Page 63 of The Bookshop Ladies

‘Anyhow, the fact is wearehere. We’re here to celebrate a wonderful new business in our town and not just any business, but a bookshop, a place we can come to when we are in need of cheering up or calming down. The message here tonight is loud and clear: even if you aren’t a big reader, you are always welcome to drop by…’ he stopped. ‘The ladies are doing wonderful things, all inside these four walls, from children’s story hour on a Saturday to just providing a comfy seat outside the front door if you fancy sitting down with your book and a cup of coffee…’

‘Wonderful idea, the best thing that ever happened to Patrick Street.’ It was one of the older men who Robyn recognised as one of their regular morning visitors. He’d bought quite a few bird-watching books since they’d put the chairs outside and now had several more on order.

‘And it doesn’t stop there, does it?’ he looked from Robyn to Joy for a moment. ‘Because you can pop in at any time and buy a book, or order something in specially and a little birdie told me that if you ask nicely, they might be able to get you a signed copy of your favourite writer…’

‘Especially if it’s one of mine,’ the poet piped up and everyone laughed.

‘Absolutely.’ Robyn tried to edge away from the podium, but Albie grabbed her hand and pulled her back.

‘The thing that makes this bookshop so special is not just the chairs outside or the canopy that keeps the sun and hopefully, in wintertime, the rain off us, it’s not even the signed copies or the friendly welcome, it’s actually… It’s actually because it’s a family business…’ He put up a hand as if he was stopping an oncoming train, but the room was silent, waiting to hear what one of their most beloved elders had to say next. ‘It’s a family business in the truest sense. This building has belonged to the Turner family for over sixty years. It’s where Fern should have grown up, if it hadn’t been for the tragic passing of her parents much too soon. Douglas Howard, you’ll all remember him well, took the place over and filled it with books he usually never wanted to sell.’ This managed to get a laugh from people in the audience. ‘He wasn’t a great man to have any order in the place and it seemed his stock only grew and never shrank. Times are changing and now I’m told you can have as many customers in Tokyo, Toronto or Tobago as you have on your doorstep, isn’t that right Robyn? Which is a pity, because shops should be local. We want to keep as much of our village alive as we can and that means popping in to buy or order your books here. I’m reliably told that Joy is already planning to get a whole section of brand-new bestsellers in before the season is out.’ He stopped for a moment, sipped from the glass of wine someone had given him and grimaced. He’d never been a man to appreciate anything that came from a glass with a stem. ‘This shop itself is all down to Robyn of course, but tonight and the proper opening of it and connecting of it all to the village of Ballycove is down to Joy and, let me tell you, she mightn’t be a local, but Joy Blackwood is one of us. She’s a Keeling and a Turner and we are very lucky to have her in our family, even if she managed to get here the long way round.’ Albie put his arms around Robyn and Joy’s shoulders and when Robyn looked across at Joy, she realised that she was crying.

‘Stop it, I’m absolutely not crying,’ Joy said, patting delicately at her eyes, but of course, she was.

‘Well, now that I’ve managed to upset everyone,’ Albie laughed because Robyn and Fern were both wiping away tears too. ‘I think we should raise a glass to thesethreeamazing women – and to this wonderful bookshop right here in Ballycove and, most of all, a toast to family, however it comes about, because sometimes, family is more about belonging together than anything else.’

42

The sound of Robyn screaming from the sitting room below woke Fern with a jolt. Without a second’s hesitation, she raced barefoot downstairs, tripping over the final three steps.

‘Oh, my God, Robyn, what is it?’ she breathed, because whatever it was, she hadn’t expected her daughter to be standing white-faced in her running gear. ‘I thought you were being attacked.’ She inched closer, looked around the room, just in case there was an assailant hiding in the early morning shadows.

‘It’s gone.’

‘What’s gone?’

‘The book, it’s gone.’ Robyn dived frantically around the room again, as if to satisfy herself that she hadn’t made a mistake.

