Epilogue
For fear Jules might change her mind, Roman bustled her into the registry office just two weeks later, promising her a church
blessing and a big party on their return from their travels. His parents, her mother, and Flo were the only witnesses, and
Jules wore her green silk dress again. Maggie, as befits the mother of the bride, bought an expensive hat for the occasion.
She glowered from under the brim at the Montbeaus all the way through, but didn’t utter a snarky word, on pain of death.
Flo, getting to grips with the garden at Hollyhock Cottage, busily started planning the growing of thousands of sweet peas
for the church service and wedding party the following summer. In the meantime, she discovered to her delight that her beautiful
new garden, so lovingly tended by its previous owner, had something in bloom, or at least producing color and interest, all
year round. She put homegrown flowers on Bridget Capelthorne’s memorial plaque every week, without fail. She and Graham ate
lunch together most days, and Diana soon filled her diary so full of activities she hardly had time to miss the bookshop at
all.
Flo had been worried that, at age eighteen, Merlin was too old for a new start.
She was saddened but relieved when, just weeks before she moved into Hollyhock Cottage, her venerable old companion curled up contentedly on his favorite cushion in that patch of sunshine he adored and simply never woke up.
Even with her hectic social schedule and daytime companionship with Graham, Flo found herself a little sad to be alone in
the new house, especially in the evenings, with the curtains drawn and the fire cozily lit. One morning, in the spring, Diana
took her to the Portneath dog rescue, where she was chosen by a scruffy white-and-tan bundle of fun—a Jack Russell puppy called
Digger. Unfortunately, Digger lived up to his name and caused havoc in Flo’s precious garden. But he was such a merry little
dog, and was such good company, she forgave him again and again.
In the modern tradition, Jules and Roman agreed to combine their surnames on marriage. Both styled themselves Capelthorne-Montbeau,
causing the two warring families’ names to be united at last.
And did the family members themselves bury the hatchet after all those generations of enmity? Well, thanks to endless diplomacy
and patience on both sides, cordial—if not effusive—relations were maintained; at least, let’s just say, there was the occasional
combined family Sunday lunch. At these events even Maggie and Henry—on pain of excommunication from future grandchildren—were
prevented from coming to blows, just as long as they were not required to be polite to each other for too long.
As for Capelthorne’s, after some pragmatic and compassionate decisions by the Montbeau family, the doors on the oldest bookshop in Portneath never did close in the end.
Instead, thanks to an interim manager keeping things ticking over until Jules and Roman got back from their honeymoon travels, the little bookshop was restocked, refreshed, and went from strength to strength.
The old scarlet-and-gold sign over the door was sympathetically restored, and Roman negotiated a very fair deal with Flo for the ongoing use of the name.
All this ensured Capelthorne’s Books, with its rich history and legacy, would not disappear from Portneath High Street after all.
At least, not in Roman and Jules’s lifetime.