Page 122 of Bea's Book Wagon
‘Why don’t you go and see her now?’ suggested Archie, giving Bea a gentle nudge. ‘I’m sure this is just a setback, that’s all. It’s not over till the fat lady sings, remember?’
‘You’re the second person to say that to me today,’ said Bea, thinking of Katerina’s advice earlier.
This is just a setback, that’s all.
And, as Bea sipped her hot chocolate, she knew that things weren’t over yet. She would find a way through this … she had to.
CHAPTER 36
Nathan was furious over the way Lochlan had treated Bea. Sure, he’d never liked the guy; he was far too cocky and full of himself, trying to impress everyone with his flash car and tailored suits. He’d never trusted him. But to pull a stunt like this? It was low. Beyond low. What a snake. And after everything Bea had been through, too.
Where did that leave him, though? With Lochlan out of the picture, surely this was his chance? He might not get another. The door was open for him to be honest with her. He was in love with her, for God’s sake, shouldn’t he just tell her?
Sometimes you just had to take a leap and jump in head first…
It wasn’t that easy, though, was it? Bea must be in turmoil right now, and the last thing he wanted to do was add to her problems. Neither of them had brought up their near-kiss, and, if she felt anything for him, surely she would have said something by now?
He didn’t want to risk ruining their friendship; he couldn’t lose her, and telling her how he really felt could do exactly that.
As much as he wanted to be there to comfort her, he knew he needed to give her space; to stay away. He couldn’t trust himself not to blurt something out, something that could jeopardize their friendship for ever. If he declared his feelings and she didn’t reciprocate, their friendship might never recover, and that was a risk he just wasn’t willing to take.
As hard as it was, staying silent was his only option.
* * *
As it turned out, Jess was absolutely right about Violet. Once Bea had explained Lochlan’s plans for the building, Violet had mobilized the full force of the parish council to fight EliteHaven Homes. She called an emergency council meeting and started going to door-to-door with an army of volunteers, collecting signatures for a petition to block the development.
Bea hadn’t heard a word from Lochlan since their showdown. Apparently, he’d been seen leaving Blossom Heath on Sunday evening, so she figured he’d gone to London as planned, just without her. Lochlan had swept her off her feet and she’d been so caught up in their whirlwind romance, the dinners, his good looks, the whole idea of him, that she’d been blind to who he really was: smarmy, flash, selfish and a little controlling. She’d done what she’d always done, been swept away in her own fantasy, and now she was left feeling… well, a little silly and a lot mad.
Bea distracted herself by planning more events for the wagon. The Christmas season wasn’t that far away, and she wanted to secure pitches so she could forward forecast her income during the winter months. The business was still viable, even without a physical shop, so she needed to pick herself up, dust herself down and strike while the iron was hot.
Having secured slots at seven upcoming markets, including the pitch at the Pashley Manor garden party in September, Bea turned her attention to sorting out and cataloguing the stock she had stored in the garage. With so much going on, she hadn’t even had time to look through the boxes she’d bought at auction, but there was no time like the present, she thought, taking a pair of scissors to open them up.
Most of the books were either too damaged to be saved or would be going straight to the charity shop, but there was a small pile of old classics from the seventies and eighties that she thought she might be able to sell online, rather than in the wagon.
It wasn’t until Bea got to the bottom of the last box that she spotted something special: a copy of Agatha Christie’s The Mysterious Affair at Styles. It was protected by a clear, plastic jacket and she could tell from the cover that it was an old edition. She flipped it open carefully to read the title pages and discovered it was published in 1920, and was a first Canadian edition.
Her heart was racing as she quickly typed the details into Google on her phone and waited, holding her breath, for the search results to load. Her first instinct was right, if this was genuine, it was a find. Reading on, she discovered that the Canadian edition had preceded the UK release in 1921, and was considered highly collectable.
Could this be the real thing? It was definitely plausible; she could easily see how it could have sat in someone’s attic for years, simply overlooked and forgotten. She knew exactly who could help her with this; she just hoped he was at home.
* * *
‘Beatrice!’ said Arthur, greeting her with a smile as he opened the front door. ‘This is an unexpected pleasure.’
‘Arthur, great, you’re here,’ Bea replied, breathlessly, exhausted by running from where she’d had to park the car.
‘Are you okay? You seem a little flustered.’
Bea nodded. ‘Yep, but I really need your help with something,’ she said, holding her side where a stitch had rooted itself under her ribs.
‘Come in, come in,’ he said, standing aside. ‘I was just about to have some tea, would you like a cup?’
‘I’d love one, thank you.’
Once settled in the living room, Bea told Arthur all about what had happened with the bookshop and Lochlan, and how she’d only just got around to going through the boxes from the auction.
‘And look,’ she said, passing him the Christie novel. ‘It could be nothing, but, then again, it might be something,’ she continued, hopefully, ‘And I thought, if anyone could help me, it would be you.’