‘Oh, dear, Robyn, there are a million books downstairs, for goodness’ sake.’ Fern was about to turn and go back upstairs, sleep calling her too loudly to ignore. She was not a morning person. Then it dawned on her. ‘Oh my God.It’sgone?’

‘Yes, Mum, wake up,Aliceis gone.’ She stopped for a moment, pulled her hands through her hair then dropped onto the sofa. ‘Sorry, I must have put it somewhere, I just panicked.’ She smiled half-heartedly, but really, they’d all agreed, the best place for the book was in the big old bookcase in the sitting room, behind lock and key and nesting between two other cloth-covered books that would pass for siblings to it.

‘It can’t have gone too far, for goodness’ sake, it’s a special book, but it hasn’t grown legs.’ There were so many books strewn about the sitting room, Fern had always found them a comfort, but now she cursed them. It was like looking for an acorn in a forest. This was one very special acorn – an acorn worth millions. ‘It has to be here somewhere.’ She was moving books aside, checking under cushions. They’d taken it out last night, shown it to some of the people who had come back for a nightcap.

‘Stop! Don’t mind me, I’m probably still a little hungover after last night,’ Robyn said. ‘Go back to bed, I’ll find it, like you said, it’s here somewhere in the mess.’ The place was even more untidy than usual. No one had been in the mood to clear away after the party from downstairs had finished for family and closest friends up here in the flat.

‘Are you sure?’ Fern yawned. She’d never been a morning person, but with a late, late night thrown in, she was hardly fit to see straight, never mind search the flat for a book when it was probably stuffed down a cushion on the sofa anyway.

Fern fell back into her comfortable bed and all thoughts of the book were forgotten as she slept deeply for another two hours.

By the time she did push the sleep from her eyes, the sun was shining outside and there was the sound of furniture being moved about downstairs. Maybe, she’d vaguely heard the vacuum going earlier, she did hope so!

‘What on earth?’ The sitting room was like Armageddon. ‘I thought you were putting the place back together, but Robyn, look at it!’ She craned her neck to check out along the hall. The first-floor rooms were pulled apart, as if they’d been torn into by an army of mice chasing a herd of elephants through the place.

‘Oh, I’m sorry, I just…’ Robyn looked terrible, her eyes were red and streaming, her hair standing on end, she looked even thinner and paler than usual. ‘I can’t findAliceanywhere. Tell me you lent it to someone? Or it’s up in your room and you forgot to mention it?’ Desperation filled not just her eyes but every word she spoke.

‘Robyn, no, I definitely didn’t, why on earth would I give it to anyone?’ Fern looked around the sitting room, noticing that there wasn’t so much as a chair to sit on. Every piece of furniture that wasn’t screwed to a wall or the floor had been turned over. ‘Let’s have a cup of coffee and then put this place back together again, yes? We’ll probably find it at the very bottom of the mess.’ She was trying to be light-hearted, but truly, it had to be here somewhere.

‘I think I should call Joy,’ Robyn said. ‘She might have brought it back to her flat, what do you think?’

‘It’s possible,’ Fern said, but she had a feeling it had to be here and Robyn had missed it in her blind panic. ‘Come on, let’s get the flat put back together first, it’s going to be here somewhere.’

‘Fine,’ Robyn murmured, but she didn’t sound convinced.

Joy arrived just as they were putting the kitchen back to rights. The sitting room had taken ages and Fern was exhausted at the thoughts of having to start searching the shop, if the book didn’t turn up somewhere in the flat.

‘Missing?’ Joy’s eyes were wide. ‘No, of course I didn’t bring it back to the flat, to be honest, I was glad to hand it over to you, the thoughts that something might happen to…’ she stopped suddenly, realising that Robyn was becoming more upset.

‘I mean, I know, it’s stupid, I was still thinking of donating the book to the National Library, if it was valuable, but to think it might be…’ She didn’t say stolen, but since they had turned out every nook and cranny in the flat, it was what Fern was thinking.

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