Chapter Forty-Six
The ballroom seemed vast now it was empty of people and all the chairs had been stacked at the sides.
The amp gave an electric groan as Crush unplugged her bass.
She opened its case and tucked the guitar inside.
Grace folded the square of velvet they’d used to cover the table which heaved with Naomi’s books before the event.
‘I can’t believe all those books were sold,’ she said to Harry, who was collecting up discarded auction booklets.
‘It’s been quite the success,’ said Harry. ‘Well done, you, for being the driving force.’
‘It was a collective effort,’ said Grace. She grinned. ‘I keep looking for Earnest. It’s so strange to see you without him.’
‘He’s at home with his climbing tree. He’ll be at book club next week,’ said Harry. ‘What are you reading at the moment?’
‘The Year of Magical Thinking,’ said Grace. ‘Annie gave me a copy a few months ago, but I didn’t feel up to reading about grief until recently.’
Harry nodded. ‘Grief is a strange thing, isn’t it?
Even years after Marjorie died, I would be getting on with my day, then suddenly, my knees would weaken with it again.
Out of nowhere, I’d be emptied by the most debilitating desolation.
The absolute knowledge that she no longer existed in this world was too awful to bear. It crushes you, doesn’t it?’
Grace recognized every word he said. ‘It does. It really does.’ She stroked the soft velvet.
‘It gets better, though, in the end?’ She said it as a question, although she already knew the answer.
The acute pain of loss rarely floored her these days.
She could bear the memories, now. Sometimes they were even a comfort.
‘It gets better.’
‘After the Joan Didion, I was thinking of reading the next in that Bridgerton series.’ She said the words lightly.
Harry turned to her. ‘You were?’
‘Yes.’ She held the velvet to her chest. ‘And I was hoping, when I’ve finished it, the offer to discuss the book à deux might still stand?’
Harry smiled, his green eyes warm. ‘à trois, if we count Earnest.’
‘à trois.’ Grace said. ‘Perfect.’ She took the velvet through to the bar, where the others were busy collecting their bags and coats.
‘Right, I think we’ve got everything,’ said Rosie. ‘Where’s Jude?’
Grace scanned the bar but couldn’t see him anywhere.
Her eyes caught a movement in the beer garden.
Adjusting her focus, she saw a tall shadow next to a smaller one.
The two shadows merged as their lips met.
Grace’s hand went to her heart. Something deep inside told her that Jude and Jasmine were at the start of something very special indeed.
Her eyes refocused and she regarded her own reflection in the glass.
The woman looking back at her had shining eyes and a bright smile.
She was almost luminescent, as though, with the changes of the last six months, she was newly lit, glowing from the inside out.