Page 70 of The Battle of the Bookshops
In contrast to the waiting area, accident and emergency was humming with industry, but it was preternaturally hushed and muted. Roman took them both to a curtained-off cubicle at the end of the corridor. Slipping between the curtains, Jules, for a heart-freezing moment, thought Flo had died. She looked so tiny and pale, lying on the bed in a hospital gown, with wires and tubes all over her. Her eyes were closed and sunken, but—as Jules gasped in shock—she opened her eyes, turned her head, and smiled weakly.
“Darling girl,” she mumbled, as if the effort of talking was almost too much. “What a fuss this all is.”
“Fuss?” Jules echoed, as she sat on the side of the bed and tookFlo’s hand in her own. “I hear you’ve been making a right spectacle of yourself.”
“I have, I’m afraid.” Flo smiled. “And this one”—she tiredly indicated Roman—“has been a lifesaver. Literally.”
“So, what now?” asked Jules, looking around. Where was everyone? Why wasn’t somebody actively doing something to make her aunt better?
“They’re keen to take me to the ‘path lab’ or the ‘cath lab’ or somewhere,” Aunt Flo murmured. Talking was clearly exhausting. “I’ve had a tiny heart attack, and my arteries are bunged up, mortifyingly. A few too many cream teas, I expect. They’re going to put in stents, and then I’ll be good as new. It’s amazing what they can do these days.” Her eyes fluttered closed, and she seemed to drift off for a few moments.
Her own heart pounding, Jules waited, holding Flo’s soft, cool hand in her own strong, warm one as if the very connection between them could fill the old woman with the vitality that seemed to be draining from her.
Flo sighed, her eyes opening again. “I’m so glad you’re here, darling. It’s a tonic to see you. How did it go today?” she asked, as if this were the most normal conversation in the world.
“Reallywell,” said Jules, squeezing Flo’s hand. “All good. Charlie and I will tell you the details.”
At this, Roman, standing by the opening in the curtain, crooked his finger at Jules, indicating she should go with him. She got up, leaving Charlie to take her place.
“They’ve been waiting for her to see you before they take her up,” Roman murmured to her.
“It’s straightaway?”
“It’sbeforestraightaway, but, Jules, I need you to understand...” His eyes locked on hers, his warm hands placed heavily, comfortingly, on her shoulders now. “Things aren’t looking good,” he saidslowly, waiting for his words to sink in before he continued. “She could go at any moment, and inserting the stents is not without risk.”
Tears flooded her eyes, and she brushed them away angrily with the back of her hand. “She can’t see me like this,” Jules said, sniffing and straightening her spine.
“Good girl,” said Roman. “Now go back in and tell her you love her. I’ll let the team know she’s ready to go.”
It was an agonizing wait, but relief flooded through Jules as soon as she saw the smile on the doctor’s face as he came to give them a report. By the time Flo had been sent up to the cardiac ward to rest, Jules was so exhausted she felt as if she were underwater. Movement was slow and effortful; speech indistinct. She barely remembered Roman taking her back to the shop and putting her to bed.
After such enormous events, the routine of the next few weeks felt odd. Flo was back at home now, fractious at being refused permission by Jules to be in the shop. Instead, she was confined to the flat, where—hearing that Freya and Finn had announced a pregnancy—she frustratedly knitted the baby an extensive wardrobe, becoming enmeshed, despite herself, in the daytime drama repeats on the television.
The only way Jules could cope with the excitement of the coming auction was to pretend it wasn’t happening and bury herself in the challenges of running the shop. She was slowly disposing of the stock by means of flash sales: crime books one week, romance the next. She spent a lot of time in the stockroom too, clearing out and packing up any books she could persuade the publishers to take back in return for a refund.
She and Flo were avoiding speaking about the grimoire. Julesknew that Flo felt bad about letting such an important item go out of the family, but she was desperate to improve her aunt’s financial situation, and selling the grimoire seemed the only way.
Graham had also been horrified to hear of Flo’s illness and had been decorously laying siege, turning up at the shop with beautiful bunches of late dahlias from his garden and healthy treats, such as Scottish oak-smoked salmon from the deli, and taking Flo, well wrapped against the mid-autumn chill, for short, slow walks along the gusty seafront.
Jules and Roman were back to spending every moment together that they could—not having elaborate dates, but hanging out quietly, going for walks, chatting for hours and hours, sometimes just sleeping in each other’s arms. Flo, insisting she needed to regain her independence, was encouraging Jules to spend time with Roman up at the chapel in Middlemass. There, they felt cocooned in their own little world.
Despite the desperate situation, and the almost certain imminent loss of the shop, Jules couldn’t remember a time she had ever been so happy.
Roman was busy dealing with the authorities and insurance company over the fire damage to his shop. The Montbeau family decision had been to carry out structural repairs to the extent that the shop was a refurbished shell and then find another business—any business—to rent it. The all-too-brief era of The Portneath Bookshop was over. For a while Jules felt resentful that the Montbeaus had been so quick to let go of a project that had wreaked such havoc on her own family’s lives. On the other hand, it had also been directly responsible for the existence of Roman in her life, so she stifled her feelings.
“It’s time you met my family,” Roman said one morning over a breakfast of eggs Benedict. Poaching eggs the proper way, swirling them into a pan of boiling water, was another of Roman’s manytalents, Jules was impressed to see. The plan he proposed that morning, however, was terrifying.
“Or,” she suggested, “you and I could just go away and spend the rest of our lives together, and I could never, ever have to be in the same room as the rest of your family. Ever.”
“Hmm.” Roman pretended to consider, with his head to one side. “Impractical? I think you’re gonna have to face up to them at some point. Dad can be contrary, I’m not denying that, but Mum’s an absolute sweetheart.”
Jules frowned, making Roman laugh.
“Plus, I’ll protect you,” he added, dropping a kiss on the top of her head as he put her plate in front of her.
Despite Jules’s reservations, an arrangement was made for her to join the extended Montbeau family for Sunday lunch later that week.
Chapter 31
