Page 94 of Winter Nights at the Bay Bookshop
‘I love that you do that,’ I said. ‘Don’t ever change.’
‘Because I’mLittle Miss Perfectas I am?’ she quipped.
‘Like I said before, you’reLittle Miss Perfect-for-me. In fact, so perfect that I’m going to have to do this to show my appreciation.’
I saluted Lily, making her laugh.
‘Don’t you ever change either, Lars the Arse-some,’ she said, barely able to get the words out for giggling. ‘That’s awful! It sounded a lot more likeawesomein my head.’
‘It was close,’ I said, laughing with her. ‘I see what you were trying to do there but I think that might be yourdon’t let Grýla and the Christmas Cat gobble you upmoment.’
As we locked up and stepped outside into the cold winter night, still laughing, I thought back to how I felt like I’d lost everything three months ago – my business, my home and my friendships – but now I’d found everything I’d ever dreamed of and the future was shining as brightly as the northern lights because the friend I’d found when I was nine liked me for being me. Mask-free. Real.
51
LILY
One year later
Last Christmas Eve, I’d celebratedJólabókaflóðfor the first time ever in Whitsborough Bay and this year I was celebrating it in its birthplace. Gazing at the piles of books and discarded wrapping paper in Ragnar and Freyja’s lounge and watching Lars hug his dad as they thanked each other for their carefully chosen books, my heart felt as though it might burst with happiness.
What an incredible year we’d had. Lars’s mum, Jayne, had flown back to the UK in early January as planned. She’d originally intended on staying for a week but had extended that to a full month. Aileen, Jayne and Lars had spent a lot of time together getting everything out on the table. Lars had found the early discussions incredibly difficult and upsetting but it had been necessary for them to move forward. As suspected, Jayne had indeed fled from her grief and pain and had kept running, feeling like she’d burned her bridges at home as well as being afraid of her emotional state of mind if she slowed down. The whole experience had been cathartic for them all and now, even though Jayne was still travelling the world with her photography, she stayed in regular contact and spent quality time in Whitsborough Bay between assignments.
Dad returned to the bookshop at the start of the February half-term holidays but only on a part-time basis. It could take his knees up to two years to fully recover so he didn’t want to push himself too hard too soon, and he also wanted more time to focus on his studies. It was great news for Lars as it meant he could work the days Dad wasn’t in and balance that with upping his volunteering hours at Hutton Wicklow Library.
Having tackled the past and found peace with his mum, Lars was keen to do the same with his dad. Even though my dad had only just returned to work in February, the half-term break was a logical time for Lars to visit Iceland due to Flo and Cyndi being off college and available for extra shifts. I’d been dying to visit Iceland myself but it was more important that Lars had some alone time with his dad first.
Lars had expected the conversations with his dad to be more challenging than those with his mum but they’d actually been easier. Ragnar had turned sixty-five towards the end of last year and had retired from his job as a fisherman. He wanted to make the most of the years – hopefully decades – he had left and that included making peace with his son. He’d admitted to being consumed by guilt for abandoning his responsibilities when Pia died. He felt like a failure and seeing Lars acted as a reminder of his bad decisions and what he’d lost. Unable to find a way to deal with his emotions, especially when Lars was young and angry, he lashed out in return. While Ragnar was still prone to the occasional melancholy mood and most of the video calls Lars had were with Freyja and his half-siblings, father and son had thankfully buried the hatchet and I was so relieved for Lars that he finally had both parents back in his life and a meaningful relationship with them.
Lars promised me a birthday to remember. It fell on a Sunday so he arranged cover in the shop so he could take me to Húsavík for a long weekend. His family were so welcoming and on the Saturday evening we all travelled to Mount Kaldbakur – an extinct volcano seventy-five minutes’ drive west of Húsavík – where I saw the northern lights for the first time ever.
