Page 57 of The Cornish Cream Tea Bookshop
‘There doesn’thaveto be,’ Max repeated, and the atmosphere in the room shifted. No matter that it was an airy, high-ceilinged space with French doors at both ends; it suddenly felt tiny. Ollie’s attention fell to Max’s lips. They were slightly parted, a faint shadow of stubble along his jawline.
‘So, Sophia Forsythe-Hartley is launching her new book at our big Christmas event,’ she said brightly, trying to break the tension.
‘I knew she would be.’ Max nodded.
‘No you didn’t.’ Ollie whacked him gently on the arm. ‘You’re only saying that after the fact.’
‘Not true. I knew your enthusiasm would win her over.’
‘Flatterer.’
‘I’m being honest,’ Max said, laughing. ‘But I’m really pleased for you. You must be thrilled that she’s agreed to it; you all must be.’
‘Thea is.’ Ollie picked up a handful of crisps and munched through them steadily, her thoughts returning to the bookshop. ‘Becky … well, the jury’s still out. Or, to be more precise, she’s still not convinced byme.’
Max frowned and put his bottle on the table. Ollie noticed that the hem of his jeans was ripped, and that he was wearing white and red-striped socks. ‘Why not?’ he asked.
Ollie rolled her eyes, trying to make light of it. ‘She sees me as the classic London interloper, with fancy ideas and no clue about the issues facing the locals. She thinks Ishould be doing more for them, not burning down the bookshop with fancy celebrity chefs.’
Max shook his head. ‘But you’re doing so much. Your Book Wars idea, the book club, the quiz. And everyone wants a bit of glamour in their lives sometimes, whether that’s going to a posh dance in Truro, doing yoga at a spa instead of in your living room, or an event with a famous author at a bookshop.’
‘I know,’ Ollie said, ‘but my events so far … they’re bringing in the same crowds. To start with – with the book club, especially – I went to people I knew, and now I need to widen the reach of A New Chapter. It needs to be better known, a bigger part of the community.’
‘So, what are you thinking?’
Ollie felt nervous, suddenly. She was starting to realise how much Max’s opinion, his response, mattered to her. ‘Well,’ she said, ‘remember what I said to you when were at Crystal Waters?’ She got up and hurried up the stairs to the mezzanine. She found the long – far too long – snake of book-print paper chains she’d tidied away up there and, when she realised they were a monumental trip hazard, wound them around herself. She walked down the staircase, slowly and deliberately, making sure she didn’t tread on any of the links.
Max kept his eyes on her as she descended. ‘A paper chain dress?’
She grinned. ‘I mighthave got a bit carried away. Making paper chains is really soothing, so in the evenings, while I’ve been watching TV or listening to music, I’ve just been adding to it. And it made me think – we could run some Christmas decoration workshops for children. We get somany in the shop, but a lot of them, the younger ones especially, don’t always want to read. They want to draw or colour, be active.’
Max lifted one of the links. ‘Wait, are thesebooks?Isn’t this the equivalent of treason in your world?’
‘I printed the pages from the internet,’ Ollie said. ‘I didn’t rip them out of real books: I’m not a monster. But that’s the beauty of them. You can have any design you want: no limits.’
Max tugged gently, the chains making a pleasing, shivering noise as she moved, and then she was back on the sofa, next to him. She realised that some of the links were beneath her, undoubtedly squashed, but she didn’t care.
‘So you’re going to get the kids who come into the bookshop to add to your record-breaking paper chain trail?’ he asked.
‘Paper chains are just one idea. And one event isn’t going to make a difference: I can hear Becky telling me that right away.’
Max shook his head. ‘Don’t let Becky dictate your entire events programme.’
‘It’s not just about Becky, though. I want the bookshop to work for the whole town. I’m going to get this right, Max.’
‘You’re already working so hard.’
‘That doesn’t mean I can start coasting now. Besides, it’s coming up to Christmas, and Icannotget the Christmas events wrong. Running workshops for children would bring in their parents and carers, and it would give them somewhere different to go – something they could get excited about that would give the adults a breakandmake themmore aware of the shop. We could do readings, colouring in, other crafts.’
‘I can’t see Becky being against that.’
‘I hope not,’ Ollie said. ‘We always had traditional events at the last bookshop I worked in: author readings and signings, the occasional charity quiz. Port Karadow is so …’
‘Different?’
‘Friendly,’ Ollie said. ‘It’s a proper community, and the bookshop – especially because it’s in the Old Post House – feels as if it’s right in the centre.’
Max smiled at her. ‘Do you turn every problem into an opportunity to make things better?’
