Page 115 of Meet Me Under the Mistletoe
The three friends stood quietly for a few moments in the grand hall decked with boughs of holly and let it wash over them one last time before they headed home.
Thirty-five
Ameerah pulled away and out into the London traffic, leaving Nory on the curb. The city had never felt so loud, and Nory had never felt so small within it. If there had been any snow here at all, no evidence of it now remained, which made her time at Robinwood Castle feel even more like a dream. The pavements were wet and shining in the lights from shop windows. People rushed past, oblivious to the brokenhearted woman who wandered among them. It had always amazed Nory how one person’s life could be irrevocably changed and yet the world kept on going regardless. She felt out of step with the present.
Nory looked across at Serendipitous Seconds. They were normally open on Sundays in December; it was prime shopping time, but they were closed today. She couldn’t expect Andrew to work a seven-day week while she’d been swanning around a castle. She should never have gone. She should have trusted her instincts and stayed the hell away from Guy and Robinwood Castle and head gardeners who made you fall in love with them.
The Father Christmas in the window rocked in his chair, and the twinkle lights picked out the Christmas titles stacked up around him. She didn’t need to go in. She could leave it closed and head to her flat and collapse in a heap on the sofa.Her flat, cozy and warm, floated into her mind—did she really want to be alone with nothing to do right now? She stood for another moment in the busy square, halfway between her flat and the shop, and then she made her decision.
Nory flicked on the lamps and breathed in the comforting smell of old books and the lingering scent of cinnamon and spice candles. She turned the shop’s sign to readOpenand parked her case and bags in the kitchenette. Then she began to busy herself in the little shop, visually taking stock of what had been sold and moving books from one place to another to keep the view fresh for returning customers.
She stood in front of the glass display case, where Serena De-Veer’s—Heba’s—precious first editions lay on a bed of crimson silk. They shouldn’t be displayed, not when the name on the cover was a lie. Nory unlocked the case and removed the books. She wrapped them carefully in a cotton sheet and locked them in the bottom of her filing cabinet.
It felt like she was dragging her limbs from one place to the next. The look of utter betrayal on Isaac’s face kept replaying in her mind, making her breath catch every time. She wished she could unsee it, but her brain seemed hell-bent on torturing her over and over.
It was a blessed relief when the first customers came in and distracted her from her thoughts, and the shop was mercifully busy with Christmas shoppers for the whole afternoon. At times she had a queue for sales at the counter while several other people waited patiently around the shop for her attention. She was spread too thin, rushing from one person to the next, but it was all-encompassing, and she was grateful for more than simply the sales that day.
When Nory locked the door at half past four, she was exhaustedbut not ready to be alone with her thoughts just yet, so she set about hoovering the shop and tidying, getting everything ready for the morning. Andrew would be most impressed when he got in tomorrow to find all the morning jobs already done.
Two unopened boxes lay behind the counter, and she recognized the handwriting on the labels as one of her vintage book contacts. She opened them up and breathed in the perfume of age and possibilities that rose from well-loved pages. This was treasure in paper form, and she knew instinctively which of her customers the various titles would suit, as though their names were already written into the bindings, waiting to be reunited. She would call them tomorrow and tell them what she’d acquired.
Eventually she had to go home. She thought about going out for dinner, but she would only be putting off the inevitable; sooner or later she was going to have to be alone, without the bolster of other people forcing her to keep her shit together.
Pepe’s was open, every table full, the smell of garlic and caramelized onions bursting into the air every time the door was opened. Nory thought about her empty fridge and barren cupboards and considered going in and ordering a takeaway, but she couldn’t face Anthony’s friendly greeting; she suspected that if anybody paid her the slightest kindness she would collapse into floods of tears. Instead, she ducked into the corner shop—where the staff only spoke to tell you the cost of your items—and bought herself two KitKat Chunkys and a Pot Noodle. It was a far cry from the gourmet pleasures she’d enjoyed for the last seven days, but given her mood, it felt fitting that her dinner should be crap too.
Her mum called as Nory was drinking the dregs of the salty broth straight out of the Pot Noodle tub.
“Hello, love, Ameerah called me. She’s filled me in on what’s happened.”
Of course she did.
“Right.”
“How are you doing?”
“Not so good, but I’ll be okay.”
“I can’t believe Isaac wouldn’t let you explain yourself. I’d expected more from him; he always seems like such a nice boy, but I suppose you never can tell.”
“It’s not Isaac’s fault, Mum. It’s mine and Guy’s. Whichever way you look at it, I betrayed Isaac’s trust.”
“I don’t like the sound of this Guy at all. Ameerah said you went to school together. And he’s married too!”
“Yes. All of the above.”
“Can’t you just talk to Isaac?”
“Mum, he doesn’t want to talk to me, and I don’t blame him.”
“Maybe Thom, or your dad could?”
“Oh god, Mum, no!”
“They might be able to help. Thom and Isaac go way back, and I think Isaac’s always looked up to your dad...”
“Mum, do not get Thom or Dad to talk to Isaac. That is the worst possible course of action you could take. In fact, please don’t tell Thom about Heba’s books. Isaac never wanted anyone to know, and I’ve already told too many people.”
“I only want to help, love. That’s a mother’s job. When our babies are hurt, we fix it.”
