Page 100 of The Cornish Cream Tea Bookshop
‘I think so. As long as you get a good payoff at the end.’
‘Like getting hold of Bryan Mailer. My friend, Pam, and I used to read those Roskilly and Faith mysteries together. We’d take it in turns to be the first to read one, then whoever did would annotate the pages for the other. I can’t believe you’ve tracked him down!’
Ollie’s heart sped up. ‘I’m so glad people are excited.’
‘It sounds like the perfect night. Wine and book chat, and his reading, of course. I love a good reading: if they’ve got a mellow voice and you can lose yourself in the story …’ she sighed. ‘I listen to audio books for that very reason.’
‘They’re really popular now, which can only be a good thing.’
‘You don’t mind everyone downloading books to listen to rather than buying them from your shop?’
‘People won’t ever stop buying physical books, and if audiobooks introduce reluctant readers to the joys of storytelling, then I can’t be mad with it.’ She grinned. ‘Let meget those Jack Reachers off the shelf for you. Will you be OK carrying them? Seventeen books is a lot.’
‘My two grandsons are in the YA section picking something out. I’ve bribed them with another Christmas Eve Eve present, so they’ll help me carry the books to my car.’
Ollie laughed. ‘You’ve got it all figured out.’
She tapped her tote bag. ‘You have to be prepared, especially in the run-up to Christmas. I was cursing Amazon before, but now, thanks to you, I’ve got a much better plan.’
‘Glad I could help,’ Ollie called, as she walked over to the Crime and Thriller section.
As the afternoon slipped into evening, the Christmas lights took over. They were wound around the banisters, all the way to the top floor, draped along the windowsills and curled along the top of the till. With all Becky’s added tinsel, it made the bookshop seem like the inside of a glitter ball.
None of them had managed much of a break, but Ollie could tell that Thea and Becky were as excited about the evening as she was, adrenaline powering them through. At six o’clock, after the last customer had left, they shut the doors for half an hour, so they had a chance to get everything ready.
‘I told Liam to come in the back door, in case there’s anyone outside,’ Thea said. The back door, she had told Ollie, was part of the renovation that had turned the Old Post House into A New Chapter. Thea hadn’t wanted anyone getting stuck inside if something happened to block the front exit.
Ollie got the wine out of the storeroom and fridge, while Becky arranged the copies of Bryan Mailer’s mysteries thathad arrived from AbeBooks on a circular table close to the till.
‘The chairs are all laid out,’ Thea called, hurrying down the stairs. ‘I think we’re mostly there.’
‘Now all we need is Liam,’ Ollie said.
‘And a quick change of clothes,’ Becky added. They had all brought outfits to change into, and now they did, one by one, in the bathroom at the back of the shop. Ollie’s dress was midnight blue with tiny gold suns on it, and looked festive even though the design wasn’t, the metallic shimmer picking out the blonde streaks in her hair.
‘Gorgeous,’ Thea said, when they’d all reassembled. Her dress was dark red, flatteringly cut, and Becky was in a simple black dress that she’d paired with silver jewellery and heels.
‘Ready to do this?’ Ollie asked.
Thea nodded. ‘All we need is our special guest, and we’ll be good to go.’ They exchanged nervous smiles, and Ollie noticed that people had started to gather outside. Now, after everything, the moment there was nothing they could do to change the course of the evening, the nerves started to flutter.
Chapter Forty-Two
‘Getting through Port Karadow right now is a nightmare,’ Liam said, when he arrived five minutes later to heavy sighs and relieved grins. ‘Have you seen how busy it is out there?’
‘Uh, Liam, that’s sort of the point.’ Ollie put herself between him and the front of the shop, glad there were bookshelves blocking the view of the glass-panelled door. ‘Pageant time, lots of people.’
His brows lowered. ‘I haven’t done anything like this.’
‘But you’ve told me legends,’ Ollie said. ‘You had me hanging on your words, desperate to find out what happened next. You’re going to be wonderful. And I’m here – we’re all here, supporting you. If you freeze then I’ll step in, but I’m sure I won’t need to. Now, hood on. We need to get you upstairs, then you can have a glass of wine in the back room while we let the guests in.’
‘When Ollie says back room,’ Thea added, ‘she means storeroom. But there’s a box you can sit on.’
‘I should have asked for a rider,’ Liam muttered, as he pulled his hood over his head and Ollie made him stoop, then the three women stood around him, walking him to the front of the shop and up the stairs, ensuring he was hidden from view of anyone peering in the windows. They were like some kind of weird human insect, Ollie thought, but not the human centipede: that was a whole other ball game.
With Liam safely settled on his box in the storeroom, a glass of wine in his hand, Becky went downstairs and opened the door, letting in a stream of eager people. They were fresh from the delights of the pageant, smelling of sugar and fried onions, cheeks flushed from the cold and the beer served at the mobile bar down by the harbour.
As Ollie took up her place behind the wine table, she heard snippets of conversation: speculation about how they had tracked down Bryan Mailer; people listing all the books they were going to buy to finish their Christmas shopping; comments about Sophia Forsythe-Hartley and her rudeness. Ollie didn’t want anyone thinking the worst of Sophia, so she made a mental note to fully exonerate her in her opening salvo.
