Chapter 48
Alfie Lane
Book Lane
London
Dear Alfie Lane,
As your landlord I am writing to inform you that I have made the decision to sell 12 Hill Crescent.
The building consists of a top floor two-bedroom flat and the shop premises currently home to Book Lane.
As you may be aware, the tenants in the flat recently vacated, which means I am hoping for a smooth and swift sale.
As the long-term tenant of the shop premises I am contacting you first in case you wish to purchase the building.
I will give you until the end of November to think things through, as I plan to have the property on the market by January.
Please do be in touch if you are interested. And if not, thank you to both yourself and your late father for being excellent tenants. But I am approaching retirement and wish to free up some capital to facilitate a move abroad. I hope you understand.
Best wishes,
Raymond Evans
So that’s it, then. Alfie stares at the letter in his hands, feeling as if time has slowed.
He is painfully aware of the smells around him – new books, coffee beans, Prudence’s floral perfume and Georgette’s fur – and of the harmonious hum of customers browsing quietly, Blue whistling to herself as she strings a plethora of vibrant paper chains in the window.
‘Is everything all right?’ says Prudence, pausing as she shelves new titles in the gift book section, and placing a hand on Alfie’s arm.
‘Yeah, you don’t look great, Alf,’ says Blue, turning in his direction and nearly knocking over a stack of detective novels piled in the window.
Christmas always starts early in the bookshop and it is already feeling festive, with twinkling lights strung about and jazzy versions of Christmas classics playing softly in the background.
It’s the most important time of year for the shop, and Alfie has been hoping for a busy November and December to carry them through to the new year.
Limping, maybe, but still going. But everything has changed now.
The door opens and Tilly steps inside, her signature rainbow scarf wrapped tightly around her neck and chin, a green bobble hat pulled over her ears. Her cheeks are flushed and glow even brighter when her eyes meet Alfie’s across the shop floor.
They haven’t seen each other since Borough Market, although Tilly sent him a photo of herself, sweaty and dishevelled, and with a medal hanging around her neck.
Seeing her proudly beaming face did something to his throat, making it tighten as if he were experiencing a mild allergic reaction.
More than anything he wanted to reach into the phone and squeeze her, but he couldn’t – not just because that isn’t how photographs work, but because he still vividly remembered the way she stepped away from him.
The look on her face had made Alfie feel as though he’d betrayed her somehow, something he hasn’t been able to forgive himself for.
He thinks back over the past few months – chatting together after the book club, cooking for her, walking alongside the Thames …
Would any of that have happened if she knew he was single?
The thought that he has unintentionally tricked her fills him with shame.
But hidden beneath it is the memory of that moment when they stood pressed together in the middle of the heaving market, just the two of them, his arms around her, her eyes fixed on his and her expression softened with something that felt … real.
‘Tilly!’ says Prudence brightly. ‘It’s lovely to see you. So, November – just two more books to go. How are you feeling?’
‘I’m OK,’ she says slowly, flashing Alfie a look. ‘Just keen to see what Joe has chosen this month.’
Once Tilly receives her final book, she’ll have no reason to keep coming to the bookshop.
One tiny mercy about the shop closing is the fact that Alfie won’t have to keep looking at the door, searching for a flash of red hair.
Without saying anything he turns to the collection shelf, reaching for two neatly wrapped parcels.
‘What’s this?’ Tilly says with a frown as he holds them both out to her.
‘These are the rest of your books. November and December. It’s probably safest to take them both now.’ He takes a breath. ‘The truth is, I’m not quite sure how much longer Book Lane is going to be here.’
Tilly looks startled, her lips parting.
‘What do you mean?’ says Prudence, Blue leaping up to join them too.
‘Yeah, what’s going on, Alf? And why haven’t you said anything sooner?’
As they gather around, Alfie shows them the letter, Tilly leaning in close to read too. He tries to ignore the feel of her shoulder pressed up against him or the aroma of her crisp apple and vanilla smell.
‘Things haven’t been great for a while. Everything has got more expensive – rent, bills … I’ve been trying my best to keep things going, but this is the final nail in the coffin. There’s no way I can afford to buy the building.’
‘Oh, Alfie,’ says Prudence, shaking her head sadly. ‘You should have told us.’
