The Bookshop of New Beginnings: Heart-warming, uplifting – a perfect feel good read!. Jen Mouat

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СКАЧАТЬ the hard work starts,’ Kate said, shooting a warning look at Emily. She didn’t want Emily to lose sight of the road ahead, the hurdles they must vanquish along the way.

      They drove in convoy out of town, past the Bladnoch Inn and distillery and along narrow, tree-lined roads. Bluebell Bank was a mile from town, sitting atop a small rise with its gardens spilling down towards the river. A twisting drive led through a thicket of steadfast old trees.

      Turning off the road, negotiating the bumps and turns of the track in her too-pristine car, Kate had a sudden vision of these woods filled with children. She could see herself and Emily darting through the long grass, barefoot, hair flying, grabbing the old gnarled trunks to peer out and glimpse their pursuers. She could hear their gasping laughter, feel the twigs and rough grass catch at her feet; Fergus, cursing as he stumbled gracelessly through the woods in pursuit, while Dan laughed complacently, calling out that he was wasting his time, they’d be better off lying in wait for the girls to risk a final flight towards the house – Lena’s protection being the only safety net in this ferocious game of chase and catch. Kate had wanted Dan to catch her; she had longed to feel the crush of his arms as if in embrace, to be swung off her feet. Dan had seemed so tall and handsome and brave, everything her girlish soul could desire.

      The garden opened up before Kate as she took the final bend and pulled the hire car to a stop on the square of gravel out front. The house, backlit by late afternoon sunshine, radiated all the warmth and happiness of those perfect childish interludes.

      She felt a fresh flood of nerves as she stepped out of the car. There were birds singing in the trees and the air smelled of summer: honeysuckle and manure-fields and rain-soaked vegetation. Here I am, she thought. I am here. They were two distinct sentiments, representing both what she had come to offer and the absolution she hoped to receive.

      The front door opened and a figure hovered on the bowed step. Long white hair formed a cotton-wool halo around her head and her expression was curious, eyes squinting in the afternoon sun. Her sinewy frame was familiar, clad in an over-large blue shirt with the sleeves rolled up over gnarled forearms.

      ‘Lena,’ Kate cried joyously, and hastened across the drive as a russet brown dog squeezed around Lena and limped down the steps, wagging a feathery tail: an old man now, with greying muzzle and stiff legs.

      Emily called Kate’s name softly: a warning. That, and some other instinct, made Kate stop short before she reached the steps. Lena stared at her, unsmiling. ‘Who is it?’ she asked querulously, looking past Kate to her granddaughter. Kate turned to glance at Emily who was still dragging her suitcase out of the boot of the rental car, then bent and wound her fingers in the dog’s fur for comfort.

      ‘Lena,’ Emily said softly. ‘This is Kate. She’s my friend. She’s come to stay for a while.’

      Kate stared at Emily. Why on earth would she introduce her as a stranger? She turned to Lena, who was searching her face, a veneer of polite friendliness replacing her former suspicion. That scared Kate more than anything – Lena was rarely polite. Gruff, unrelentingly honest, fiercely loving, but not polite. ‘Come in,’ Lena said. ‘Would you like some tea?’

      Emily pushed gently past Kate, who was frozen on the drive, and set her suitcase on the step. She stretched and kissed Lena’s weathered cheek. ‘I didn’t know Kate was coming until the last minute,’ she said.

      ‘I should have called,’ Kate began, baffled, floundering. ‘I wanted to surprise Em …’

      ‘There’s plenty of room,’ Lena said laconically. She took a step back and her tone turned petulant. ‘Where’s my hat?’ She shuffled off down the hall muttering, the dog at her heels.

      Emily met Kate’s questioning gaze fiercely; the answers she sought would have to wait. ‘I’ll find it for you,’ she called out, hurrying after Lena, bumping the suitcase behind her. Perplexed, Kate followed.

      The downstairs hallway had not changed in all the years Kate had been away. The walls were apple green and covered with framed pictures of Cottons through the ages: Emily and the brothers, their parents, Jonathon and Melanie, photos of Jonathon and his sister Val as children, a sepia snap of Lena’s brother Austin in military uniform, a smiling couple on their wedding day some eighty years ago, Lena’s own wedding to James, now twenty years dead. Kate traced the dusty generations along the wall with a wistful fingertip.

      Then she spotted a photograph of herself. She and Emily were squeezed onto a rock with Rigg Bay resplendent behind them, squinting and staring at the camera and dangling their dirty bare feet. Their arms were wrapped around each other, heads pressed close – Kate’s honey-blonde plaits and Emily’s wiry curls intermingling. Emily was grinning into the lens; Kate looked unrelentingly serious. She stopped short and stared at the picture and suddenly Emily was beside her, unhooking it from the wall, carrying it into the kitchen. Kate stepped over her abandoned suitcase and followed.

      Lena stood at the counter heaping tea bags into a pot, her immediate need of her hat forgotten. ‘Look, Lena.’ Emily tapped her on the shoulder, pushed the picture in front of her and gestured from the photograph Kate to the real life version lurking anxiously in the doorway. The dog wagged and weaved between them, tongue lolling.

      Lena looked from Kate to the picture version, recognition dawning like an opening bud at first sun. ‘It’s you,’ she said, wonderingly. Something changed in her face and she was the Lena Kate remembered. ‘The bangle girl.’ The realisation brightened her immeasurably, but there was strain there still, a moment of uncertainty, a veneer of lingering pretence.

      For a second, Kate was baffled, then Lena pointed to the picture and held it out to Kate with a grunt. When she looked more closely, Kate noticed them: numerous plastic bands in fluorescent pink, yellow, green, looped around her wrist. Emily gave them to her for her twelfth birthday and she refused to take them off, even when she slept. They were just pocket money toys from the paper shop in Wigtown, but they were as precious to Kate as diamonds. The first piece of jewellery anyone ever bought for her. ‘Oh yes,’ she cried. ‘I’d forgotten those. I still have them somewhere.’

      ‘Sit down. Sit down.’ Lena flapped a big, bony hand, directing them both to the scrubbed refectory table in the midst of the big, untidy kitchen. She sounded more resolutely herself.

      Kate sat. Emily took the chair opposite her and set the photograph between them. ‘Thanks.’ She accepted a cup from Lena and sloshed in some milk, took a sip, winced as it burned her tongue. ‘Kate’s come to help me set up the bookshop.’

      Lena banged a tin of biscuits down on the table and gave a grunt which might have been encouragement. Emily continued, describing their plans. She was eager, a child spinning dreams, and Kate felt the weight of her impending success or failure resting squarely on her own shoulders. Several minutes into the conversation, Lena’s eyes clouded over and her face changed, adopting a baffled smile, nodding politely. At the next mention of the shop, Lena said; ‘A bookshop? How lovely.’ As if it was the first she’d heard of it. Kate’s anxiety ratcheted up another notch.

      They finished their tea and custard creams, then Emily pushed back her chair. She plucked Lena’s ancient hat from the dresser where it rested on a hook meant for cups and handed it to her. ‘Why don’t you go and potter in the garden with Bracken? I’ll show Kate to her room and then make dinner.’

      Lena put on the hat, the wide brim of it almost concealing her face entirely. She stood up obediently, whistled to the dog who was curled up under the table waiting hopefully for crumbs, and they both departed through the back door. Kate could hear her voice as she proceeded down the path, a gruff, comforting hum, and through СКАЧАТЬ