Chapter 11
Chapter Eleven
‘How are you getting on? Very well, I see,’ I said to Kat and Leo when I returned to the bookshop cabin.
The latter was laden down with an armful of books, and there was another pile of volumes next to the card machine.
The pair of them might be about to become responsible for the Bookship turning a profit this month.
‘I’m concerned we may have to start looking for a bigger home already,’ said Leo.
‘By my calculations, the new bookcase is full and then some. Did I mention I’ve developed this recurring nightmare about being trapped under an avalanche of books?
’ He didn’t seem too bothered about it, his expression soft as he looked at Kat.
She rolled her eyes. ‘He’s one to talk. His stack is the one by the till.’
‘I confess, you’ve got me bang to rights.’
‘You know what they say: there’s no such thing as too many books, just not enough bookcases,’ I said with a smile.
Kat nodded. ‘Exactly that.’
‘I’ll throw this in, as a house-warming present,’ I said, picking a copy of What You Are Looking For Is In The Library from the central display. It was one of my go-to comfort reads and I knew these two would adore it.
‘Thank you. The author’s obviously very wise as it turned out to be true for me,’ said Leo, nodding towards Kat.
She smiled back at him, then reached across the counter and gave my hand a squeeze. ‘That’s so kind of you, Molly. I’ve heard a lot of good things about it but haven’t got round to reading it myself yet. You always make the best recommendations.’
As I rang up their purchases, I decided to turn the conversation back round to my new neighbour to see if they’d spotted anything on their way past. Leo ran a private investigation business after all, so he was bound to pay careful attention to his surroundings at all times.
‘Is it me or has it gone quiet at last?’ I asked, nodding my head in the direction of the soon-to-be Jericho Wine Barge. There was another thunderous sound of banging before they could respond. ‘Nope, sadly not.’
‘We did think that he’s got his work cut out for him as we walked past,’ said Kat. ‘It looked like he’s single-handedly stripping the interior completely back. It’s going to be quite the job carrying everything along the towpath to get rid of it.’
I nodded. That would explain the banging then.
It was concerning that Jack hadn’t bothered waiting for help with the work.
Maybe his claim that he was going to get someone in who could also work on the damage to the Oxford Bookship had been just that, a claim, without any basis in truth.
Given his track record of poor behaviour, it wouldn’t surprise me.
‘He’s not hanging around,’ I said. ‘He’s only just arrived. I was hoping he’d take a few days to recover from the experience before he started work. I guess he wants to catch the summer trade with his new enterprise.’
‘From experience of starting up a business, it’s best to get stuck in as soon as possible,’ said Leo. ‘The early days can be challenging.’
‘I know that,’ I responded with feeling.
Did a year in still qualify as being early days?
I knew Leo had started his business around the same time as I had, but judging by the number of books he was buying, I suspected he was doing a lot better than I was out of it, although at least today’s sales figures would reap the benefit of his success.
‘What’s he planning to do with the boat? Is he going to be living on it full time like you?’ asked Kat.
I quickly told her about the Jericho Wine Barge. To my disappointment, she looked delighted.
‘What fun, and in time for the good weather too. We’ll have to go and check it out, won’t we, Leo? And maybe you could arrange a joint bookshop and bar night. We were saying last night we hoped you’d do an event that wasn’t only for singletons, now we’re practically smug marrieds.’
‘Bridget Jones’s Diary,’ said Leo, looking pleased with himself for getting her reference.
These two were too cute. If I’d even dreamt of mentioning the M word around my last boyfriend, he’d have fled in a panic, but Leo seemed completely relaxed.
‘I’ve been working my way through all Kat’s favourites,’ he added, making me like him even more.
I smiled. ‘Good for you. And I bet you’re not the type of guy to say he preferred the film to the book.’
Kat drew her breath in with a hiss. ‘He wouldn’t dare. Although the Bridget Jones movies are also excellent.’
‘They are; it’s true. And you make a good point about events for a wider audience.
I want to share the Oxford Bookship with as many people as possible.
I’ve been mulling over a few ideas. How does a bookish afternoon tea sound?
I was thinking of theming the treats with specific books, like carrot cake for Anne of Green Gables as a nod to her touchiness about her beautiful hair colour.
