Page 77 of Book People

I pause to admire it a moment, then pull open the door and step inside.

Kate is standing at the counter with the person we’re meeting today.

Lisa Underwood.

Lisa is in her mid-fifties, short and wide, with straight white hair that hangs to her shoulders. She has a blunt fringe and her startling green eyes stare through the chunky, bright-green-framed glasses she wears. She’s in a simple dress of kelly green, with a long, braided necklace of bright gold. Beside her stands a very tall, stern-looking man with sharp, hawkish features.

Lisa is talking to Kate and, as soon as I see Kate, the rest of the world vanishes, the way it always does when she is in the room.

Kate is smiling, shining like the ray of sunshine she is. She’s wearing that white lace dress again that she wore to the pub that night, and, yes, her underwear is visible, and, yes, I can’t look away. It’s pink and pretty and delicate.

I watched her putting it on this morning, and told her to forget the slip, and then we were almost late to open up because I had to show her how much I liked it.

I still like it, but I also want to take it off and see what she looks like wearing that dress with nothing on underneath it.

Fucking hot.

Not that I should be thinking of Kate naked or otherwise just now, because Lisa Underwood is here – she wanted to arrive the week before the festival is due to start so that she could look around the village first, before all the crowds descend.

‘Sebastian,’ Kate says as I approach, and smiles as if I’m the best thing she’s seen all day, and for a moment I can’t breathe. ‘This is Lisa Underwood. Lisa, please meet Sebastian Blackwood, owner of Blackwood Books, which you can see just across the road.’

Lisa gives me a startlingly charming smile and holds out her hand. ‘Sebastian,’ she says warmly. ‘So lovely to meet you. This is my husband, Clive.’ She indicates the hawkish man, who is standing close to her and regarding me suspiciously. He’sprotective of her, I can see that, and even though I’m no threat, I can’t help but approve.

I take her hand and shake it. ‘A pleasure,’ I say. Then I take Clive’s hand and shake that too, giving him a sharp, masculine nod, which he returns.

‘So . . .’ Lisa claps her hands together. ‘Kate was just telling me that the two of you are the great-grandchildren of the writers of those letters. How spectacular. You can’t imagine how excited I was when Kate got in touch about the festival, and then mentioned the letters.’ Her expression becomes serious. ‘She says that privacy is important to you, so I just want you to know that I won’t use the real names of people or the village. Nor will I use the content of the letters, except as inspiration.’

I like her. She’s very personable, and I like that she’s straight up addressing any privacy concerns. I like that Kate mentioned that to her too.

‘Thank you for clarifying that,’ I say formally. ‘I appreciate you thinking of it.’

‘It’s my standard disclaimer whenever I want to use real-life stories as inspiration. Also, I hope you won’t mind, but I’d love it if you, and Kate here, could read a draft of the manuscript. I don’t want to tread on any toes.’

‘So, you’re definitely going to use those letters, then?’ I ask. ‘For a book, I mean?’

She nods vigorously, her eyes shining. ‘If that’s all right. It’s such a beautiful love story.’

‘It’s a tragic love story,’ Kate puts in. ‘I don’t want to tell you what to write, Lisa, but it would be great if you could give them both a happy ending.’

‘Such a romantic.’ Lisa smiles, and gives her an indulgent pat on the arm. ‘We’ll see. Depends on what track the story takes. That’s more important, as you know.’

‘I want to thank you, Lisa,’ I say. ‘For coming to Wychtree. We’re a small village and this festival was started by my great-grandfather in the early fifties. So, as you can imagine, it means a lot to the village and to me personally.’

Lisa’s gaze is bright with interest. ‘He started the festival, did he? How amazing. I’d love to hear all about him and your history. Perhaps at dinner tonight?’

‘Certainly,’ I say.

Lisa glances at Kate. ‘Well. I love this little bookshop. It’s absolutely perfect.’

Kate visibly glows at the praise. ‘I’m so glad you think so. You should see Blackwood Books, though. It’s amazing. Different vibe, but such a wonderful space.’

I can almost feel my chest inflate with pride at her words, which is annoying, because I know my bookshop is amazing. I don’t need her praise. Yet I find myself hungry for it all the same.

‘It’s a little tired,’ I say, self-deprecating. ‘But the readers find it suffices.’

There’s a twinkle in Lisa’s eye for some reason. ‘Well, I’d love to see it. Would you show us around, Sebastian?’

I’m very aware of her hulking husband standing close behind her. He’s less than an inch shorter than I am, and I am very tall. His gaze is definitely suspicious.

---