Chapter Thirty-Seven
Jude came along to book club the following Wednesday to show everyone the films. Almost everyone.
Annie had sent a message to Crush saying she was sorry, but she wouldn’t be able to make it.
Grace was hurt when she discovered Annie had messaged Crush, not her, but she knew she had no right to be.
Annie had been Crush’s friend for ten years, and Grace’s for not much more than ten minutes.
She should remember her place. The walnut console table had been delivered earlier in the day and both she and Crush were delighted with how it looked with a lamp at one end and a trailing plant at the other.
Next Grace planned to find a pair of matching octagonal side tables.
She hadn’t been this busy for years and she loved every minute.
Jude and Jasmine both stood with their fingers knitted nervously in front of them while the videos played on the laptop.
Grace couldn’t help stealing glances at them.
The way Jasmine’s eyes kept returning to Jude’s face convinced Grace her feelings matched his, but Grace couldn’t interfere, however much she wanted to.
‘Look at Earnest’s face in that,’ said Tracy, slapping her leg and laughing. ‘Can you rewind?’
Jude pressed the keys, and they all watched again as the cat appeared to nod along with what Harry was saying.
‘You’re a good boy, aren’t you?’ said Harry, tickling Earnest between the ears. ‘Making me look clever in front of the camera.’
‘You are clever, Hazza,’ said Tracy. ‘I think we all are. We should be bloody proud of ourselves. This is good stuff.’
‘Well done,’ said Lee to Jude and Jasmine. ‘I love what you’ve done with the footage.’
Grace realized that was the first time she’d heard Lee say something that wasn’t imparting information. ‘I thought your segment was great, Lee. Really from the heart.’
Lee blushed. ‘Thanks, Grace. I enjoyed taking part.’
They smiled at each other and Grace was sure he grew taller in front of her eyes. ‘I’ve brought My Name is Leon with me to read today in reading time,’ she said. His smile grew wider.
‘Is everyone happy with the videos?’ said Jude. ‘Any edits you’d like us to make before we upload them?’
Everyone said they were more than happy. Grace remembered what Jasmine said about Annie when they were editing at her house. ‘Even though Annie didn’t film her own interview, I’d like to run them by her before they go live. Is that okay?’
‘Of course,’ said Jude. ‘Just let me know when you’ve got the green light, then we’ll go ahead on all the social media platforms. I’ll tag everyone, and make sure you repost using the hashtags we agreed.’ He closed the laptop. ‘Right, thanks all, I’ll head off—’
‘Oh, aren’t you staying for the rest?’ Jasmine appeared crestfallen. Grace looked away because she didn’t trust herself not to make an I told you so face at Jude. ‘I mean, if you’ve got things to do.’ Jasmine seemed to realize how quickly she’d jumped in and started to backtrack.
‘I, erm,’ said Jude. ‘I didn’t bring a book.’
‘I’ve got two with me, if you …’ Jasmine lifted one shoulder then let it drop.
Jude paused and Grace willed him to say he’d love to stay. Instead, he made an awkward gesture towards the door and said, ‘I’d better get off.’
‘No worries, see you around.’ Jasmine dug in her bag for her book, hiding her face as she rummaged and Grace could feel her disappointment. She stuck her tongue to the roof of her mouth to stop herself from telling him to stop being an idiot and take a chance with her.
‘Bye, everyone. See ya, Grandma.’
Everyone said their goodbyes and made their way to their usual seats. Grace sat on one side of the sofa, missing the warm presence of Annie at the other side, and painfully aware of Jasmine’s sad eyes watching Jude’s back as he made for the door.
***
‘How do you feel about the world knowing you read Jane Austen as well as Tolstoy,’ said Grace, as she and Harry stood outside Books En Parade after book club. ‘I’m presuming Tolstoy wrote about wars? That’s just the first name that came into my head.’
‘War and Peace would suggest as much, although I’ve never actually read it. Don’t tell anyone, will you?’ He smiled mischievously. ‘Or my reputation as a roughty, toughty military man will be in tatters.’
‘I suspect Frank would suggest you told the world. Isn’t that one of the points of book club, that everyone reads what they enjoy, not what anyone else thinks they should enjoy?’
Harry’s eyebrows formed a deep V. ‘Do you know what, Mrs Bray, you make a very good point.’ He dropped a cat biscuit in the grey bag and Earnest dutifully followed it inside. ‘I wonder, are you busy now?’ He zipped Earnest’s bag closed and lifted it onto his shoulder.