Lars had been right about photographs being amazing but how nothing beat seeing it in real life. That aurora was mainly green with flashes of blue and I’d been completely mesmerised and quite tearful at the beauty of it. TheAnne of Green Gablesquote I had on my bookshelves sprang to mind –Dear old world, you are very lovely and I am glad to be alive in you –and I turned to share it with Lars but he was down on one knee in the snow holding out a ring which sparkled under the lights of the aurora borealis. It was the easiest yes of my life and the best birthday gift ever. Freyja took a sequence of photos showing our silhouetted proposal and we had three of them in a frame on the wall at home beside the photo of Lars and Pia seeing the northern lights when they were little.
Home was The Lodge, although we’d officially renamed it White Gables as a nod to my favourite book and Pia’s. One of Lars’s Christmas gifts to me last year had been a stack of canvases and sample pots to create my mood boards for the house design and, across the year, it had steadily transformed from being a stark, echoey house to a colourful, welcoming home. I’d officially moved in once we were engaged although I’d spent little time at Green Gables after our first Christmas together.
Hendrix and Daisy had set a date for their wedding in two years’ time. Lars and I didn’t want a long engagement so we got married in late September – the autumn wedding I’d dreamed of. I wore that stunning midnight-blue dress with the gold embellishments I’d spotted in the window of The Wedding Emporium and everything from the cake to the place settings to the favours was book-themed. Books had, after all, been what brought us together at the start and reunited us years later.
We’d had major changes at Bay Books too. Hitting our forty-year anniversary at the start of the summer was a huge milestone to be celebrated and we ran a big programme of events including the town’s first-ever book festival. Lars had been instrumental in organising the incredibly successful festival which we now planned to host annually.
At the end of the summer, Mum and Dad took Granny Blue, Granddad George, Lars and me – the three generations who’d run the bookshop – out for a celebratory meal and Dad made an unexpected announcement.
‘I’ve loved every moment I’ve spent at Bay Books,’ he said, looking round the table. ‘It’s the place I met my beautiful wife and our wonderful daughter and it has been a privilege to work there with every single member of my family – including our newest member, Lars. But I’ve also loved every moment of studying for my Master’s and I don’t want to stop learning so I’m not going to. Next up is a PhD.’
We’d all congratulated him on his decision, but there was more to come.
‘I appreciate that working – even part-time hours – and studying a PhD is a huge commitment and I want to ensure I have time to spend with my wonderful new grandson so I’ve decided it’s time to step back from Bay Books.’
‘You’re retiring?’ I stared at Dad, my heart racing. He’dnevermentioned the ‘r’ word before, although I shouldn’t be surprised. He and Mum had been besotted with Kadence and Cody’s baby, Harvey, since he arrived in May – we all were – and he’d frequently said he wished he could see more of him.
Under the table, Lars placed a reassuring hand on my thigh, making me feel calmer as Dad continued.
‘I know it’ll be a shock for you, Lily, because I’ve always joked that I’d never retire but it’s time. The truth is, I haven’t run Bay Books for years. You’ve been the one in charge and you and Lars have partnered perfectly from the start to achieve great things together. Look at the anniversary celebrations, the festival and the amazing plans you have in place for the relaunch ofAnna and the Snow Dragon. That’s all you.’
‘I know, but this is huge.’
‘It is, but it’s what I want. So there are some decisions to be made, although there’s no rush. One idea is that I’m a silent partner and you run the business, Lily, just as you have done for years, with Lars as your assistant manager. Another is that Lars buys me out and you run Bay Books jointly.’
Beside me, Lars gasped. I reached for his hand and squeezed it as I smiled at him and nodded. It was a no-brainer for us both. So Lars had finally found his new full-time career and we were officially the joint owners of Bay Books with big plans for the New Year. The lease for The Hat Box next door – run by milliner Eleanor – had come up for renewal and she’d decided to move to a larger empty premises on the other side of Castle Street, joining forces with a friend who made and repaired garments. The landlord had agreed to sell us the building, giving us the space to install a lift and a much greater capacity for hosting author events. There were exciting times ahead for our bookshop in the bay.
