Chapter 32
M irren left the house quietly and thoughtfully. She had called June straight away, and June had exclaimed and said, well, she’d be pleased to see it, of course – but that Violet would have wanted Mirren to have it, and she’d never have been any the wiser with Mirren tracking it down. It was Mirren’s, to keep or sell, just as she wanted.
Mirren was so astonished and distracted, she almost didn’t notice two things – firstly, she hadn’t realised that it was New Year’s Eve, and the streets were full of people streaming towards town, fireworks already going off overhead; and secondly, the tall dark-haired figure waiting outside the gate, who startled her.
‘Christ,’ she said. ‘What the hell are you doing here?’
‘I know, I know, I’m so sorry. I’m not stalking you, I promise.’
‘I think you mean stalking me again ...’
‘Turn your Snapchat map off then.’
‘I’ve been really busy,’ confessed Mirren truthfully.
‘Look, I just wanted to—’
He suddenly saw what was sitting, placed carefully, on top of the box so that Mirren didn’t let it out of her sight: the red cover.
‘No way,’ he said.
‘Don’t you dare,’ said Mirren fiercely. ‘Don’t you even think about touching it ... And it’s ... I think it’s kind of mine now.’
‘Oh my God,’ said Theo, longing on his face. ‘Oh my lord.’
Mirren whisked it carefully into her handbag and turned away to leave.
‘Oh, I would have loved to have just seen it ... Anyway, I have to tell you!’
‘What?’
‘I’ve given up work! I chucked the job in! I felt so awful about it, and I’ve been hanging around for too long, just hoping things would get better and I would stop hating it, trying to rip off old people and rifle estate sales. It’s horrid. I spoke to my dad, and he told me he’d been in hock to his brother all his life and it had been a miserable thing. He told me to break free of being a Palliser. This was what I needed.’
‘Are you absolutely sure your uncle didn’t just kick you out?’
Theo smiled. ‘Actually, he didn’t. He rather liked someone working for as little as I did. I’m actually going to be making more in my new job.’
Mirren was still facing away from him. ‘So what are you going to do?’
‘I’m going to work in a real shop,’ said Theo, naming one of the large beautiful central London bookshops. ‘Learn about selling books people love as much as your aunt loved that book. Not to be locked behind glass and handled with white gloves. Books want to live and breathe.’
Mirren smiled. ‘They do,’ she said, clutching her treasure more closely.
‘So, milady,’ he said, bowing low, his dark eyes fixed on her. ‘I apologise for troubling you, and I shall precipitously take my leave.’
‘I understand,’ said Mirren.
‘If the young lady would ever wish to remake my acquaintance ... she knows where I can be called upon.’
Mirren had promised to meet the estate agent and had to leave. She glanced back at Theo one more time, then, completely on impulse, ran up to him and kissed him hard on the lips.
He stared at her, his grin broadening, as she headed off to the estate agent’s.
‘I’ll keep my Snapchat on,’ she shouted. He grinned even wider, and bowed once more, then started hollering something. She had to get a little closer to hear him.
He does not hear; he will not look,
Nor yet be lured out of this book.
For, long ago, the truth to say,
He has grown up and gone away,
And it is but a child of air
That lingers in the garden there.
And he kissed his fingers to her, turned, and disappeared into the London night.
And after a moment, as the fireworks lit the skies overhead, Mirren thought of a life that was nothing but books; of paper, wonderful as it was; of work, and family. Was that enough? Or would she still want more?
‘Kind sir,’ she yelled into the gloom. ‘You would not abandon a lady to the London night.’
And immediately, it seemed, he was there again, his bow low, his arm outstretched, as she smiled, curtsied – and took his hand.