‘Not especially, why?’
‘I was hoping you might accompany me on a little mission of honesty.’
‘A mission of honesty? I’m intrigued. Where would this mission take us? I’m parked on Church Row.’
‘That couldn’t be more perfect, since that’s where I live. If you’d be kind enough to come to my home, I’d like to show you something.’
Grace couldn’t help but laugh. ‘Every time I tell Rosie I want to show her something, she says “is it your bum?” She’s said it for years. Inelegant, I know, but it still makes me laugh.’
‘I promise, dear lady, no derrières will be displayed on this particular sojourn.’ He crooked his elbow, and she slipped her arm through his. ‘But what I do show you may well be equally as surprising.’
A minute later they were standing outside an elegant townhouse overlooking the common.
The low hedges in front were neatly manicured and pink roses seemed to nod their welcome on the bushes either side of the steps leading up to a shiny black front door.
Grace took in the large sash windows and smart brickwork.
‘I didn’t know you lived here. I’ve always admired these houses. ’
‘I’m afraid I can’t take credit for the purchase of this fine establishment.
It belonged to my parents.’ He peered up at the architrave above the door.
‘I’m terribly fond of the old place, though.
’ He unlocked the door onto a high-ceilinged hallway and stood back to let Grace pass inside.
‘I dare say you may recognize some of the pieces.
He switched on a lamp on the hall table and Grace gasped.
‘Mahogany George the third, if I’m not very much mistaken.
’ She looked at him and he nodded. ‘She ran a finger across the inlays.
‘I remember this piece. We had it in the window for months. I always thought it was attractive and was so pleased when it went to a new home. I have a vague recollection of a woman buying it, was that …?’
‘Marjorie, yes. She loved your shop. It took me a while to put two and two together, but when I learned you previously worked there, I knew you must’ve met Marjorie on a number of occasions.’ He placed the bag on the floor and let Earnest out. The cat circled his ankles and purred.
Grace tried to remember the woman’s face, but it was so long ago. ‘Do you have a photograph of her?’
‘Yes, follow me.’ He led her into a drawing room with a fireplace at the far wall, pale tiles with a thistle pattern adorned either side. Her eyes were drawn up to the rose in the middle of the ceiling with a crystal chandelier in amber and golds. ‘What a beautiful room.’
‘Yes, it has all the original features, but that might be due to neglect rather than any intentional preservation. I’m afraid I’ve rather let the old place go.’
On further inspection, Grace could see the wallpaper curling up in one corner and the brocade curtains hanging limply from a warped rail.
‘It’s only me here, you see, and Earnest, of course.
’ On cue, Earnest strutted to Harry’s side.
‘So there seems little incentive to keep up with the jobs. I should, I know. Marjorie would be terribly cross. She ran a tight ship.’ He lifted a picture in a mottled silver frame from the mantelpiece above the fireplace.
‘Here she is. This was taken on our wedding day.’
Grace took the offered photograph. ‘Look at all your hair.’ She covered her mouth. ‘Sorry, was that rude?’
Harry ran his hand over his bald pate. ‘The difference is hard to ignore, isn’t it? I sported a fine head of the stuff once upon a time.’
‘You look very smart in your uniform.’ Grace studied the face of the woman standing next to Harry. She wore a simple satin gown, her dark hair pulled back into an ornate up-do, soft tendrils falling around her face.
‘She usually wore her hair down,’ said Harry. ‘It was cut to about here.’ He tapped his finger on his collarbone.
Peering more closely, Grace recognized Marjorie’s straight nose and almond eyes and then an image of her, dressed in jeans and an oversized jumper came into her mind.
‘I do remember her. She was smiley, wasn’t she?
Very posh.’ Once again, she wondered if she’d said something inappropriate, but Harry laughed.
‘Yes, I suppose she did sound rather plummy. We were alike in that sense. Hard to shake the accent when you both have it.’
‘I remember liking her,’ said Grace, truthfully. ‘I’m very sorry you lost her so young.’ She handed the photograph back to Harry and he gazed at it fondly, then placed it back above the fireplace. ‘Was that what you wanted to show me?’
‘Actually no,’ said Harry. ‘It was my bum.’ The word sounded so absurd coming out of Harry’s mouth that Grace was too stunned to react.
‘Sorry,’ he said, laughing so hard his face went red.
‘I couldn’t resist, but I simply can’t pull it off, can I?
