Page 67 of Bea's Book Wagon
‘You should see the state of my place on match days. Cheetos and beer cans everywhere.’
Bea let out a snort of laughter.
‘Sorry,’ she said. ‘I can’t imagine you in sweatpants, covered in Cheeto dust.’
‘Have I shattered the illusion?’ he asked. ‘I’m not only suits and sunglasses you know.’
‘Of course you’re not. It’s…’
‘What?’
‘Well, it means you’re not perfect, and that’s a good thing.’
‘Is it?’
‘Well, there’s no such thing as perfect, really, is there?’
‘No, I suppose not.’
‘Sorry,’ said Bea, as her phone vibrated on the coffee table. ‘It’s Jess. I won’t be a minute. Jess. Hi, sorry, can I call you later? Lochlan’s here—’
‘Check your email, Bea! Right now!’ said Jess, quickly.
‘Why? What’s happened?’
‘K. L. Fletcher has posted pictures of the book wagon in her author newsletter! She must’ve been at the fête; she’s featured you as her bookshop of the month!’
‘What? As in A Murder at Midnight? That K. L. Fletcher?’
‘Yes! That K. L. Fletcher.’
‘The Sunday Times-bestselling, Nibbie-award-winning K. L. Fletcher?’
‘Oh, for God’s sake, Bea. Yes! Mum signed up to her newsletter after you recommended her latest book. You subscribe too, right? Just check your email, would you?’ said Jess, exasperated.
‘Hang on,’ said Bea, swiping through her phone to pull up her email.
‘What’s going on?’ asked Lochlan, puzzled.
‘K. L. Fletcher has mentioned the wagon in her author newsletter—’
‘Wow! That’s amazing! A Murder at Midnight is brilliant,’ said Lochlan, sitting up.
‘You’ve read it?’ asked Bea.
‘Everyone’s read it!’ said Lochlan, leaning across to look at Bea’s phone. ‘Aren’t they making it into a movie?’
‘Bloody hell,’ said Bea, her hand shaking. ‘Jess is right! Look,’ she said, tilting the screen towards him. There it was. Under the heading ‘Bookshop of the Month’, a photo of the wagon with text that read, ‘First visit to Bea’s Book Wagon and I loved it! How cute is this little mobile bookshop?! Every town should have one! And that’s exactly why it’s my bookshop of the month!’
Bea scrolled through the rest of the email, which she knew went out to thousands of readers. There were more photos of the inside of the bookshop, as well as a link to Bea’s Instagram.
‘You should get on Instagram and check your notifications,’ said Lochlan, jabbing a finger at the screen.
‘Wow,’ said Bea, blowing out a long breath as she scrolled through to her account, which already had over a hundred new followers. ‘I can’t believe it. Bea’s Book Wagon’s Insta famous!’
‘Hello?’ said a voice at the other end of the line. ‘Bea? Are you still there?’ asked Jess.
‘God, sorry, I forgot you were there,’ said Bea, lifting the phone back up to her ear.
