Page 46 of An Enchanted Moment on Ever After Street
The headline reads:Lonely bookseller bringing friendship to Ever After Street.
‘Well, that’s insulting,’ I mutter. ‘Lonely or not, I didn’t need the whole world to read it in twenty-two-point Book Antiqua.’
You may think A Tale As Old As Time, the bookshop on cutesy fairy-tale lane Ever After Street is all about whimsy fairy tales, but an unnamed source has been in touch withThe Wye Wordto let us in on a new and unexpected venture the bookshop is undertaking – friendship dates. Yes, you heard that right. Owner Marnie Platt invites you to attend the bookshop’s ‘friendship nights’ to be matched with a potential ‘friend’ and go on a platonic date to see if you connect with the other person on a ‘friendship’ level. Just when you thought you’d heard it all, eh? Miss Platt believes that a liking of similar books can lead to a ‘special friendship’ between bookworms.
‘Why are there inverted commas around every mention of friendship? They couldn’t be any more disparaging if they tried,’ I grumble as I carry on reading, a cold sense of dread settling at the base of my back and slithering up my spine.
We’re wondering how many other kinds of ‘connections’ are being formed in these ‘friendship nights’. In fact, we might send an undercover reporter to the next one and find out exactly what this ‘friendship’ stuff is all about. What do you think, readers? Would you go on a date with a ‘friend’? Seems a bit suspect, if you ask us.
‘It makes it sound seedy and underhanded, like a metaphor for something more.’
‘Maybe they think you’re running a brothel.’
‘Exactly! And now I’ve got to worry about an undercover reporter and whether the next group of people will be genuineor wanting to turn it into something sordid for another article. They’re trying to cast a bad light on something that was meant to do nothing but good.’
‘Marnie, don’t worry about it. The only people they’re making look bad is themselves. You saw how much fun people had the other night. If you look on Twitter, there’s already a comment from Lissa saying she went and it was great fun and she’s made a couple of new friends.’
That gives me a shot of hope and I get out my phone and navigate to the tweet in question and the hope quickly turns into horror. ‘While it’s lovely of Lissa to stick up for us, the only reply she’s got is a wide-eye emoji and a threesome gif! This is terrible!’
In the article, there’s a photo of the friendship form that looks suspiciously like it was taken on my counter. How has someone got that? Is it one of the people who filled it in for the friendship dates? Or has someone been in here, behind my counter, and pulled a blank one out of the stack and photographed it? Who? And why?
Another highlight of the quirky A Tale As Old As Time bookshop is owner Marnie’s benevolent creation of a pay-it-forward board, a chunk of cork on the wall that allows customers to pay any amount of money towards the purchase of a book for someone who needs one. Customers pay their money, pin a tag to the board, and off they go, content in the knowledge that they’ve given something to a stranger, and unsure of whether that stranger will actually need their money or just grab the opportunity to get something for nothing.
There’s also a photo of the pay-it-forward board, and one of me that they’ve pulled from the Ever After Street website. Next to that is a photo of my flyer about the book festival.
Enterprising booklover Marnie’s next venture is organising a book festival on Ever After Street, the imaginatively named Bookishly Ever After, a weekend full of author talks and literary fun, and claiming to have an unmasking of esteemed but secretive author U.N.Known.
‘How do they…?’ I splutter in indignation. ‘That’s not confirmed! I haven’t told a soul that. They can’t print that when it isn’t true. U.N.Known hasn’t agreed to any such thing and there’s no flipping way he will now, is there?’
Cleo pats my hand sympathetically, clearly trying to hide her confusion about how U.N.Known has anything to do with this.
If true, surely the biggest event to rock the publishing industry in years. We’ll be waiting with bated breath. Get your tickets now, folks, and see if this Bookish Cupid can indeed unmask the most anonymous author of our time, all while setting you up with a completely platonic new ‘friend’. We never expected to use the words ‘giant orgy of friendship’, but we expect that’s what you can expect from a visit to A Tale As Old As Time after the sun goes down… We’re not sure we want to know what happens when someone lists their favourite book asFifty Shades of Grey. Anyone brave enough to try it, dear readers?
‘This is horrific. How could they do this? Now I have to worry about undercover reportersandpeople making a mockery of it by listing raunchy books as their favourites and thinking they’re going to get some kind of bookish one-night stand out of it.’
‘All press is good press?’ Cleo grimaces even though she’s trying to sound upbeat.
‘No! Good press is good press, bad press isbadpress, and this is theworstpress! It’s condescending, defamatory, and downright scornful. What on earth am I going to do?’
She’s got halfway through shrugging her shoulders when the phone rings and I pick it up in trepidation. I don’t think anything good is going to come from a phone call afterthat.
‘Hello. Do you take online orders? I’m looking for the Seasons Edition ofAnne of Green Gables. Do you have it in stock?’
I still feel like I’m in a daze as I go to mumble a no, then realise which edition she’s talking about and overcompensate for my initial disillusionment. ‘Yes, I do! It’s got the most gorgeous, autumnal, laser-cut cover, perfect gold lettering, and a matching bookmark.’ Talking books lets me momentarily forget the bad parts of this morning.
‘Let me get my card. How much is postage?’
‘I, um, don’t really take—’
‘Will a fiver cover it?’
I’ve never done online orders. I’ve always thought I’ve got my hands full enough as it is without the extra hassle of having to keep a website updated with stock, and being unable to compete with the mighty internet corporations has made it seem pointless, but that book has been sitting there for an age, it would be stupid to refuse. I enter her card details into the payment system as she speaks and then rifle one-handedly for a padded envelope and address it while she’s on the phone.
As I’m doing that, the bell above the door tinkles and a pair of women come in, giggling to themselves. Cleo greets them but they ignore us and disappear between bookshelves.
‘Thanks, love,’ the woman on the phone says as I pull out tissue paper to wrap her book in. ‘Lovely thing you’re doingthere. I didn’t like the tone of that article at all. I’ll be in touch next time I need an extra-special book.’
I thank her as I hang up, listening to the giggles of the two women who are taking innocuous books and reading random paragraphs but making them sound like lewd innuendos. ‘It is a truth universally acknowledged that a single man in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a…’ one reads aloud while the other one fills in the blank with suggestions far more X-rated than Jane Austen intended.
