Chapter 3
3
‘How many times do I have to tell you, Nancy? Don’t feed the pesky seagulls.’
Mum slammed the door behind her as she walked into Books In The Bay. Looks like that was the end of my peaceful reading hour.
‘They’re vermin and you’ll never get rid of them. Blooming scavengers.’
‘It’s only a bit of bread, Mum. They’ll go and find someone else to feed them tomorrow.’
‘That’s what you said yesterday. And the day before. And…’ Mum rolled her eyes but smiled at the same time.
‘It’s a shame for them if they’re hungry. No one else feeds them.’
‘There’s a reason for that, as well you know, daughter dear.’
Mum had always tolerated my love of nature with good humour. Whether it’s squirrels on our fence, sparrows in the garden, or seagulls in the bay, we all need to eat to survive and sometimes a kind human leaving a little food out for them gave them a little helping hand along the way.
She reached down and gave me a peck on the cheek.
‘What are you reading?’
‘ The Great Gatsby .’
‘Again?’
‘Yeah, but it’s a new embossed hardback with shiny sprayed edges.’
‘Nice. Does that mean it’s a different story?’ She ruffled my hair and I shrugged away from her. She’d be licking her hanky and wiping my face in a minute. Sometimes I thought she forgot that I was twenty-seven years old.
‘I don’t know why you don’t stop in bed an hour longer and read rather than come in here. Especially at this time of year now the days are drawing in.’
This was the first autumn in my little bookshop and I was so looking forward to it along with the winter ahead. Gone were the sky blue, pastel pink and mint-coloured cushions on the brown leather wingback armchairs in the window, along with similar tones of bunting around the windows. They had been replaced with rust, olive and plum-coloured accessories, with ivory sheepskin rugs and fairy lights galore giving a cosy, magical air about the place. My brother Dan called me a saddo the other day when he came in and I was arranging the books in colour order, said I clearly had way too much time on my hands. I’d laughed at the time, but it was important for me to get the ambience right. To have somewhere that people wanted to come to, to hang out, while browsing for their latest read.
Mum stood next to me in the low fronted bow window which overlooked Driftwood Bay, the gorgeous little seaside village that I was lucky enough to live in. The beach was empty apart from one lone person, strolling along the water’s edge.
‘I do know why you come here, darling. It’s stunning. Both outside and in.’
I glanced around like I did every morning, my heart swelling with pride and joy. This was all mine and I still had to pinch myself when I walked through the door each day. This was the first September in a few years when I wasn’t returning to school after the holidays, wondering what the term ahead had in store for this art teacher. In May this year, my dream of owning a bookshop had come to fruition, thanks to my dear Aunty Theresa leaving me a wad of inheritance that came out of the blue. I would rather her be here now, and would swap my dream for that in a heartbeat, but sadly her illness had other ideas. Mum had been, and still was, devastated at the loss of her best friend and missed her desperately. At first, I didn’t want to spend Theresa’s money but Mum insisted it would have been what she’d wanted and if she could have been here today, she’d be taking pride of place in one of those window seats and very probably bossing us all around.
‘Is that Dennis out there, Nancy?’
I lifted my hand to shade my eyes from the sun and peered out.
‘Mmm, yes I think so.’
‘Oh, Vi never shuts up about her grandson. She totally dotes on him. A right bobby-dazzler, she calls him. I do like him though. He’s proper handsome and a real charmer with it too.’
‘Yeah, I thought that too, Mum, until he came in here telling me what I should and shouldn’t do with the shop. He came to help me a couple of times to shift some boxes in the summer, but he’s a bit of a know-all. Not the type of person I like to spend time with.’
Mum pulled a strange face and rolled her eyes at me.
‘You are a funny one, Nancy. Nice dress, darling. Is it new?’
‘Oh, come on, Mum. When was the last time you saw me buy something that was new?’
‘Good point. New to you then, I mean.’
‘Yep, I bought it from a new app that sells vintage clothes.’
‘You do know that you can buy new clothes, don’t you? You don’t have to buy second-hand all the time.’
‘Pre-loved I like to call them. And it’s better for the environment than buying new all the time. You know that, even if it’s not something that bothers you.’
‘It does bother me; I just prefer to buy something that I know someone hasn’t died in. Or worse, come to think of it.’
‘What could be worse than dying in something?’
‘I don’t know. Had an accident in maybe?’ She screwed up her face. ‘Just imagine.’
‘I’d rather not but they’ve all been laundered.’
‘Still.’ She shuddered. ‘Not for me.’
‘But you know that the environment would be?—’
‘Coffee, darling?’
I sighed knowing that she was interrupting me to shut me up. She had a tendency to do this when I wittered on about how we could all do our little bit to help the world be a more environmentally friendly place.
‘Yes, please, Mum.’
It wasn’t that she wasn’t interested in yet another lecture from me about recycling and sustainability, it was more that she’d heard it all before. Many times. I placed the bookmark I’d been holding inside my book to keep my page and closed it, before moving over to the other side of the room and tucking it under the counter. Clem, a handyman from the village, had designed the shop so that everything that could, faced the window, so we were making the most of the spectacular view. Both the counter and the bookshelves had been made from reclaimed timber because he knew how important recycling was to me and I’d been delighted when he showed me his plans and even more enamoured when they were put into place. His partner Meredith had a real eye for interior design and gave me some fabulous advice about decor and upholstery and I don’t mind admitting I had a little cry when I saw it all come together. We’d made sure we’d chosen environmentally friendly paints for the walls and the chairs had been re-covered in material made from recyclable plastic. It really was quite amazing what you could get hold of these days, if you shopped around.
I stood behind the counter now and just had a little moment where I thanked my lucky stars, and my Aunty Theresa, proud as punch of my little empire.
On the shelving unit to the left of the counter there was a display of candles and I took a moment or two to choose one which I felt was suitable for the day ahead.
Mum brought two steaming mugs through and smiled at me.
‘You could just choose the first one you look at, you know.’
‘I could, but where’s the fun in that?’
‘You do make me smile. I was watching you from the kitchen. Turning them over to read the names, then having a sniff. Some go back on the shelf and some make it to the next round before you go through it all over again. You’re such a creature of habit, my little cherub.’
‘If I must put up with the smell all day, it needs to be something I like. Couldn’t bear it if it was something awful that stinks out the whole shop.’
‘What’s today’s stink of choice then?’
‘Pumpkin spice. Here you go.’ She sniffed the one I passed her and wrinkled her nose.
‘Nice. Shall I go and turn the sign round then?’
‘No, you’re OK, Mum, thanks. I’ll do it.’
Turning the sign round on my very own bookshop, from closed to open, and putting the door on the latch, was one of my favourite times of the day.