’ He guffawed again. ‘Oh, dear. That sounded even worse. I’m so sorry, Grace, I don’t know what’s come over me. ’
‘Do you need a glass of water?’ said Grace, with a wry smile. ‘You’re clearly having some kind of turn.’
‘No, give me a minute.’ He took gasping breaths. ‘I do apologize. I shouldn’t attempt humour, it’s not my forte. I always find it far funnier than the intended recipient. Now where were we?’
‘You were going to show me something that definitely was not your backside.’
‘Ah, yes. Follow me.’ He went into the hallway and showed Grace into a smaller room at the back of the house.
He switched on the overhead light, revealing a cosy space with floral wallpaper in muted greys, far less grand than the room with windows overlooking the common.
Brightly coloured cat toys were scattered across the floor and an elaborate cat tree with a scratching post in the shape of a cactus stood in one corner. ‘This is my snug.’
‘It is very snug.’ A tall bookcase stood next to a well-worn armchair. ‘I can imagine you sitting there reading one of your war books on a winter’s evening.’
‘Then you’d be wrong,’ said Harry. ‘Take a look at the books on the shelf.’
Grace crossed the well-worn carpet to the bookcase with small acorns carved into the wooden frame.
Inspecting the novels, she saw that it wasn’t war books at all.
Many of the spines were pastel coloured.
Half of one shelf was dedicated to an author whose name Grace recognized, Julia Quinn.
She took one book off the shelf and observed two actors from the Netflix series Bridgerton on the cover.
She was about to ask if Marjorie was a fan of the series when she remembered Marjorie died fifteen years ago, before these covers with the actors on were released.
‘Oh,’ she said, turning to Harry. ‘You read romance novels?’
‘My guilty secret,’ said Harry. ‘It began when Marjorie encouraged me to read Jane Austen. Then she and I would both read whatever she brought home from the bookshop, and it soon became my preferred genre. Now, there’s nothing I like more than escaping into a world where I know there will be a happily ever after. ’
‘You know what Frank would say about using the term “guilty secret”, don’t you?’
Harry came over and took the book from her, gazing fondly at the jacket.
‘Yes, and he’d be right. These books have kept me company through many a long night.
They’re beautifully written, full of emotion and guaranteed to lift the spirits.
I don’t know why I hide them away, as though they’re something to be ashamed of. ’
‘You were probably conditioned to,’ said Grace. She arched an eyebrow. ‘Do you actually enjoy the war books?’
Harry grimaced. ‘Sometimes, but I’d much rather lose myself in one of these.’
‘Then why don’t you?’
Harry placed his palm on the book. ‘Telling you is one thing. It feels like I’d have to explain myself to everyone if I suddenly turn up with a romance novel instead of Wilbur Smith.’
Grace scanned the bookcase. ‘I’ve never really read romance myself.’
‘You’re missing out,’ said Harry.
‘Could you recommend one?’ she said. ‘Which is your favourite?’
He tapped his index finger along the spines of the Julia Quinn shelf. ‘This one.’ He pulled out a book called Because of Miss Bridgerton. ‘This is the first of the prequels to Bridgerton. It’s witty and intensely romantic.’
‘Okay,’ said Grace. ‘I’ll get a copy.’
‘You can borrow this one,’ said Harry, ‘as long as you don’t turn down the pages like a savage.’
‘That won’t fit with my plan,’ said Grace. ‘And turning down pages is not savagery. It’s perfectly normal.’
‘We’ll agree to disagree on that,’ said Harry. ‘What’s your plan?’
‘A buddy read. I’ll pretend I’ve asked you to read this book alongside me. That way, you can take what you want to book club without losing face, and then you can say how much you enjoyed it and carry on reading the books you like.’
Harry’s lips twisted to the side. ‘It’s a good plan, and a most generous one, but as you said, Frank wouldn’t approve of subterfuge. I should be man enough to say openly that I enjoy romance novels.’
‘I shouldn’t have suggested Frank wouldn’t approve of you.
Worrying what another man would think of you shouldn’t be part of the thought process; added to which, I can confidently tell you Frank would want you to be comfortable, above all else.
And if it’s easier for you to come out as a romance reader with a little help from me, then he would completely understand. ’
‘I’m not sure …’
Grace put back her shoulders. ‘Harry, would you please buddy read this book with me?’
Harry grinned. ‘Well, if it would make you happy, Grace.’
‘It would.’
‘Then nothing would bring me greater pleasure.’