Page 3 of Winter Nights at the Bay Bookshop
The bridal gown in Ginny’s window was beautiful but not for me. I wanted something with less lace and a fuller skirt when I married Wes. I closed my eyes for a moment, ejecting that thought. Iwasn’tmarrying Wes. That ship had sailed twice and I was through with men, at least for the foreseeable future. I’d trusted Ewan and Wes and they’d both broken my heart. I couldn’t face that happening again. And even if I was feeling brave enough to date again, there wasn’t time. With Dad out of action soon and Christmas approaching, I had more than enough to keep me occupied at the bookshop. That was my focus for now and exactly the way I liked it.
But Dad’s words from earlier crept into my mind:I liked Wes. I liked Ewan too. But I didn’t think either of them were your Gilbert Blythe. And, deep down, I don’t think you did either.Was he right about that?
2
LARS
I opened the front door on Monday morning expecting to see Mick or one of his colleagues from the removals company outside, but instead it was a courier.
‘Signed delivery for Lars Jóhannsson,’ he said.
‘That’s me.’
The squiggle I made with my finger on his handheld device bore little resemblance to my real signature, but it didn’t matter. It was the signatures on the documents in the thick cardboard envelope he passed to me that counted. I thanked him and closed the door, ripping the tab from the envelope and pulling out the sheaf of papers. I’d already checked my banking app this morning so I knew that the final payment had come through, but it somehow hadn’t felt real. It was just a bunch of numbers – albeit a lot of them – and I hoped that the signed paperwork would help it sink in.
When I was at school, I hadn’t a clue what I wanted to do with my life. I excelled in all my subjects and didn’t have any particular favourites so that didn’t help me with career choices. Narrowing down the subjects for sixth form was a massive challenge. I’d received A-stars across the board for my GCSEs and I’d wanted to do four A levels rather than the standard three but they wouldn’t let me, so I chose an eclectic mix of business studies, geography and German and enrolled for an A level in English literature online. It was the latter which unexpectedly led me to my career. The distance learning provider was the market leader at the time but, if they were the best, the bar was clearly set very low. The system was clunky to navigate, the materials were uninspiring and the tutor support limited.
‘I could set up something a million times better than this,’ I’d lamented to Nanna one evening, closing the system down in disgust after three failed attempts to upload an assignment.
‘Then why don’t you?’ she’d asked, a twinkle in her eye.
So I did. I’d always been a computer geek and had developed several websites, so developing a reliable user-friendly online learning platform couldn’t be that difficult. My business studies A level had also got me interested in entrepreneurship and I quite liked the idea of working for myself.
I was so proud of My Study Hub. The business had started small, offering distance learning GCSEs only before expanding to include A levels, professional qualifications and tuition in the creative arts. The student experience was at the heart of what we did with simple, intuitive navigation and learning materials available in a range of formats and layouts to cater for all needs from visual impairments to dyslexia to neurodivergence.
Last year, My Study Hub won its latest of many awards and, after the ceremony, I was approached by Calvin Warboys, CEO of the UK’s biggest online learning provider who, at a subsequent meeting, offered to buy the business. I genuinely hadn’t considered selling but his offer was too good to turn down and, with assurances that he’d keep my team on, I eventually agreed to his proposal. I’d spent the last six months gradually reducing my hours as I handed over my business but now I faced a major problem – what the heck was I going to do with myself?
I placed the paperwork on the stairs to take up to my office on the top floor later. I’d have a proper look through the contents then file it away, bringing a close to the first chapter of my career.
‘Was that Mick?’ Nanna asked when I returned to the lounge.
I shook my head. ‘Delivery for me. It’s official. Got the money, got the paperwork and I’m now unemployed.’
Nanna laughed. ‘Unemployed? What are you like? I think this calls for a celebratory drink.’
‘Nanna! It’s only nine o’clock.’
‘I was thinking more along the lines of another cup of tea.’
‘That I can cope with.’
In the kitchen, I rested my back against the worktop as the kettle boiled and stared at the boxes piled up at one end. The sale of my business wasn’t the only chapter coming to an end today. Nanna was moving into Bay View Care Home – the leading facility in Whitsborough Bay for the elderly who either wanted to live independently but with help onsite or who needed some additional support with their health and mobility. I’d taken Nanna out for a meal to celebrate the start of handing over My Study Hub when she startled me with the news.
‘I’ve been thinking about the future too and, while I’ve been blessed with good health so far…’ Nanna had touched the leg of the wooden dining table, ‘…that might not always be the case. I put my name down for a room at Bay View a while back and?—’
‘What? Why didn’t you say?’
‘Because they had a long waiting list so it could have been years before I had the chance of a room,’ she responded. ‘However, they had their plans approved last year to expand into the hotel next door. The refurbishment’s progressing and the show apartment’s now ready for viewing. I’ve made an appointment for tomorrow and I’d love it if you’d come with me.’
‘Of course, but…’ I shook my head, struggling to take it in. ‘Are you sure about this? You love that house.’
Nanna had lived in the same three-storey four-bedroom terraced house just outside Whitsborough Bay town centre since marrying my grandpa, Norman, sixty-three years ago. Sadly, Grandpa had only lived to the age of fifty so I’d never met him, although I felt as though I knew him through Nanna’s stories of how happy they’d been together. When my parents separated and my dad – or Pabbi in Icelandic – returned to his native Iceland, they sold our family home and Mum and I moved in with Nanna. I was eleven and I vividly remember Mum saying it would be temporary. Twenty-three years later…
‘Idolove my home but I have to be practical about the future. Geraldine’s already looked around and put a deposit down, and Hilary’s got a viewing next week.’
Geraldine and Hilary were Nanna’s two closest friends and, like her, had been widows for many years. The three of them met up regularly and went on holiday together and I’d been extremely grateful for that friendship because working weekends and evenings had been the norm for me, meaning I wasn’t great company for Nanna.
‘Oh! I get it now,’ I said, faking my indignation. ‘You’d rather live with your besties than me.’
