Page 64 of The Bookshop Ladies

‘No, no. It’s got to be here. I remember Albie showing it to people last night. He was sitting here.’ She walked to the tired velvet-covered chair nearest the fireplace.

‘I know and, after that, it was passed around, but the thing is, everyone here is… well, like family, really,’ Robyn said.

‘So, it can’t have been taken, it has to be here.’

‘Would someone have borrowed it, just to…’ Joy said softly, but as the minutes marched on, maybe they all knew no one was going to snuggle down with a million-dollar book when there was a selection of a thousand other books to choose from. ‘Okay, let’s not panic. I say we search the bookshop next. Maybe you could ask Albie if he remembers, he might have slipped it somewhere out of sight just to keep it safe, before he left.’

It took Robyn and Fern almost the whole day to check through every single shelf in the bookshop. Not that Fern expected it to turn up there – why would it? No one had left the flat through that entrance the night before and they all remembered it clearly being in the sitting room.

At five thirty, she carried bowls of soup and some toasted sandwiches down to the bookshop to Joy and Robyn.

‘I think we have to face it, it’s not here.’ She was only saying what they all knew in their hearts.

‘It’s getting late too,’ Joy said and she picked up a spoon, tasting the soup. ‘I think you’re going to have to call the guards, Robyn.’

‘Oh, God,’ Robyn sighed. It was the last thing any of them wanted after such a lovely night.

‘It’s just, you know what it’s like, you’ll probably end up going through to the county headquarters if you don’t give them a buzz before the local man goes off shift for the day,’ Fern said gently. It still felt like a bad dream, but they had to face up to the fact, a very valuable book had gone missing and they’d searched everywhere they could think of, bar looking behind the wallpaper.

‘You’re right, of course you’re right, I’ll ring them now,’ Robyn sighed.

43

Robyn waited patiently while the dial tone rang through a series of redirections. Too soon, however, she was put through to a guard who sounded young and eager.

‘I’ll put you through to upstairs,’ he said and Robyn waited some more.

‘Ballycove, yes, I know the bookshop,’ the officer, a detective, confirmed when she told him who she was and where she was ringing from. The story ofAlicecame tumbling out of her quickly after that and, even to her own ears, it sounded a little ridiculous that she’d waited so long to report its possible theft.

‘Look, you’ve done the right thing, ringing us, I’m about to finish up my shift here, but I’ll drop in to the bookshop on my way home, if that’s okay?’ he said and, when the call ended, Robyn somehow felt a little better than she had before.

The gardai, or at least Hilda Newsome’s grandson, arrived on the doorstep less than an hour later. As upset as Robyn might be, she still caught the shared glance between her mother and Joy when the detective turned out to be the good-looking guy they’d spotted a few nights earlier walking with his dog opposite the shop. Joy immediately guessed he was Hilda Newsome’s grandson. They had all heard about Will Newsome. His grandmother had been hellbent on fixing him up with Robyn from the first day at the artists’ circle. If Robyn had expected him to be like his grandmother, hatchet-faced but spry, there was absolutely no resemblance. She had to admit, he was bloody gorgeous after all. Now, she wondered how on earth he’d managed to get away without being fixed up with someone’s granddaughter.

‘Look, I’m going to be honest,’ he said. They were drinking tea in the bookshop. The place was a mess – in spite of the fact that they had checked every shelf, there was still a sea of empty glasses and paper plates left over from the evening before. Robyn had planned a big clean-up operation for this morning, but it was a case of best laid plans. ‘From what you say the whole village and his wife were in here last night and if you were allowing them access to the bathroom upstairs, anyone could have slipped in at any time.’

‘No, that’s the thing, we don’t think so,’ Fern said. She was sitting next to Joy, both of them as obviously bereft as each other for Robyn. ‘We all remember it being in the sitting room afterwards.’

‘Fern’s right,’ Joy said and it was a relief to hear the straight-talking American. She was the one person who might be able to make some sense of this. ‘The thing is, fewer than a handful of people actually realised the value of the book, we only found it a few days ago, so only family, really…’ she stopped. The only thing worse than some stranger breaking in and stealing away with the book was the idea that it might have been taken by someone they knew.

‘So can I have a list of who knew exactly?’ Will Newsome took out his notebook and pencil again. Robyn couldn’t help noticing that he had a thin white scar that ran through one of his eyebrows. It was quite distracting but, she had to admit, attractive at the same time.

‘I’m sorry, but by the time the party was over, I think Uncle Albie had told half the village.’ Robyn shook her head sadly. ‘He was just so excited about it…’

‘Could someone have broken in, you know, it’s a big house, from one end to the other and…’ he didn’t say that they’d had a bit to drink, ‘I mean, I’ve seen cases where burglars have stolen from bedside tables while the victims were sound asleep just inches away.’

‘You can take a look at the door, but there’s no sign anyone forced a lock or a window anywhere…’ Robyn stood and led the guard out to take a look. She had already checked, but she’d been searching for that book since seven o’clock in the morning. Since then, she’d turned the whole place over twice or three times at this stage.

‘Ah,’ the detective smiled sadly, ‘so we’re back to square one.’ He folded away his notebook again. ‘Tell you what, let me have those photos you took of the book and I’ll get it up on our database as quickly as we can, we’ll see what happens,’ he said, but Robyn had a feeling there wasn’t much hope. ‘There’s always hope,’ he said as Robyn sent on the photographs she’d taken of the book a few days earlier. ‘Well done, by the way.’ He nodded towards her phone. ‘If only more property owners were as diligent.’

‘No, not diligent at all, I’m afraid. I only took them because it was so old-fashioned. I was going to use them to promote the shop.’ She smiled, but it was at best half a smile. Still, no point crying over spilled milk.

By the time Detective Newsome had left, there was nothing else for it but to turn off the lights and close up shop on a day when they hadn’t really opened anyway.

The following morning, Robyn rose even earlier than usual to get the place back in order. It didn’t take as long as she expected. Even Fern managed to arrive down before midday to help with the tidying. She and Joy set about gathering glasses and washing them before they took them back to the hotel. Then Robyn moved furniture and books back to their original positions.

The clean-up was punctuated by lots of people dropping in to tell them how much they’d enjoyed the wonderful night.

‘Well, it looks as if you really are firmly at the centre of the village now,’ Joy smiled, when eventually everything had been put to rights.

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