Epilogue
Six months later
‘Now the meeting is quorate,’ said Lee, perching on the edge of his seat at the back of Books En Parade, iPad in hand.
‘Can you speak in words I understand?’ said Annie.
Lee frowned. ‘Now most people are here, I’d like to address the first point on the agenda.’
‘The first point on the agenda is that I bumped into Jack yesterday,’ said Crush.
‘No, it isn’t,’ said Lee. ‘I emailed the agenda to everyone on Monday.’
‘It is now,’ said Crush. She turned to Annie. ‘He said his course is going well.’
Annie grinned. ‘It is. He’s shadowing a teacher at Orpington College too. And with him doing my shifts at the pub, he’s hardly ever home.’
‘He’s doing so well,’ said Grace.
‘He really is. He’s nearly back to his old self. He’s still seeing the counsellor and he’ll be on the medication for the foreseeable, and we’re not counting our chickens yet, but so far so good. I can’t tell you how grateful we are to you lot.’
‘That’s what the fund’s for,’ said Lee, ‘And on that point. I wanted to update you all on where we’re at with numbers.’
‘Yes, boss,’ said Crush, saluting.
Lee scowled. ‘I’m just trying to—’
‘Go ahead,’ said Grace. ‘We’re very grateful you take the fundraising seriously.
’ She turned to Crush. ‘You behave yourself.’ Crush stuck out her tongue then settled back into the antique leather armchair that Grace had found to replace the bean bag.
Since Grace had been working on the shop, this end looked more like a cosy, yet stylish gentlemen’s club than a sitcom set.
The trusty orange sofa was still the centrepiece.
‘Thirty-seven silent book clubs are now affiliated, and six more have made enquiries,’ said Lee. ‘The fundraising is going well. I sent the latest figures in an attachment with the agenda. Did you all get that?’
‘Yes, thank you,’ said Harry. ‘It’s looking very healthy.’ Earnest’s ears twitched at the sound of his voice, but he was soon purr-snoring again.
‘The next point is our initiative for Neurodiversity Celebration Week on …’ Lee tapped at his screen. ‘Eighteenth to twenty-fourth of March.’ He peered at Grace. ‘You’ve done a reading list of suggested titles, right?’
Grace sat up taller. She’d researched the reading list for all their affiliated book clubs carefully. ‘I have. It was interesting, actually. There were lots of books with ASD protagonists, like The Rosie Project and Eleanor Oliphant is Completely Fine, but far fewer with characters with ADHD.’
‘Why do you think that is?’ said Tracy.
‘Maybe because it’s not so well understood.
I mean, when Frank first mooted he thought Jude had it, I didn’t have a clue what he was talking about.
I had some pretty ignorant views, I’m ashamed to say.
That’s partly why I’m so keen to get the information out there.
’ She unfolded a piece of paper. ‘Anyway, I found a few with characters that have the traits, even if it’s not directly attributed to ADHD.
There’s One Moment by Linda Green, Demon Copperhead and a book called His Secret Wife.
I was glad to find lots of children’s books, like the Cally and Jimmy series, and The Boy with the Butterfly Mind, so it’s clearly being addressed from early on these days, which is heartening.
I’ve added a non-fiction list as well, in case people want to know more about it. ’
‘That’s great,’ said Lee. ‘If you can email that to me, I’ll send it out to the other clubs.’
The bell above the door jangled and Grace’s heart lifted as it always did when she saw Jude. Jasmine followed behind, carrying a tripod. ‘Sorry we’re late,’ said Jude.
‘You should get that tattooed on your forehead,’ said Crush.
‘I tried to get him here on time,’ said Jasmine, the exasperation in her voice tempered by the adoring way she looked at him.
‘For some unknown reason, the minute we’re meant to leave is always the same minute he remembers he needs to put the bins out, or …
book a hair appointment, which he’ll inevitably be late for. ’
Jude shrugged. He studied Grace. ‘You look lovely, Grandma.’
‘She does, doesn’t she?’ said Harry, with an expression not dissimilar to the one on Jasmine’s face.
Grace smiled, resting a hand on the silky material of the pale green dress she’d bought especially for today. ‘Thank you. I’m a little nervous, actually.’
‘Don’t be,’ said Jude, pulling a video camera out of his rucksack. ‘You’ll be brilliant.’
‘You’ve interviewed more than fifty authors for Desert Island Reads now,’ said Tracy. ‘You always knock it out of the park.’
‘But this one is different,’ Grace said. ‘I don’t want to mess it up.’
***
Fifteen minutes later, Grace was sitting on the sofa, a large ring light making the fabric of her dress shimmer. Earnest curled up next to her like a comforting mascot, and all her friends were watching from behind the camera.
Jude stuck his thumb in the air.
Grace took a deep breath and started to speak to the camera.
‘Hello, and welcome to Desert Island Reads with The Silent Book Club YouTube channel. I’m Grace Bray and today I’m bringing you something a little bit different.
’ She lifted Frank’s reading journals from the seat beside her.
‘These are my late husband Frank’s reading journals.
Those of you who’ve tuned in before will know Frank started The Silent Book Club here, at Books En Parade.
He never got to do a Desert Island Reads of his own so, with the help of these journals, I’ve prepared one in his memory.
He was a very well-read man, who believed reading for pleasure was one of life’s great joys.
He also thrived on connection and community, and through these journals and the wonderful members of his book club, he’s passed those joys on to me, and I couldn’t be more grateful. ’
Her voice wobbled. She glimpsed across at the faces of her friends and gathered strength to go on.
‘The first book I’ve chosen for Frank’s Desert Island reads is this, Anxious People by Fredrik Backman.
’ She held up a copy to the camera. ‘Frank loved everything about this book. He thought it was funny, poignant, and expertly plotted, and through reading Frank’s thoughts on this novel, I discovered some lessons he wanted to teach me.
You see, after Frank died, I was broken, and I was lonely.
I believed even trying to move on would be a betrayal of his memory.
But through reading the books Frank held so dear, I began to see that he would never want me to feel isolated or alone.
’ She dropped her eyes to the book’s red cover.
‘This book is about love, loneliness and grief, and it’s about the building of a community of disparate people who all have their humanity in common. ’
She looked directly into the lens. ‘And if there’s anyone watching this who’s grieving, please know that you are not alone.
’ She smiled. ‘You might not think it now, but there is life after loss.’ She leaned in and lowered her voice, ‘You might even find it in the most unexpected of places – a bookshop, for example.’ She sat back and gestured out to the room she had grown to love again and the people who made her life so much richer.
‘Where a group of people who were once strangers might just become the very best of friends. And you’re never really alone when you have one of these magical things with you, are you?
’ She lifted the book, kissed it then held it to her heart.