‘I’ll keep paying your wages right up until we have to close. And I’ll give you both brilliant references and do whatever I can to help you find new jobs –’
‘Alfie, stop,’ interrupts Blue, placing the letter down on the counter and covering his hand with hers. ‘That’s not what we care about. We’re just sorry you’ve been carrying this by yourself.’
Tilly has been watching the exchange, her eyebrows knitted together and her pale pink lips pressed in a firm line. ‘What can I do to help?’ she says now, her eyes meeting Alfie’s.
Looking at her, it all hits him – the weight of everything he is set to lose.
‘Thanks, but there’s nothing you can do.’
‘Don’t be silly, there’s always something to be done,’ says Prudence.
Blue nods firmly beside her.
‘Prudence is right. I’m going to set up a crowdfunder. I’m sure people will want to help out when they hear our story. And Tilly, anything you can do to help spread the word would be amazing.’
‘Of course,’ says Tilly. ‘I’ll do whatever I can.’
Her green eyes flash as they linger unwaveringly on his, a spark of determination and maybe something else sparkling there making his chest flutter.
‘We’re not going down without a fight,’ says Prudence, hands firmly on her hips, feet planted wide as if she’s preparing for battle.
And nothing has really changed; the building is still up for sale, and he still might have accidentally hurt someone he cares about more than he’ll admit.
But seeing the way Tilly nods determinedly, and feeling the weight of Prudence’s steadying touch on his shoulder, Alfie senses a tingling of hope.
When Tilly arrives home, she spreads out all of the books she has received so far on the coffee table, including her November book, still wrapped in brown paper. She refused to leave the shop with December’s, insisting she’ll be back next month to collect it.
She runs her hand over the covers of them all, thinking about how each book has helped her, whether inspiring her, consoling her or simply making her laugh.
She takes photos of them all and then gathers the pile into her lap and turns her phone camera to face her.
Before she can allow herself time to overthink what she is going to say, she hits record.
‘Hi there,’ she says, giving a nervous little wave.
‘I’ll be honest, I’m more of a lurker on social media normally.
You’ll see I haven’t posted anything in a long time.
But I wanted to hop on here to share something important with all you …
one hundred followers. Some of you might know this but some of you might not: my husband Joe died last year.
It’s been a really awful time, which any of you who have lost someone close to you will know.
But what I want to talk to you about isn’t how horrible it has been but about something magical that happened six months after he died.
You see, I received a mysterious phone call from my local bookshop, Book Lane. ’
She thinks back to hearing Alfie’s gruff voice on the phone for the first time, how confused and disorientated she’d felt to hear Joe’s name from the mouth of a stranger.
‘It turns out that my local bookshop helped my husband to organize a special gift for me before he died. A year of books. One book a month, each book with a personal significance and a special meaning. These are those books.’ She holds up the stack of colourful spines.
‘Or at least, most of them. The year isn’t over yet.
But so far, the books have taught me new things, sent me off on adventures I never anticipated and held my hand through the toughest time in my life.
I am certain that it must have brought Joe comfort to know that, after he was gone, I wouldn’t be on my own, that I’d have these books for company. ’
Her voice falters and for a moment she isn’t sure she can keep going. But she catches hold of herself, smiles softly and says, ‘But it hasn’t just been the books that have been there for me. My local bookshop has become a … a safe harbour.’
Because despite the recent tension between her and Alfie, when he told her that the shop was at risk of closure it felt like the ground shifted beneath her feet.
She couldn’t imagine not coming into the shop every month.
Not seeing Prudence, Blue and Georgette, not seeing the seasons change through the altered window displays, not finding herself, again and again, among the shelves of books.
Not seeing Alfie. She realized she’d been taking for granted the fact that Book Lane would always be there when she needed it.
‘Sadly, my local bookshop is under threat of closure. It would mean a lot if you could check out their crowdfunder. If you are local, pop in to browse, or if you’re further afield consider ordering online.
Bookshops aren’t just bookshops. They’re places for book lovers to come together, like-minded souls meeting among the stacks.
They’re hubs of the community, and the arena for heated conversations about the latest must-read series.
They’re safe places to step in out of the rain, no matter who you are.
And they need our support, now more than ever. ’
She stops the recording, her hands shaking as she posts it to social media, tagging the Book Lane account.
A few moments later she receives a message from Alfie.
THANK YOU.