Page 73 of The Romance Library

‘You’re not a bookworm, are you?’ she laughed.

‘I like books, but it’s been a while since I’ve read them.’

‘If your friend is a bookworm, it won’t matter if she already has a copy of the book or not! Do you know how many copies I have of my favourite romance novel?’

‘Two?’ I replied.

‘Seven.’

‘Seven copies of the same book?’ My face crumpled.

‘Yep! I have the hardback, the special-edition hardback, the first-edition paperback, the Kindle version, the audiobook and the signed second-edition paperback and another paperback version my friend got me from New York when she went on holiday. The covers in the US and UK are usually different, so I like to have both.’

‘Wow.’ Mind blown. ‘I had no idea. But if you’ve already read the book, what do you do with all those other copies?’

‘Put them on my bookshelf and admire how pretty they are, of course! And the thing is, these days, readers like annotating books, so it’s always good to have at least two copies.’

‘Why would they annotate them?’

As the shop assistant attempted to explain to me that romance readers often highlighted their favourite passages and tabbed the pages according to different categories, my brain frazzled. I had no idea.

‘And do you sell these colourful tab things and highlighter pens?’

‘Course!’ she said. ‘Shall I get you some?’

‘Okay.’

‘Shall I ring these up for you?’

‘Please.’

I followed her to the till, clutching a tower of books. Once I’d settled up, I thanked the shop assistant for her help.

‘You’re welcome. Hope she enjoys!’ She handed me the bag, then popped the receipt inside.

As I stepped out of the bookstore and headed to the deli, I chuckled to myself. I was crazy. That was the only explanation. I’d only intended to buy one book but had left with eleven. And only three of those were for me. It’d be worth it, though.

After I’d bought a sandwich, I glanced at my watch. It was twenty to five. I’d been in that bookshop for almost an hour. That wasn’t good. Now I’d hit rush hour. The thought of being stuck on the motorway made my stomach sink. And the idea of being late was even worse.

The Tube station sign straight ahead caught my eye. I didn’t normally take public transport, but it was only a couple of Tube stops to Victoria Station. From there, I could get the train straight to Sunshine Bay, which would be much quicker than driving.

I strode towards the station. A woman was sat outside begging and my chest tightened. I knew it was better to give money directly to charities, which was why I donated to Shelter every month, but I couldn’t bear to look at her face knowing she was in need and I could help.

Before I knew it, I’d reached into my wallet and handed her a fifty-pound note along with the paper bag containing the sandwich I’d just bought. I hadn’t eaten all day, so was starving, but I could easily pick something up when I got off the train. This poor woman didn’t have that luxury.

‘Thank you!’ She looked up at me, eyes like saucers. ‘Thank you so much!’

‘You’re welcome.’ I smiled.

Minutes later I was on the Tube and luckily when I got to Victoria, there was a train leaving in seven minutes. Once I boarded the carriage, I was even lucky enough to find a seat.

Ten minutes into the journey, I remembered I had the books. I reached into the bag, pulled out one of the thrillers and started reading.

And I didn’t stop until the driver announced that we’d arrived at Sunshine Bay.

24

Jess

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