Page 90 of The Cornish Cream Tea Bookshop
‘Yes, but sadly, on this occasion, I have proved Becky right.’
‘Nope. It’s just a blip. Tell me your new plan.’
Ollie looked out of the window. All she could see were rooftops, dusted with a light sprinkling of winter sunshine, and a cold blue sky. If Max had been staying here longer, she would have brought her garlands from home to cheer the place up. One fibre-optic snowman was not enough.
‘Why are you stalling?’ Max asked. ‘What is it?’
She sighed. ‘On Saturday night, in Liam’s study, you were getting a book down from the shelf.’
‘Ah,’ he said softly. ‘No tiptoeing around this, Ollie. We need to be open with each other. If you’re worried, just say,This relates to when your myocarditis came back and I’m worried you won’t like it,then I’ll say,I’m fine because I’ve got you, so go ahead and talk to me.Fair?’ He tugged gently on her hair, and something loosened inside her, some more of the tension that she’d told herself had gone, but was still lingering.
‘Fair. So, this is about Saturday night.’
‘Shitty night: I ruined a great evening. Tell me.’
‘Do you remember why you were interested in the book? The one on the top shelf?’
He looked at her, his face blank, and then his eyes widened. ‘It was one of Bryan Mailer’s mysteries, and you told me that Liam hadn’t heard of him.’
‘Exactly. And, it turns out, there was quite a significant reason why he had given me the brush-off.’
Max waited, lips parted.
Ollie smiled. ‘It’s because Liam ByrneisBryan Mailer. He’s the author. He wrote all those books.’
Max stared at her. ‘What?’
‘It was his pseudonym. Apparently he never revealed he was the author, so all these people – all the Port Karadow residents who love his books – have no idea their mystery writer is the slightly reclusive, kind-hearted owner of Foxglove Farm.’
Max rubbed his forehead. ‘That is nuts.’
‘I know! And those legends, the ones we’ve been following?’ She took a deep breath. ‘So—’
‘I think I know what you’re going to say now,’ Max cut in.
‘Huh.’ She shook her head. ‘You’re spoiling my second big reveal. And you might not like it, either. It might really piss you off.’
He grinned at her, and despite his obvious tiredness, the fact that he was lying in a hospital bed, his smile lit her up inside.
‘What are you looking so smug about?’ she asked.
‘I’m looking smug becausethisis the secret I thought you were going to tell me. That you’d discovered the book of legends you’ve been carrying around have no real historical basis: that we’ve been chasing fictionalfairy tales.’
Ollie’s mouth fell open. ‘You … Howdid you know?’
‘I didn’tknow. I suspected.’
‘For how long?’
‘Ever since I came to meet you at St Ethel’s church.’
‘What made you suspicious? Come on, Max, this is like getting blood out of a stone.’
He sighed. ‘That legend was completely new to me, and I’ve lived in this area my whole life. And then, when you told me about the others, I hadn’t heard of them either – not a whisper. With the mystery series, when you said some of the legends were the same, I just assumed the author, Bryan Mailer, had taken his inspiration from your little grey book. I hadnotconsidered that Liam was behind all of it, that he’s been hiding this huge secret. I’m guessing, now, that he wrote the stories in the grey book too?’
‘He did. It was a companion piece to the series. A publicity stunt of sorts.’ She shook her head. ‘Why didn’t you tell me what you suspected?’
He put a finger to her cheek, turning her head so she was looking at him properly. ‘Because I didn’t want you to stop inviting me on those walks. It was as if I got a charge off your excitement: I felt more alive with you than I did anywhere else. Of course, then I realised it had nothing to do with the walks or the legends, because I felt that way whenever you came into Sea Brew. I realised that charge I was getting, it was me falling in love with you. So … anyway. There you go.’
