Chapter Twenty-Nine
Flying
Annie stretched out her legs and snuggled into Harri’s side. The seatbelt sign had gone off and the cabin crew was just about to make the rounds with the first coffees after take-off.
Harri was going to accept a cup and even though he knew it would be a crappy cup of airplane instant, he was going to write in his notes app that it was the best damn coffee he’d tasted in his life, he was so profoundly happy.
Annie was already reading, engrossed in her novel. Harri held her close and placed a kiss on the top of her head, watching the white fluffy clouds as they sped by.
He smiled to himself at the memory of that last two hours in Clove Lore this morning; the way they’d run and skidded and screeched all the way down to the Siren, scaring the living daylights out of Kit who was cooking the breakfasts for the Valentine weekenders staying over at the pub.
They’d found William awake and in his overcoat waiting solemnly for the local authority car coming to take him to the flat in Yelverton, miles from Castle Lore and all of his treasured memories.
There’d been a lot of excitement, so much so William had to comfort Annie as she cried. It had taken a while for the discovery to sink in. William’s old friend had wanted to reward his years of devotion and companionship. Even when Sir Nicholas, had been wracked with pain and growing thinner and weaker by the day, he’d made sure there was something in writing to protect his friend.
‘But why didn’t he tell anyone? Why didn’t he tell you?’ Harri wanted to know, returning the Tennyson to its rightful owner at the same time.
William had only smiled tearfully. The truth was William would have refused his friend’s gift, telling him his friendship had been enough for him, that knowing him and being known was worth the pain of losing him in the end, of losing everything; something that their favourite poet knew more than a little about himself.
Bella had rung for a solicitor friend to come down to the pub, and she made sure to tell Social Services when the car came that Mr Sabine found he no longer required the flat in Yelverton, that he was, in fact, staying right here with his friends until this was all sorted out.
Minty had turned up – as though somehow she’d felt a disturbance in the Clove Lore air and been supernaturally summoned – and once she was availed of all the facts, took it upon herself to ring the Clove Lore Holiday Park to let them know there was a spanner in the works with their purchase of the castle.
William, however, had been clear. If he was to inherit the crumbling old place, he’d be glad to sell it so that the grounds might be filled for once with families and children and noise and laughter, all of the things he would have wished for his beloved friend Nicholas, had he been able to stand the clamour and chaos of other people and the wider world.
William had pulled the heavy old key from his breast pocket and asked Minty for yet one more favour. He would like to visit his old home, just for a short while.
She had set about activating the Clove Lore phone network, telling the whole village that today was the day they would get a look at the castle while it remained the way William would always remember it.
They’d had to leave at that point, Harri and Annie, knowing their cab was on its way. They had just enough time to get up the slope and pull books from the shelves to replace the Valentine’s titles, books to reflect their particular interests.
It hadn’t taken long to make their display, given that there were so many books that fit their chosen criteria.
Lady Chatterley’s Lover , The Bluest Eye , Ulysses , The Well of Loneliness , Annie on My Mind , and in case their theme wasn’t clear to everyone, right in the middle of the table on a Perspex riser, a copy of a charming children’s story about a secret society of kids who set out to read books rendered tantalising and intriguing by the disapproval of the grown-ups, Ban This Book by Alan Gratz, which, perhaps predictably, had also found itself banned.
Harri left his cases (and his tomato seedlings) up at the Big House, knowing any homeward journey would have to include coming back here to check up on William and all of his new friends. He’d set off for the airport with only a backpack.
He couldn’t know if Annie – his Annwyl – would accompany him on that return trip, but he was certain that any separation would be temporary. They had their whole lives together to work out the where and the how of it all. For now, he had her in his arms and that was what mattered.
As the plane circled over the South West, making its way out over the wide expanse of sparkling ocean, the late winter sun shone low in the sky.
Down below, unbeknown to Harri and Annie, the next Borrower was making their way down the slope, enjoying the mid-February sunshine, thinking of getting an ice cream perhaps, and planning on a quiet fortnight of untroubled bookselling.
Meanwhile, on the tallest tower of Clove Lore Castle, observed by a gathered crowd of newly forged friends, all busybodies and matchmakers and book-lovers and the kindest of neighbours, William Sabine smiled at the sight of the Courtenay flag being hoisted into the air. It unfurled against the blue sky: an ancient crest depicting an open book and above its elegant curling pages, two hearts forever entwined.