Chapter 3
‘I don’t believe it! Isla! How lovely to see you! Jonathan, look who’s here!’
Walking into Finch’s Bookstore evoked so many memories for Isla.
From the old-fashioned bell that rung above her head when she entered through the front door, to the low lighting provided by the vintage lamps dotted around the store, to the floor-to-ceiling wooden shelves that were filled with an array of different books, in what seemed like a haphazard manner, but were in fact part of Jonathan’s methodical filing system that only actually existed in the deepest recesses of his amazing brain.
The newer editions were displayed at the front of the shop, but if you ventured further into the old building, down the half flight of stairs, the shop opened up into a maze of small rooms that housed the specialist and antiquarian books.
Most of all, it was a delicious, sweet aroma that welcomed Isla, a heady mix of vanilla and scorched wood that ignited all her senses.
Miriam Finch walked out from behind the wooden counter to greet Isla, wrapping her in a hug. Even Miriam wore the same signature scent, as though she had sprayed it liberally behind her ears, from an expensive glass bottle from a Parisian parfumier.
Miriam took a step back, clutching Isla’s face in her hands, as if she was checking that it was really her.
‘How are you? You’re looking very well. The new hairstyle really suits you.’ Isla had recently had her long blonde hair cut into a swingy layered bob and she’d received plenty of compliments on the new look. ‘Are you home for the weekend?’
‘No, I’m back until the new year now. I thought I’d take a proper break.
’ The more often she said it, the more she could believe it was actually true.
That come January, she would be returning to her job in the glossy West End offices when instead, she would be scanning the job sites to find something new, a prospect she didn’t relish.
From what she’d heard, the job market was bad out there, and although she had enough money from her payout to see her through a six-month period, she knew that the safety net might quickly disappear, especially with her expensive rent and living costs.
What would she do if she couldn’t find exactly the right kind of job that she was looking for?
And that was a big part of the problem. She didn’t actually know what she was looking for.
‘What a lovely surprise!’ Jonathan Finch came to join his wife and greeted Isla just as effusively. ‘You are a sight for sore eyes, you really are.’
‘How are you both?’
‘Not too bad,’ said Miriam, casting a nervous glance towards Jonathan, but Isla didn’t need to ask; she had known instinctively that something was adrift.
The moment she’d walked through the door, despite the warm welcome, she sensed a shift in the atmosphere since the last time she was here.
It wasn’t only the slight whiff of neglect that hung in the air; she noticed too how weary they both looked.
Jonathan, especially, wore a tiredness around him that was palpable; he moved slowly and purposefully, and he’d lost weight, his trousers tied tightly around the middle with a belt.
‘We’ll be pleased to see the back of this year, though. ’
‘Really?’ Isla asked, concerned.
Miriam nodded, worry etched in her features. ‘Are you in a rush? Or do you have time to stop for a coffee?’
‘Of course, I do. I have all the time in the world.’
Over their hot drinks, Miriam explained how Jonathan had suffered a series of mini-strokes earlier in the year and how he hadn’t fully regained his health.
This had impacted on the business because, with only Penny working as a part-time assistant, they’d had to close the shop for several days when Jonathan had been in hospital and Miriam had needed to be at his side.
‘It all happened so quickly that we didn’t have time to arrange cover so things lapsed here, I’m afraid.
We’re still catching up now, but there’s always so much to do.
’ Miriam blew out a breath that caused her fringe to flutter in front of her eyes.
‘Anyway, how’s the job going?’ she asked, looking relieved to change the subject.
‘Have you signed any future bestsellers recently?’
‘Well, this is one of my authors,’ Isla said, gleefully, turning to pick up a dual timeslip novel, called The Forgotten Wife, that she’d spotted on a nearby table.
A wave of sadness mixed with pride washed over her, seeing the book she’d worked so hard on, fending for itself out in the big wide world.
She could have had no idea back then that she would suddenly find herself jobless.
She would miss her authors, some of whom had become close friends.
Running her hands over the cover of the book, her fingers smoothed over the contours of the golden embossing.
