Chapter 6
Kazz always slept well when she was in Tanglewood. She put it down to not having a bunch of flatmates making going-to-work noises at six in the morning, when she’d only been in bed for about five hours. She was an eight-hour-a-night girl – any less than that and she was as grumpy as old Mrs George on a bad day. Mrs George was the little old lady who frequented the tea shop on a regular basis and with whom Betty had the occasional spat. Kazz had only met her once, but the woman’s sheer grumpiness had made an impression.
The bungalow was quiet, although she could hear the rumble of an engine outside and a horse making the whickering noise that Stevie had told her meant hello in horse-speak.
Kazz stretched luxuriously, feeling slightly guilty that Stevie had let her sleep in. Although today was Sunday, last night Stevie had said she was popping into the tea shop this morning, having muttered something about a Christmas festival meeting she was hosting, and told Kazz to relax and enjoy herself.
Those had been Stevie’s last words to her before she’d gone to bed. Along with the parting shot of, ‘I’m so excited! You’re going to open a bookshop in Tanglewood!’
Kazz, in the cold light of day, definitely was not going to open a bookshop. Not in Tanglewood, nor anywhere else. It was the most ridiculous idea she’d ever heard. She didn’t know anything about running a business, and although she’d spent a considerable chunk of her childhood in Grandad’s old shop, she didn’t know that much about books, especially old ones. And she had a feeling a love of reading didn’t count.
Looking at it logically, her love of reading would probably be more of a hindrance than a help, because any book knowledge she had was of relatively recent publications; and by recent, she meant within the last twenty years or so, apart from childhood favourites like Noddy Goes to Toyland and the Kipper books. And although she had read a few of the classics, such as Jane Eyre and Wuthering Heights , in her time, she wasn’t sure those counted either. Because nearly all of the books she could remember seeing in her grandad’s house were obscure non-fiction titles and mostly well out of date. The fiction ones tended to be similar to the book of fairy stories she had decided to keep for herself. Few bookshops like the one her grandfather had owned existed anymore. The ones she frequented had current bestsellers, alongside arabica beans and slices of red velvet cake, and the fiction books were often literary-acclaimed titles and the non-fiction were shiny, glossy and enticing.
Kazz couldn’t say the same for her books. They were old and musty, and although their smell reminded her of her grandfather, she didn’t think many people would appreciate it.
Shelving the bookshop idea (she giggled aloud at her mental play on words), Kazz had a quick shower, dressed and then wandered into the kitchen in search of breakfast.
She was touched to discover that Stevie had left a loaf of home-baked bread out for her, plus eggs, jam, honey and fruit, with a note telling her there was bacon and yoghurt in the fridge and she was to help herself.
After a hearty breakfast, Kazz was debating what she should do with herself until Stevie returned, when she heard the front door open and Tia’s voice call, ‘Hello! Anyone home? Nick? Stevie?’
Kazz hurried towards her, wondering whether she should offer to help, but at the same time aware of how fiercely independent Tia was and that she had also lived in this bungalow for several years before she married Will and moved into the manor.
‘Just me, I’m afraid. Nick’s out with the horses and Stevie is at the tea shop – something about a Christmas festival meeting?’ Kazz said.
‘Ah, yes, that.’ Tia’s tone was wry. ‘How could I have forgotten? It’s all Julia – Will’s mother – can talk about. She does enjoy meddling. I pity Stevie, with Julia and Betty in the same room, because Betty has very definite ideas about this festival, as does Julia. Anyway, it’s you I’ve come to see.’ Tia held up her hand. She was holding a set of keys aloft and she rattled them. ‘Look what I’ve got,’ she sang.
‘Um… keys?’
‘Can you guess what they’re for?’
‘To unlock something?’
Tia narrowed her eyes. ‘There aren’t any flies on you, are there? Don’t you want to know what they are the keys to?’
‘Only if you want to tell me.’
‘You’re not making this easy.’ Tia turned the wheelchair around in a nifty manoeuvre. ‘Come on, what are you waiting for?’
‘Where are we going?’
‘You’ll see. You’ll need your coat. It’s bloody freezing out there.’
Kazz fetched her coat, grabbed a scarf and a hat for good measure, and followed Tia.
Tia’s husband was outside, waiting by the car. ‘Don’t mind Will, he’s only here for his muscles,’ Tia said, as he lifted her into the passenger seat.
