Page 30 of The Christmas Book Hunt

‘Or what?’ said the woman. ‘You’ll call the police? You invited us in here, didn’t you?’

‘Why, yes, I think so,’ said June, looking confused. ‘Would you like a Penguin biscuit?’

Chapter 28

Meanwhile, Theo had been having an absolutely horrible time of it. Philip had been absolutely furious that he’d been on a highly expensive jolly with nothing more than a half-decent Darwin to show for it. Even worse, Theo had been far too scared to mention that he’d checked out where Mirren was on Snapchat maps and realised that she hadn’t come back down south at all; instead, she’d shot off back to Scotland, completely blindsiding him.

Mirren, in the house, was equally blindsided. Of course. How could she have been so stupid. He didn’t want to sleep with her because it was all fake. All of it. He was pretending to be charming, and chat and get on because he wanted the book too. That was all it was. She had been so naive and stupid. Ramsay had tried to warn her, as had the bookseller in Hay-on-Wye.

But now, with the man and the woman ransacking the shelves behind her, she couldn’t think of anyone else to call.

Theo sounded slightly gruff when he picked up the phone to her.

Her hissed, panicky conversation startled him awake.

‘But you didn’t tell me you were going to Melrose,’ he said, interrupting her.

‘You didn’t tell me you knew all about the book!!!!’ said Mirren. ‘I believed all that Dickens nonsense.’

‘Dickens is never nonsense—’

‘We don’t have time for this! They’re here! They followed me! From the bookshop!’

Theo sighed.

‘Oh goodness.’

‘They’re going through the shelves faster than I can! They just barged in! And there’s a really old lady here and they’re going to upset her!’

‘Okay,’ said Theo. He glanced over at his uncle, who was busy in the other room with a very serious buyer who had turned up with a security guard – always an excellent sign.

‘I’m going to tell you something you have to say to them to make them go away.’

‘How can I trust you?’

‘Well, you can’t,’ said Theo. ‘But firstly, you called me. And secondly, obviously I don’t want them to get it. I want— Ineed,’ he added desperately, ‘I need you to find it and bring it to me.’

‘No chance.’

‘Okay, bye.’

‘NO, wait. We’ll talk about it.’

Mirren walked up to the bookshop staff, who were hurling books and old family photos and treasures willy-nilly around the place. She looked at them. A month ago, she wouldn’t have dared. She was licking her wounds and keeping her head down. Violet had lived every day of her life boldly and on her own terms. That was something that Mirren had to learn. Because now she was a Book Person.

‘Excuse me,’ she said, folding her arms. The steely-haired woman got up, shooting her an icy look.

‘I just got off the phone with the livery company.’

‘No you didn’t,’ sneered the woman.

‘Check with the guild master,’ said Mirren, as Theo had told her to. She had absolutely no idea what he was talking about, but it was clear there was a lot about the arcane world of antiquarian bookselling she didn’t know at all. And at any rate, it seemed to be doing the trick: the woman had obviously heard of them, even if Mirren hadn’t. She carried on with what Theo had told her to say, and what he’d said they’d do.

‘You know where to find him. SW1A 0AA.’

Georges stopped at that, as the woman put up her hands to hush him.

‘You must get so many parcels,’ went on Mirren. ‘So many. So many books coming in; so many letters. How could you even know which the book lice would be in? So tiny. So impossible to tell. Until they eat your entire stock, of course. In three to six weeks.’

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