Page 18 of The Secret Christmas Bookshop
Even in winter, Mistingham was beautiful, and as Sophie headed inland she found herself smiling at the dinky cottages and elegant town houses, some adorned with Christmas wreaths already, others with trailing winter jasmines or cyclamen in pots, small stone sculptures decorating front gardens. It was a place where people took pride in their homes, where they felt privileged to live. There were some properties with unlit windows and little personalization, a couple of streets that were mostly second homes, but Sophie tended to avoid those.
She was turning onto Perpendicular Street, wondering how many people she’d have to dodge along the edge of the green, when someone appeared right in front of her. She veered away at the last minute, the soft sludge of the damp, grass-covered mud helping to slow her pace.
‘Yikes!’ A hand grabbed her arm and she was steadied just before she fell.
Sophie tried to catch her breath. ‘May,’ she puffed out. ‘H-hello. I’m so sorry – and thank you – that was a quick reaction.’
‘Are you OK?’ May asked, as Sophie bent over, putting her good hand on her knee.
‘I’m fine. I must have been going faster than I thought.’
‘Certainly faster than I could manage,’ May said. ‘What are you doing now?’
‘Sweating,’ Sophie said. ‘Panting. Thinking about a long, hot shower.’ Her cheeks felt raw, windburned, in contrast to the rest of her overheated body.
‘What are you doing in two hours?’
‘I have the day off,’ she said, glancing at her watch. She didn’t add that she was trying to work up the courage tospeak to Harry, to follow up on her dismissiveI’ll be in touchthe day before. If they didn’t get together soon, then the Christmas festival would be a paltry singsong comprised of two people – and possibly Harry’s goat – along with some fish and chips from Batter Days.
‘Do you want to grab a coffee in the hotel?’ May asked. ‘We could have one of their famous cakes.’
Sophie only thought for a second. ‘That sounds great. And two hours should give me long enough to make myself presentable.’
‘Wonderful.’ May’s smile was warm. ‘The perks of working for yourself.’
‘I thought you worked for the entire village,’ Sophie said. ‘Aren’t you on call twenty-four-seven, sorting out everyone’s technical problems?’
‘It does feel like that sometimes,’ May admitted with a laugh. ‘Catch you in a bit.’
Sophie nodded, then willed herself to find a final burst of energy and headed for home at a slow jog.
Mistingham Hotel’s lounge managed to be both comfortingly traditional and modern enough to feel classy, the floral patterns of the curtains and cushion covers delicate rather than gaudy, a soft, pistachio-green carpet, and elegant crystal chandeliers hanging from the high ceiling. Its wide windows looked out on the village green, the oak tree and, beyond, thin slivers of the sea in the gaps between buildings.
When Sophie arrived, May was already at a round table in the window. It was covered with a cream cloth, and a bud vase with a pink rose sat in the centre. The room smelt faintly of sugar, making Sophie’s stomach rumbleas she made her way over, taking the seat opposite the other woman.
‘Hello.’
‘You made it!’ May was wearing an indigo jumper, the sleeves falling over her hands, and her straight dark hair was pulled back in a ponytail. Her features were a lot more delicate than Sophie’s, almost elfin. If she didn’t already know, Sophie would never in a million years have guessed she was a tech wizard, with a brief spell in Silicon Valley behind her.
‘I don’t know what you fancy.’ May pointed to the menu printed on thick, cream card. ‘But I’d like one of everything, and I haven’t been on a run.’
‘I’m going for the chocolate eclair,’ Sophie said, after a brief glance at the menu.
May laughed. ‘That was quick.’
‘I’ve seen people eating them, from outside.’
‘But you haven’t had one before?’
‘Not yet,’ Sophie said, which felt silly because she’d been here for nearly a year. ‘I just haven’t got around to it.’
A young man in a white shirt and black pressed trousers took their order, then disappeared as quietly as he’d arrived. Sophie had imagined the lounge would be full of pensioners meeting up for crosswords and gossip, but the customers were a lot more varied than she’d expected. Some were clearly retired, but others looked like they were here on a winter break or conducting low-key business meetings.
‘It’s lovely here,’ she said.
‘It’s a good place to escape to, when you want to get away from your desk,’ May said, ‘or your shop counter. I imagine it’s fun, working with Fiona.’
‘Oh it is,’ Sophie said. ‘She’s generous, easy to talk to, and she knows everything that goes on in Mistingham.’