Do you think there’d be much of a market for that? ’
‘I love it,’ said Kat. ‘You can’t go far wrong with a books and cake combo.’
‘It would of course rely on the weather being good,’ I thought aloud.
‘There’s not enough room to set up more than a couple of small tables for afternoon tea in here.
Most people would have to sit on the decks or by the towpath.
And I’d have to find someone to make the cakes for me.
The galley isn’t exactly designed for fine patisserie work, that’s supposing I was even capable of such a thing, which I’m not. ’
‘You’ve thought about author events, right?’ said Kat. ‘I’m happy to pass your details on to the authors we’ve had into the library if you want.’
‘That would be great, thank you. Signings, readings, whatever they want, I’d love to host them.
It’s one of the reasons I wanted to open a bookshop in the first place.
I’ve reached out to loads of authors and am desperately hoping my emails didn’t go into their spam folders.
’ I didn’t articulate my real fear that no one had replied because my bookshop was considered too small fry to be worthy of consideration.
‘Persistence is key. In my experience, authors are very busy people. Most of them have to juggle day jobs with the writing after all, but I’m sure you’ll find some takers before long.
’ Kat checked her watch. ‘Heck, we’re running late.
We’re going to have to love you and leave you.
’ She gave me a quick hug. ‘Make sure we’re top of the invitation list for your bookish afternoon tea and your first author event. See you soon.’
It was only after they’d left that I realised I should have asked them to drop Jack’s coat off for me on their way past, but at least this way I had an excuse for doing some snooping.
I joined Hilda on the stern deck and pretended I was checking the towpath for customers, while glancing surreptitiously across to the Jericho Wine Barge.
Was that a pile of wooden cabinets on the well deck?
He’d better not be dumping those on the side of the canal and cluttering up the area I liked to think of as my private garden, even though technically it was shared between the moorings.
‘You’re staring so hard, you might as well come across and take a closer look.’ Jack poked his head out of the cabin door, which by nature of our respective moorings meant he was only a couple of metres away from me.
I jumped at his sudden appearance. ‘I thought you might want this back,’ I said, holding up the coat.
‘You can leave it by the mooring once you’ve had it dry-cleaned,’ he said, his expression solemn.
I gaped at him. ‘I only wore it for half an hour, tops. Getting it dry-cleaned seems a little excessive.’
He continued looking steadily at me, then his right eyebrow quirked slightly upwards. ‘I was making a joke,’ he said, as if it was obvious.
‘Hilarious. Maybe you should consider a career in stand-up comedy?’ I suggested. ‘Although you might have to reconsider the deadpan delivery. It could make you sound like you’re grumpy instead.’
Jack seemed unbothered by my assessment. ‘I’m quite happy with the career path I’ve chosen, thanks.’
‘I’ll chuck this across for you,’ I said, preparing to throw.
‘I’d prefer it didn’t end up in the drink,’ he said, which was rich coming from a guy who’d shown himself to be incapable of throwing a mooring rope ashore properly. He was probably worried about his ability to catch it safely, I thought.
‘Fine, I’ll bring it across. Stay here, Hilda,’ I instructed. She settled down on the deck, but when she realised I was about to get off the boat, she jumped up and leapt onto the towpath, leading the way to the Jericho Wine Barge, tail wagging furiously.
‘At least someone’s pleased to see me,’ said Jack.
‘I think she spotted a bird,’ I lied, jumping ashore myself and quickly checking my mooring ropes were still secure out of habit.
I took my time covering the short distance to the Jericho Wine Barge so I could get a proper look at the boat.
Unlike the tasteful dark blue exterior of the Oxford Bookship with her painted swirls of faded, burnished gold around the portholes, the Jericho Wine Barge had a colour palette of red, moss green and yellow.
The colours were all normally used on traditional boats, but to my critical gaze, they seemed garish, like a cartoon interpretation of what a canal boat should look like.
‘What do you think? I asked the boatyard to freshen up the paint before I took full ownership,’ said Jack, Hilda making herself at home beside him.
‘It’s a shame you didn’t get them to sort your engine out while they were at it,’ I said.