Chapter Forty
The group met an hour early for the next book club, and Books En Parade buzzed with chatter about how well the videos were doing.
They sat close together, Jude in Annie’s spot on the sofa with his laptop open beside him.
The light from the lamp illuminated one side of his face and Grace sighed at how beautiful he was.
She felt like all the best parts of herself, Frank, Rosie and Paz had come together to create this perfect human being.
Did all grandparents feel like that? Possibly. That didn’t make her any less right.
‘Twenty more authors have shared their Desert Island Reads today,’ said Jude, glancing up from the screen.
The light danced in his eyes, his excitement clear.
‘They’re all using the hashtags, DesertIslandReads, ReadWithEarnest and TheSilentBookClub and nearly all of them remembered to add the donation link.
I put it in comments along with a thank you to those who forgot. ’
‘How many’s that overall?’ said Tracy. She sat forwards in the chair and Grace knew how she felt, like they were on the verge of something thrilling.
‘One hundred and six, including bloggers. But the number’s going up all the time. I’m having trouble keeping up with comments.’
Grace didn’t like the sound of that. She sat next to him on the sofa. ‘If it’s overwhelming, you don’t have to like and reply to everything.’
Jude gave her a squeeze. ‘Don’t worry, Grandma. You couldn’t stop me if you tried. Work’s dead impressed with me too. They like having a content creator who’s killing it right now, even if I do say so myself.’
Grace was thrilled to hear this admission of pride in himself. Maybe this project was as good for him as it had been for her.
‘You are killing it,’ said Harry, making everyone smile at how strange the phrase sounded in his accent.
‘We all are,’ said Crush from her spot on the beanbag. ‘Readers can change the world!’ She drummed on her knees. ‘And on that point, I’ve got the confirmed line up of the very first Reading Rocks. Wanna know?’
Grace thought she looked like an excited little girl, albeit one covered in tattoos.
‘Yes please.’ She’d secured a Friday evening slot at The Bull’s Head at the top end of Royal Parade for free by guaranteeing the evening would be a sellout, and including a drink in the ticket price.
But that meant selling a hundred tickets, and despite her optimism, her nerves were jangling.
‘I hope you’re as excited about this as I am.’ Crush pulled her lips back in a child-like grin. ‘Dani and Lorna from Parker have agreed to start the evening with a performance of “Puncture Wounds”.’
‘You are kidding?’ said Tracy, her mouth hanging open. She put her thumb and index to her forehead. ‘Are you actually serious?’
‘Serious as syphilis, baby.’
‘That’s very serious indeed,’ said Harry, his teeth bared in a grimace.
‘Al Capone died of syphilis,’ said Lee.
‘Back to the event,’ said Grace. ‘That’s wonderful news. I’m considerably less worried about ticket sales already.’
‘We could add twenty quid to the price,’ said Lee.
Grace shook her head. ‘Much as we want to make money for the cause, I think we should aim to keep costs low enough that genuine readers can afford it, not just those rich enough.’
‘Fair point,’ said Lee.
‘Agreed,’ said Crush. ‘Why don’t we advertise the author and the auction and then only let on Parker are playing if we struggle to sell tickets? That way, it will be about the books not us.’
Grace would never get over the humility of this wonderful woman.
‘Did you manage to get Naomi Newton?’ She crossed her fingers.
Naomi Newton’s second novel, For the Sake of All That’s Good, had been a Sunday Times bestseller for ten weeks now, and she was renowned for her public speaking skills.
Added to that, the book dealt with grief, and was already being made into a Hollywood film.
Crush clenched the sides of the beanbag in her fists, as though trying to contain her excitement. ‘I did!’ She only lives on the south coast, so she can get here by a direct train. She was well up for it when I told her about the fundraising.’
‘Oh, Crush, that’s amazing.’ Grace clapped her hands. ‘Any news on the auction?’
Tracy opened a notebook on her lap. ‘I’ve got eighty pledges so far, ranging from signed copies, to naming a character in a book.
A couple of authors have offered one-to-ones with people who want to write books themselves, and we’ve even had the offer of a full manuscript appraisal from an editor at one of the top five publishers. ’
‘Incredible,’ said Grace. ‘The generosity of strangers never fails to astonish me.’
‘So, if I design the promotional stuff for the event, can you put it on the new website?’ Jude said to Lee. ‘The site’s really intuitive, by the way. Good work.’
‘Thanks,’ said Lee, glowing with pride. He’d jumped at the job of creating a proper website for The Silent Book Club and they’d all been impressed with what he’d done with the help of Rosie’s photos and Jude and Jasmine’s films. Grace was tempted to ask what Lee did for a living again but didn’t quite have the nerve to admit he hadn’t been clear enough the first time.
