pinching herself to prove it was all really happening.

At one point, she took a moment to look up from serving customers and her breath caught in her chest. This is what she had always dreamed it could be like. Gatherings of the great, the good and the ordinary in Ballycove, all here to celebrate a love of books, a sense of community and, of course, an appreciation of having a bookshop in the village once more.

‘We’re running out of carrier bags,’ Kian broke into her thoughts.

‘We can’t be, there were tonnes of them there earlier.’ Robyn had roped him in to help out as soon as he arrived. Somewhere, probably being fabulous, Imogene was out there working the room. She had arrived on Kian’s arm, dressed like a bride, in a white cotton dress, rocking a deep tan and a simple gold chain on her slender ankle. Of course, she looked immaculate. She always would, but for all that, tonight was the first time Robyn felt as if things had somehow been levelled up.

It wasn’t because she was proud of the work they’d done in the shop, to create this wonderful night, nor indeed was it because she no longer cared what Imogene did or thought of her, in itself a major revelation. It wasn’t even because, for the first time, she’d glimpsed something vulnerable about the girl who for so long seemed to have it all. Rather, as Robyn touched the diamond and pearl mezuzah Joy had given her, she felt as if she had somehow risen above her feelings of inadequacy next toperfectImogene. The ground between them had evened up and the pedestal had been shifted from beneath the other girl. It was probably crazy, but each time she allowed her fingertips to touch the precious brooch, she felt fortified. Her paternal grandmother’s family was protecting her in some otherworldly way, she was certain of it.

‘She’s doing my bloody head in,’ Kian spat, when Robyn asked if things were going well between them. ‘Nothing is ever enough; she’s got a face on her tonight because she wants to go to Dubai for the summer. I ask you, where am I going to get the money to flit across there?’ he grumbled.

‘Lovers’ quarrel.’ She regretted it as soon as she said it. Just then she caught sight of Imogene, looking as if she’d give anything to disappear into the bookshelves. At that moment, something tipped over in Robyn. It was time to forgive and forget or at least, leave their history where it belonged, in the past. ‘Well, I suppose, there’s always making-up sex to look forward to…’ she said, trying to undo any hurt she might have caused.

‘I seriously doubt it, all she wants is an engagement ring and how am I supposed to buy that on a university salary?’ Kian said, rummaging for more bags under the counter. ‘Are there no bags left at all?’

‘Try down in the cellar,’ Robyn said, taken aback by the idea of Kian getting engaged.

‘Robyn, we’re going to have to get someone else to stand in there.’ Joy stood at her elbow. ‘The whole idea of tonight is to connect with customers, to forge some sort of relationship with people so they come back again. I need you out here. You should be asking people what they like reading, where they usually buy their books and figuring out how to turn this into their favourite shop.’ She looked around. It was frantically busy, they needed to keep the sales rolling through.

‘I’ll do it. If you… haven’t anyone else to stand in…’ A slightly high-pitched voice came up beside her. It was Imogene.

‘Sure, but have you used a card reader before?’

‘Duh! Of course I can work a card machine, it’s hardly rocket science. I’ll be fine, so long as all the books have prices on them.’

‘Yes, everything has a ticket on the back and Kian’s popped down to the cellar to get more carrier bags.’ They’d spent the last few weeks repricing all of the stock. It had been quite a revelation to Robyn. Dear old Douglas Howard would have fallen off his perch if he’d known about the voracious online demand building up for some of his collections. Poor Douglas priced everything under a euro and, more often than not, knocked a few cents off for every sale.

‘Fine so, we’ll manage…’ Imogene stalked behind the cash desk making a bit of a show of finding somewhere to leave her glass of prosecco. At the same time she looked mightily relieved to have something to keep her busy.

‘Golly she’s a treat, isn’t she?’ Joy rolled her eyes and steered Robyn over to a group of older women who had each bought several books from the Booker Prize shelves. The shelves were Joy’s idea when she’d realised how many copies they had from past shortlists. ‘These ladies are the Glamorous Gingernut Cream Book Club…’ Joy did the introductions. Of course, Robyn knew most of the women. Now, she found herself standing between Iris Delahaye, who had only recently opened a guest house just outside the village, and Elizabeth O’Shea who had been so generous with wall charts and other items from her late husband’s surgery when they had been decorating the health and wellness section of the shop.

‘So, it would be absolutely marvellous if we could meet here.’ Joy had clearly already opened up a conversation with them and Robyn made a mental note of thanks.

‘The only problem is, it’s always after seven, so we didn’t like to ask… I mean, I’ve noticed that most evenings you’re closed up once it’s getting towards five o’clock.’ Elizabeth looked a little apologetic. ‘Of course, I’m only finishing up in the surgery at that hour and, well, most of us are racing off to get our supper.’

‘I’d love to have you meet here… of course you’d be welcome.’ There were six of them gathered here tonight, exactly the sort of women who would get through lots of books each year. ‘It’s just what I was hoping for and I can keep the shop open for you or, if you prefer, we can just close the doors and leave you to it…’

‘Well we wouldn’t want to be any trouble now,’ Mrs Lattimer said. ‘I mean, we bring our own home bakes and…’

‘But the community centreisa bit grim at the moment, we’ve had to make do with meeting in the little kitchen at the back of the stage. In winter, the condensation streams like the Niagara Falls on the external walls.’ Georgie Delahaye had joined the group. ‘I hoped we could meet in the distillery, but the smell of yeast isn’t to everyone’s taste.’ Her eyes darted meaningfully towards a pinched-looking woman standing next to her.

‘Well, no such worries here, I can organise comfy chairs for you all…’

‘Just to be warned, there can be up on twelve of us on a busy night.’ Callie Corrigan was one of the most dynamic women in the village.

‘Twelve? How wonderful, the more the merrier,’ Joy clapped her hands delightedly.

‘And we meet on Mondays, so that’s straight after the novena…’ another woman squeaked.

‘Mondays are perfect, consider the place yours, just let me know when you want to start,’ Robyn said.

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