Page 3 of A Cornish Winter's Kiss

‘I know how to sound like Mummy when she’s cross.’

‘Do you now?’ Emily couldn’t help smiling again.

‘Pick up some of your toys, young lady.’ The little girl affected a serious tone and wagged her finger at Emily.

‘Very good. If there’s a part for a cross mummy in this story, you’ll definitely have to do the voice. Although it really does help Mummy if you can put your toys away sometimes, and it’s lovely to be helpful, isn’t it?’

Maple gave her a sage nod. ‘Yes, but not Max. He only cries and does poo poos.’

It was hard for Emily to read with a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth, but very soon both she and Maple were completely lost in the story. Every so often, Emily would stop and allow the little girl to repeat a line, so that it felt as if she was reading it too. It was a technique Emily had perfected in thereadalong sessions at the library, and it was a big hit with most children. Maple was definitely among that number, and when her mother returned with Max, she begged Emily to read the story again on the basis that her little brother hadn’t heard it yet and that it wouldn’t be fair if he didn’t.

‘Thank you so much. She loved that.’ The gratitude would have been written all over Bella’s face, even if her words hadn’t spelled it out.

‘So did I. Maple’s such a character.’

‘Tell me about it.’ Bella rolled her eyes. ‘Although I wouldn’t dampen that spirit of hers for the world.’

‘She’s absolutely perfect. They both are.’ It was moments like this when Emily wondered if she should consider a career as an English teacher, but the pondering never lasted long before she decided against it. She wanted to connect to people through the power of books, but not as a teacher. When she fell in love with a story, it was because it brought her joy, and having to stick to a curriculum would have been too restrictive. ‘I’ll leave you to it then, but you know where I am if you need another nappy change.’

‘We’re getting off in three stops, thankfully, so we shouldn’t have to bother you again, but I really would have been lost without you. You’re an angel.’

‘It was my pleasure.’ Emily’s cheek flushed with heat. She always found compliments hard to accept and for that reason alone, it was a relief to be able to move back to her original seat on the other side of the carriage and disappear into the pages of the latest Sophia Wainwright book. She didn’t look up again until Bella and Maple called out goodbye, and she got up quickly to help Bella unload her bags and the pushchair from the train.

‘You’re very kind.’ The elegant lady who’d been sitting opposite her since Salisbury nodded, as if to add emphasis to her words, and Emily felt her cheeks flush again.

‘Not really.’ She always brushed off compliments, but in this case the denial that she’d done anything special was justified. ‘I probably enjoyed reading the story to Maple more than she did. I used to work at a library, and we hosted all sorts of community events, but the ones that involved story time were always my favourite.’

‘You’re very good at it. What made you leave?’

‘Redundancy.’ Emily sighed. ‘I drifted into a job in data entry, because my best friend works at the same company and she got me an interview. It pays the bills, but it’s also killing my spirit and I know I need to find something else.’

‘You should always attempt to follow your dreams, even if it doesn’t work out. That way no one can ever say you haven’t tried.’ The older woman gave her a thoughtful look. ‘So, tell me, if you could do anything for a job, what would you choose?’

‘I’m not sure, seeing as no one is going to pay me to read all day.’ Emily had to suppress the urge to laugh at the thought. ‘I suppose I could train as a proofreader, or even an editor, but I’m not sure I’d have the skills. And looking for mistakes, or things to alter, would ruin the enjoyment for me.’

‘There is another way you could get paid for reading, one I might be able to help you out with.’ The woman leant forward conspiratorially in her seat. ‘I think you’d make an excellent voice actress, reading audio books.’

This time Emily couldn’t help laughing, and it was a few seconds before she was able to respond. ‘I’d love that, but I can’t see anyone wanting to employ me.’

‘I would for one.’ The expression on the other woman’s face was completely deadpan. ‘I’ve recently completed a novel and I’m not happy with any of the samples my publisher sent me of voice artists to record the audio version. None of them have the passion I heard in your voice when you were reading, or the hint of an authentic Cornish accent I can hear when we’re talkingnow. I’d love to put you in touch with the studio my publisher works with, to see what we can set up.’

‘Oh my God, really?’ Emily was having to hold on to the seat to stop herself from bouncing up and down with excitement as the woman nodded. ‘Please tell me this isn’t some kind of elaborate prank, because I don’t think my heart can take it.’

‘No joke, I promise. Have you got a card you can give me, or your name and email address if not?’

‘My name’s Emily, Emily Anderson, and I’m sure I can find something to write my email address on. I suppose I could always tear off the back cover of this book and write my details on the inside.’ She looked at the novel in front of her, contemplating the decision for a moment, before shaking her head and madly rooting through her handbag for something else instead. ‘Sorry, I just can’t do it, but I must have something else in here.’

‘I’m very glad to hear you don’t want to sacrifice the cover of your book, and don’t worry, I can put your details straight into my phone.’ The other woman gave her an amused look and Emily’s face flushed red yet again, her words coming out in a rush.

‘Sorry, you must think I’m so stupid, not thinking of that, but I’m just so excited, and I still haven’t even asked your name or what kind of books you write.’

‘I’m Sophia Wainwright and what I write is that.’ Sophia laid her hand on top of Emily’s book and this time there was no denying the amusement in her eyes.

‘You’re Sophia Wainwright?’ Emily’s mouth dropped open as Sophia nodded, but she was still struggling to believe it. She’d read a lot about Sophia Wainwright and all the photographs Emily had seen of her were shot in an artsy kind of way, with sunlight streaming through a window while Sophia scribbled words into a notebook, or an image of her walking by the seataken from a distance. There were never any close-up portrait-style ones which would give away her age, or reveal what she looked like in enough detail to identify her clearly, which was why Emily hadn’t had any idea she was sitting opposite her favourite author.

‘I am indeed, and if you need any evidence that I’m not some kind of mad crackpot, I’ve got the proof pages of the first book in the Goodwill Cove series right here, ready for one final read through before I confirm that I’m happy for them to go to print.’ Sophia pulled the proof pages out of her handbag and Emily caught her breath. She hadn’t needed any evidence that Sophia was who she said she was, but now her next novel was right in front of her and it was all Emily could do not to grab hold of it and start reading.

‘I can’t believe I’ve met you in person, and I can’t tell you how much your novels have helped me at difficult times in my life.’ Emily’s addiction to Sophia’s novels had begun years ago as she’d sat and read to her mother, but she didn’t want to gush about how much of a fan she was even more than she had already. She needed to at least act like she was cool enough to be able to narrate one of her novels without letting enthusiasm get the better of her.

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