‘I’ll create a link you can all share on socials that lets people pay directly into the account and cuts off when the event’s sold out. ’
‘Maybe we should make the auction available online, rather than just at the event?’ said Tracy. ‘Might raise more that way.’
‘That would be a lot of work,’ said Grace.
‘Harry and I might have time, but the rest of you have jobs and families and well … life to be getting on with.’ Grace realized that book club and its members had become the central hub of her life, and was incredibly grateful for it, but she didn’t want the others to feel like they were obliged to sacrifice all of their time for the cause.
‘I wish I was tech savvy enough to set up an online auction, but I fear it would take me as long as it would Earnest to learn the ropes.
‘I’m happy to help at the weekend. What about you, Lee?’ Tracy said.
‘No problemo,’ said Lee. ‘The one benefit of your wife leaving you ten months after you married is there’s an endless amount of time in the evenings and weekends to fill.’ He held out his hands. ‘And I can’t think of a better way to spend it.’ The room stilled.
‘I’m sorry to hear about your wife,’ said Crush, the beanbag scrunching as she moved to face him. ‘I wish you’d said something before. We’d have been there for you.’
He shrugged. ‘I was embarrassed, to tell you the truth. It was a fairly mortifying experience. She said I was boring. I tried to keep her interest by learning lots of facts and information, but it turned out the only information she was really interested in was what she found inside her colleague’s trousers. ’
‘Ouch,’ said Tracy. ‘In that case, you’re better off without her.’
‘I’m starting to think that might be true. And thank you all for keeping me busy. I don’t know what I would have done without book club the last few months.’ His voice cracked.
Tracy leaned from her chair and wrapped an arm around his shoulder. ‘Cry if you need to, pal. You’re safe with us.’
The group added their affirmations then sat in their usual seats and settled down to read.
Annie was absent again, but at least Grace was hopeful she’d be back in her rightful place beside her soon, long legs stretched out in front and a psychological thriller in her hands.
For now, she was glad that Jude was sticking around.
He switched off his laptop and brought a copy of Nathan Filer’s The Shock of the Fall from one of the many pockets in the leg of his trousers.
‘That’s a bit of a departure for you, Harry,’ Crush said, pointing at his copy of Because of Miss Bridgerton.’
Harry opened his mouth to speak but Grace jumped in, holding her copy of the same book in the air. ‘I asked Harry to do a buddy read. I fancied reading romance for a change.’
‘Really?’ Crush pushed her fringe out of her eyes. ‘Okay.’ She didn’t look convinced by either of them.
‘No, not really,’ said Harry. ‘My dear friend is trying to help me save face. The truth is, romance, particularly historical romance, is my guilty pleasure. Although Grace reminded me that Frank said there is no such thing as guilty pleasure when it comes to books. We all have our tastes, and we don’t have to apologize for them.
’ He turned to Grace. ‘Thank you for trying though.’
Grace laughed. ‘Good job you were in the army, not MI5. You’d make a terrible spy, spilling the beans like that without even the threat of thumb screws.’
‘I’d be a terrible spy, would I?’ He arched an eyebrow and suddenly Grace wasn’t so sure. His face relaxed. ‘How are you finding the book?’ He stopped. ‘Actually, we’re in quiet time, aren’t we? I’ll come back to that later.’
They went back to reading, but when the time was up and they were all preparing to leave, Harry took Grace by the elbow and led her to a quiet corner of the room.
‘I’d love to hear what you think of the book.
’ Sweat sprang up on his forehead. He licked his lips and Grace wondered what he was looking so nervous about.
‘I’m enjoying it, actually. It’s more—’
Harry held up a hand. ‘I was wondering if, perhaps, you’d care to join me for a coffee, or perhaps lunch somewhere in the village so we could talk about it, à deux.’
‘à deux?’ Heat crept up Grace’s neck. She glanced over to the cash desk where Frank’s picture usually sat.
But it wasn’t there because they’d agreed Annie would keep hold of it and bring it to meetings.
It shouldn’t have been Annie’s responsibility to make sure Frank was always with them.
It was hers. He started this club and here Grace was, taking over and acting as though he never existed at all.
And now she’d somehow given Harry the impression she was available for a clandestine meeting.
She couldn’t meet his eye, and she realized that was because the thought of lunch with this kind, genteel man was tempting, and what kind of woman did that make her?
How could she even consider betraying Frank’s memory like that?
‘No, I’m sorry. I can’t …’ Her mouth went dry.
‘I need to …’ She rushed to the sofa, picked up her bag, then stumbled out into the chill night air.