‘It’s a wonderfully gripping story. I’m glad to see it has pride of place here. ’
‘We’ve already sold several copies, but we’ll be sure to keep them stocked now we know it’s one of yours. Do you need a stool, Jon?’ Miriam’s brow furrowed as she caught sight of her husband, who was rubbing at his hip with a pained expression on his face.
‘I might have to,’ he said, reluctantly accepting the seat offered by his wife. ‘This bloody leg of mine. It hasn’t been the same since I had the stroke. It keeps giving way beneath me.’
Isla hated to see Jonathan in such a bad way; he’d always been such an energetic and vital person, hurrying around the shop in search of one particular tome or another, but now it was as though all his strength had been stripped from him.
Miriam looked ashen too, no doubt from the strain of worrying about her husband.
‘Could you not get some extra staff in, just to help you run the place for a few weeks?’
‘We’ve been looking at all our options, haven’t we, Miriam?’ Jonathan said solemnly. ‘Business has taken a bit of a nosedive this year.’
‘Yes.’ His wife let out a heavy sigh. ‘We’re going to muddle through until the new year and then decide on the best course of action.
What Jon’s recent ill health has taught us is that time is precious.
We’ve spent a great portion of our life within this building.
It’s been our whole raison d’être for over thirty years, and you know how much we’ve loved it, but we have to consider how we want to spend the rest of the time we have together.
We’ve always wanted to go travelling. If we don’t do it now, then when will we do it? ’
Isla nodded as though she understood, but she was still trying to make sense of the ramifications of what Miriam was telling her. It sent a ripple of unease along her body as she wondered what all those options might be.
‘You can’t be thinking of selling up?’ Isla didn’t like to pry, but she couldn’t stop herself from asking.
‘Well… that would be a last resort,’ muttered Jonathan, while at the same time, Miriam announced firmly, ‘Quite honestly, I think it would be the best solution all round.’
Isla spotted the challenging glance between the pair of them and realised it was obviously a sensitive topic.
Isla deftly moved the conversation onto their respective plans for Christmas, the local news and Miriam was just asking about Isla’s busy life in London when a young man appeared at the counter.
‘I wonder if you can help me. I’m looking for a book.
I was out with my girlfriend in London and she spotted it in a store window as we walked past and she mentioned that she wanted to read it, but I can’t for the life of me remember the title.
It’s her birthday tomorrow. All I know is that it’s about a rabbit. ’
It wasn’t an unusual request. People would often come into the shop searching for a particular book, but without knowing what it was called or who it was by.
The customer might know the colour of the jacket or have part of the author’s name, or even a vague description of what it was about, but often the details were painfully scarce.
Jonathan and Miriam were used to doing a bit of a detective work, to read between the lines, to help the customer find exactly what they were looking for.
‘Do you know if it’s an old book or a recent one?’ Jonathan asked.
‘Sorry,’ said the man, with a shrug. ‘I’m not being much help, am I? Although I would recognise it if I saw it.’
‘Well, the obvious one that comes to mind is Watership Down. I know we have a copy of that somewhere.’
Before the man could protest, Jonathan was off, determined but laboured, the weakness in his leg clear to see as he made his way slowly through the shop, steadying himself on the door frames as he went.
A few books sprung into Isla’s mind too as she stood there trying not to get in the way.
It was at least a distraction from worrying about the Finches and the future of the bookshop.
As she looked around, she could see the signs that perhaps Jonathan and Miriam weren’t coping as well as they might.
The layout of the shop had always been higgledy-piggledy, that was part of its charm, but it was even more cluttered and disorganised than normal.
The shelves needed a thorough dusting, there were cobwebs in the high corners of the rooms and the front paned windows were grubby and dirty.
Behind the counter, there were boxes of unopened books and a big pile of post that needed seeing to as well.
In all the other shops Isla had visited this morning, the festive season had well and truly arrived, but here, there wasn’t a decoration anywhere or a Christmas-themed display in sight.
‘Right…’ Jonathan was back, out of breath and with a tight smile on his face. ‘Was it either of these?’ he asked hopefully, laying two books on the counter.