Page 14 of An Enchanted Moment on Ever After Street
It makes me smile to myself and repeat the words in my head. There’s something about book quotes that makes things feel achievable, and somehow, Darcy chose the exact one I needed to hear.
This strange and mysterious man has got a better understanding of me than most people I’ve known for years. I only wish I had a better understanding of him.
4
When I got home last night, I put out feelers online to see if any authors or readers would be interested in attending a book festival in November, and so far, I’ve got three local authors who have offered to come for just the price of travel costs, and twenty readers who have said they’d buy a ticket if it didn’t cost a fortune, and then I couldn’t sleep for a strong mixture of fear and excitement, so I opened my laptop and started playing around with my graphics program, and I’ve made a couple of mock-up flyers for the event, and researched the practical things like how to sell tickets, and it’s made me feel a lot more on top of things, despite only snatching a couple of hours of sleep.
There’s a definite spring in my step the next morning as I crunch my way through masses of autumn leaves on the way to work and reach down to pick some up and toss them to Mrs Potts, who looks suitably uninterested.
As we approach the back lane from the woods, another splash of colour on the gatepost catches my eye. Like yesterday, there’s a mini rose plant waiting for me, yellow buds this time, sitting in a blue china pot. There’s another card on a stick poking out of it, written in Darcy’s gorgeous handwriting.
Yellow, the colour of Belle’s dress, because she was a woman who could do anything she set her mind to…
I turn it over.
And so are you.
I take a deep breath and hold it to stop myself crying. ‘Thank you!’
I linger for a few minutes, hoping he’ll come outside if he’s heard me, if he’s even there, but he doesn’t.
I’ve got the printed mock-ups of the flyers in my bag, so I take out one that’s sunshine yellow with a red rose border, and an open book in the centre that’s got ‘Bookishly Ever After’ written across it. I’ve put three spaces for author photos and added some potential events, like the author talks, a literary-themed afternoon tea, and the book character costume party we talked about yesterday. I leave it on the gatepost and pick up a stone to weigh it down before the autumn breeze blows it away.
I’ll catch him later to thank him properly, and the thought of seeing him again sends a lovely little thrill through me, but first, I have to do something else before I lose my nerve.
I feel a bit stalkery as I watch The Cinderella Shop, which is directly across the street from A Tale As Old As Time, waiting for opening time to roll around. I’m trying to be casual as I walk-not-run over to catch Sadie when she arrives, hoping she won’t turn me away after how nice everyone’s been to me and I’ve barely given them eye contact in return.
All thoughts of being casual are gone as I blurt out my idea about the book festival so fast that it sounds like one sentence. I’m abuzz with nerves and excitement, and Sadie’s laughing by the time I finish, and it would be generous to assume she’s understood approximately a third of what I said.
‘Marnie, relax,’ she says like we’re old friends. ‘Come inside, let me get it booked in.’
I look back across the road to check Mrs Potts is okay in her window seat, and then follow Sadie into The Cinderella Shop. It’s the most beautiful dress shop, full of Disney-style princess gowns and, since Sadie took over earlier this year, they’ve increased their range to include more accessible and affordable everyday dresses that appeal to everyone, as evidenced by how many customers they have now.
My awkwardness with talking to people comes to the forefront again as I try to slow down and tell Sadie about my idea. She’s a booklover too, and she listens to everything, scribbling down notes, oohing and ahhing over the mock-up flyers, and gasping in surprise when I tell her about the authors who have tentatively said they’d be interested in coming.
‘I can’t think of anything nicer than having an influx of booklovers visiting Ever After Street. The castle is yours for that weekend.’ She scribbles my name into a big diary. ‘Get these authors confirmed and get the flyers printed up for real. Everyone on the street will display them and hand them out to customers, and we can put some on the noticeboard by the carousel. How are you selling tickets?’
‘I don’t know. I did some research online last night, but…’
‘Digital tickets are always hassle-free, so guests can just show them on their phones on the day, but a bookshop needs something more traditional too, so get some paper tickets that customers can buy directly from you, or over the phone, and you either post them out or they can collect them on arrival. Everyone on Ever After Street can advertise them too and direct buyers to you, so make sure you put the shop’s phone number on the flyers.’
‘You’d really do that?’ I say, wishing I’d brought a notebook to jot down all her advice.
‘Of course.’ She must realise that I don’t have much of a budget. ‘You won’t have to do everything yourself, we’ll all help. Witt’s brilliant at decorating so he and I will deck out the castle. For catering, we could ask Ali from 1001 Nights; he’d love the extra publicity.’
‘I can’t afford much.’
‘Oh, nonsense, no one’s going to charge you for anything beyond basic ingredients. It’s all for the good of Ever After Street; we help each other out around here, and we’ll all benefit in the long run, you know that. And this costume party idea… Witt and I were talking about hosting another ball, so why don’t we combine that and make it a big literary ball where the dress code is to come as their favourite characters?’
I can barely contain my excitement. Sadie has got the type of can-do attitude that makes me feel like I can-do too, and by the time we’ve finished talking, I’m buzzing with anticipation. I’d half-expected that everyone would laugh at the idea of me running a book festival, but her enthusiasm spills over into me too and leaves me feeling like anything is possible.
When I get back to A Tale As Old As Time, I email the three authors who showed interest last night to get concrete confirmation, and spend the rest of the day hunched over my laptop at the shop counter, perfecting the flyers and making a batch of postcards too, enjoying the scent of the roses perfuming the shop, making me think of Darcy every time I inhale.
My U.N.Known loving customer comes in, and she sees the mock-up flyer on the counter and picks it up.
‘Oh my gosh, a book festival! Here? But nothing ever happens here! Are tickets available yet?’
I find myself laughing at her eagerness, majorly buoyed by her enthusiasm, and having to explain that we haven’t got quite so far as tickets yet.