Bemused, Kazz got in while Will loaded the wheelchair into the back.
‘Do you know where we’re going?’ she asked him, when he got behind the wheel.
‘The village,’ he said.
‘Why?’
‘You’ll have to ask Tia.’
Kazz clearly wasn’t getting anywhere, so she sat back to enjoy the short drive into Tanglewood.
A few minutes later, Will eased into the car park off the main street. ‘Call me when you’re done,’ he told Tia, after he had helped her out and back into the chair, and as she wheeled herself away, she gave him a cheery wave.
Kazz fell into step beside her and huddled into her coat. A keen wind blew across the river and there was a hint of rain in the air.
As they crossed the road, Kazz could see lights on in Peggy’s Tea Shoppe and there were several people inside. She wondered if that was where they were headed, but Tia rolled straight past.
When Tia came to a halt outside an empty shop, she said, ‘You can do the honours,’ and held out the bunch of keys.
Kazz looked at them, then at Tia. ‘I don’t understand.’
Tia pressed her lips together and shook her head sadly. ‘I do worry about you sometimes. Your bookshop ? Remember? We spent ages talking about it last night.’
‘But I wasn’t serious. Not really,’ Kazz objected.
‘For pity’s sake, go inside, will you?’
Kazz took the keys from her, and with a bit of fiddling to find the right one, she unlocked the door. A loud beeping blasted her ears.
‘The alarm is on the wall,’ Tia instructed, giving her the code.
Kazz hurriedly punched it in, and blessed silence descended.
‘At least you know your books will be safe.’ Tia laughed.
‘Hmm.’ Kazz wasn’t sure how to respond, considering she didn’t have any intention of opening a bookshop. It was a lovely idea, but it simply wasn’t feasible.
‘What do you think?’ Tia’s gaze roamed around the shop’s interior.
The room was completely bare, stripped of anything that might have given Kazz a clue as to its original use. ‘It’s… um…’
‘Perfect!’ Tia clapped her hands. ‘That’s what it is: perfect.’
‘You think?’ Kazz’s tone was full of scepticism. She eyed the bare walls and grubby windows doubtfully.
‘A good clean, a lick of paint, and it will be good to go.’
‘It most certainly will be,’ Betty announced, stepping over the threshold, closely followed by Stevie, Leanne and Edie.
Betty said, ‘We had just finished our meeting when we saw you go past.’ She beamed widely, her face a mass of wrinkles as she crowed, ‘See, I told you opening a bookshop was a good idea.’
‘It seriously isn’t,’ Kazz replied.
Stevie raised her eyebrows. ‘You were all for it last night.’
‘That was last night. I’d had a couple of glasses of wine.’ Kazz strolled across the empty shop, her booted feet clumping on the floorboards. They reminded her of the wooden floors in her grandad’s house, which Nan had covered with threadbare wool rugs. Kazz assumed they hadn’t been threadbare when Nan had first laid them, but the worn bits were now ghostly evidence of countless footsteps.
A picture of the large rug in the main bedroom popped into Kazz’s head, and she imagined how it would look in the centre of this room, with the two wingback chairs from the living room, and shelves filled with books along three of the walls.
A door at the far end caught her attention and she popped her head around it to discover that it contained a small storeroom and another door, behind which was a loo and a wash-hand basin.
When she walked back into the main part of the shop, her friends and Betty were in a huddle, whispering, but they quickly leapt apart when they saw her.
‘Well?’ Betty demanded. The others were staring at her hopefully.
‘Why are you lot trying to bulldoze me into opening a bookshop?’ Kazz asked, after a pause.
Stevie replied, ‘Because you’re not happy. Because you’re at a crossroads. Because if you don’t do it now, you’ll regret it.’
Kazz wrinkled her nose. ‘Let’s say for argument’s sake that I go along with this mad idea—’ She glared at Betty, who had clapped and cried, ‘Yes!’
Betty subsided and Kazz carried on, ‘I can’t afford it.’
The others exchanged glances. Betty held up her hands and backed away, shaking her head. ‘That’s for you lot to sort out,’ she muttered, ‘I’m just the ideas man.’
Stevie drew in a breath. ‘You can afford it,’ she said. ‘Tia, tell her.’
