Page 87 of Winter Nights at the Bay Bookshop
Pulling up on the drive at home a little later, I messaged Dad before I got out the car to say I was back and I’d be over when I’d unpacked. As I unlocked the door, a reply came through.
From Dad
I’ve put some post on your dining table. The big box arrived at work but it was marked private so my dad dropped it off for you. See you later x
There was indeed a pile of post on the table – a few envelopes, a couple of small packages and a box with my name, the shop address andprivate and confidentialon it. It was long and wide but not very deep and not particularly heavy so I couldn’t for the life of me think what it could be. I hadn’t ordered anything personal to be delivered to the shop. Grabbing a pair of scissors from the kitchen, I carefully scored along the parcel tape and eased the lid open. Whatever was inside was carefully wrapped in several layers of bubble wrap and I couldn’t see through it, but there was a folded handwritten letter lying on top and my breath caught as I saw who’d written it – Eva and Axel Hansen.
Dear Lily
We were so touched to receive your email about your friend, Lars, and how much our mother’s book meant to him and his sister. Having experienced our own tragedy, our hearts go out to Lars for his loss.
We’re delighted that you stockedAnna and the Snow Dragonin your bookshop and that you’re eager to support the thirtieth-anniversary relaunch. We’ll be going on a countrywide tour of bookshops and libraries and would be delighted to include Whitsborough Bay in the schedule. We’ll be in touch in the spring when we’re ready to confirm plans.
Going back to Lars, we were sorry to hear that his sister’s book went missing. We know it’s not quite the same, but we’d be honoured if he’d accept this replacement copy. It seems our mother signed several copies for competition prizes before her untimely death but those competitions never ran. If the relaunch is a success and our mother has success posthumously, as hoped, we’ll auction them for charity but we were unanimous in wanting Lars to have a copy. We’ve also enclosed a couple of pieces of signed artwork – one from Mother which you’ll recognise from the first book and the other drawn by us from Mother’s rough sketches for book three. We’d ask that you don’t share the latter until after that book has been published to avoid spoilers.
With very best wishes to you, Lars and your respective families this Christmastime and we very much look forward to meeting you next year.
Eva & Axel
I couldn’t in a million years have predicted that my email to them would have led to such generosity. Carefully peeling back the layers of bubble wrap, I took out the signed book, breathing in its aroma before gently placing it aside. Each piece of art was in a cellophane wrapper with cardboard backing to keep it straight. The first image was one of my favourites of Anna and the snow dragon hugging each other on a snowy mountainside. I remembered the exact moment in the story it depicted. The second one was a night-time image of Anna flying on the snow dragon’s back with the northern lights glowing in the sky. It was stunning and, even though I didn’t know the story, it moved me to tears. I gazed at the northern lights, thinking about how much Lars loved them and all the places he wanted to visit from which the aurora could often be seen. Kadence was right. I loved Lars more deeply than I ever imagined it was possible to love someone and I knew he felt the same way about me. He should definitely spend time with his Icelandic family and visit the other countries that called to him and I’d wait for him for however long that took because I didn’t want to lose him. It had taken us long enough to get to this point. No way was I going to let him go.
After packaging everything back up into the box, I dug my phone out of my bag, wincing at the notifications of missed calls and messages from Lars and also from Cassie. I had some explaining to do to her too.
I found the number for Frank Elliott, the owner of Whitsborough Frames on Castle Street. Last year I’d tracked down an out-of-print copy of a book his wife loved for a milestone birthday and he’d said not to hesitate to ask if ever I needed a framing-related favour. Well, I needed a favour now, although I was hesitating as it was a bit of a liberty.
‘I know I’m asking for the impossible,’ I said when Frank answered the phone. ‘Especially at this time of year.’
‘We’re snowed under, Lily, but as it’s you and as we’ve just had a customer postpone the collection day for the order we were about to start on, you’re in luck. Just get here as soon as you can.’
Despite the urgency, I couldn’t leave without checking in on Dad first but he was engrossed in writing his latest Master’s assignment and assured me he didn’t need anything.
‘I’m more concerned about you, Lily. We all are, especially Lars.’
‘It’s been a tough week but my head’s clear now and I’m going to get things sorted, but that’s why I need to dash.’
‘Don’t let me keep you.’
I ran out to the car and set off into town. I just hoped I wasn’t too late.
47
LILY
Frank said he’d need two hours to frame the pictures so I decided to pass the time in the library. It was on Mariner’s Way which ran parallel to Castle Street, housed in the most beautiful old building which had once been a gentleman’s club. Although the glass entrance was modern and functional, I always looked up at the ornate brickwork above and imagined how it used to look in Whitsborough Bay’s Victorian heyday.
There was a tall artificial Christmas tree in the lobby and colourful garlands strung around the walls in the main library, interspersed with paper chains made in the children’s crafting sessions. As I passed the help desk, I smiled and waved at the two librarians there. I knew them well as I sometimes visited the library during my lunch break to see which books they had in stock and compare notes about what was popular, but they were helping customers so I wasn’t going to interrupt.
In the centre of the library on top of one of the display tables was a second Christmas tree but this one was made of old books stacked in ever decreasing circles and strewn with fairy lights. It appeared each year and I always marvelled at the time it must take to get it perfectly balanced.
Heading to the far end to a quiet corner, I plonked myself down on one of the soft chairs and took my phone out. Before I saw Lars, I needed to read and listen to his messages. He’d called eight times but he’d only left a message on two occasions and he hadn’t sounded angry in either of them – just worried about me. The written messages reiterated the same. He shouldn’t have had to chase me like that. I’d got on my high horse about the importance of honesty, but how honest had I been with him? My stomach churned at the thought of how much anxiety I’d caused him this week.
I listened to a voicemail from Cassie next. She was also worried about me but she was a tad more direct than Lars, finishing her message with,Stop creating problems that don’t exist, get your sorry little arse back to Whitsborough Bay and sort things out with Lars. Or do I have to drive to your sister’s and drag you back myself? Love you!
A WhatsApp message she’d sent late on Tuesday afternoon had me intrigued.
From Cassie
OMG! Have you seen the Paperback Pixie’s feed from Sunday? I think I know who it is!