‘This place belongs to a friend of my father-in-law. He’s been renting it out for years. It was recently a stationery business but when it folded—’
‘People don’t write letters anymore,’ Betty piped up. ‘It’s all digital free-mailing and stuff, nowadays. I don’t think you youngsters know what biros are. And don’t get me started on fountain pens.’
Kazz had no intention of getting Betty started on anything.
Tia took up the baton once more. ‘The owner hasn’t had any luck letting it out since the stationery business closed, so I asked Edgar if he could ask him whether he would consider a short-term lease of a couple of months, and he jumped at it. Will picked up the keys for me this morning, and here we are.’
‘I still can’t afford it,’ Kazz said.
‘You can. The rent is peanuts. Honestly.’
Tia’s version of peanuts probably wasn’t Kazz’s, considering the woman had a whole wing of a mansion all to herself and her husband, but when Tia told her the figure, Kazz was surprised. It did sound incredibly reasonable. Then a thought struck her. ‘Is that per week, or per month?’
‘For the whole two months,’ Tia replied with a grin. ‘Not bad, is it?’
Kazz’s eyes bulged. Not bad? It was bloody brilliant. You couldn’t rent a park bench in London for that! Her mouth was dry and she swallowed nervously. Her heart was thumping and excitement fizzed along her veins. Maybe this idiotic idea wasn’t so idiotic after all…?
Trying not to show her excitement, because she didn’t want the others to sweep her away with their enthusiasm before she’d had the chance to think it through properly, she said, ‘What if I don’t sell any books?’
‘What if you do ?’ Edie countered. ‘There isn’t what I would call a proper bookshop for miles.’
‘This wouldn’t be a “proper” bookshop,’ Kazz explained. ‘It wouldn’t be selling the latest Lucy Score or Felix Francis novel. The books I’ve got are old and musty.’
Leanne asked, ‘Have you been to Hay-on-Wye?’
Kazz stared blankly at her, confused at the change of subject. ‘No, should I have?’
‘The Hay Festival?’ Edie prompted.
‘Oh, yes, I’ve heard of that,’ Kazz said. ‘It’s a literary festival.’
‘That’s right, but Hay isn’t just renowned for its festival. It’s a town famous for its second-hand bookshops. There are over twenty of them, I believe. You should go take a look.’
‘But my bookshop would be in Tanglewood, not Hay-on-Wye. Wherever that is.’
‘It’s roughly twenty miles away, but that’s not the point,’ Leanne said. ‘What I’m trying to say is that there is a call around these parts for old books. People are used to coming to the Welsh Marches and seeing artisan shops, quaint pubs and second-hand bookshops. Anyway, what have you got to lose?’
Leanne was right, Kazz didn’t have anything to lose. It wasn’t as though she would be packing in a job to do this or giving up her flat to move halfway across the country.
But what she would be doing was delaying the inevitable. Whether the bookshop made any money or not, the lease would only be a short-term one, and then she would have to start looking for a job, but with the added problem of not having anywhere to live. It hardly seemed worth the effort. She might as well bite the bullet, hire a skip and get rid of the lot and be done with it.
‘I bet your grandad would turn in his grave if you threw them away,’ Betty said, into the silence.
‘Excuse me?’ Kazz blinked at the old lady in astonishment. Had Betty read her mind?
‘You heard. Them books were his life’s work. You can’t simply give them away or chuck them out, not when you’ve got an alternative.’
Kazz was speechless. She had already begun to feel as though her friends were ganging up on her, and now Betty was resorting to emotional blackmail.
Stevie moved closer and gave her a hug. ‘It’s up to you, Kazz, of course it is, but you haven’t been happy for a while. You’ve got an opportunity to try something new, so why don’t you take it? If you don’t, you’ll be spending the rest of your life wondering what if. Look at me – I took a leap of faith and I’ve never been happier.’
Kazz bit her lip. It would be a very big leap, but maybe she could do it? And Betty was right: Grandad would be appalled at the thought of her discarding his book collection like rubbish.
Hoping she wasn’t about to make the biggest mistake of her life, Kazz took a deep breath and announced, ‘I’m going to do it. I’m going to open a bookshop in Tanglewood. And if I fall flat on my face, I’m going to blame you lot.’
‘You won’t,’ Betty said confidently. ‘This will be a whole new chapter in the story of your life.’
Ignoring the cheesy bookish pun, Kazz prayed the old lady was right.