‘About two-thirds of my stock will be used books, a lot of which I’ve collected over the years. Since I was a kid, really.’ The tips of his ears burned. The storage shed he’d rented in St. Austell was crammed with over fifty boxes of books, everything fromThomas the Tank Engineto the complete six-volume set ofThe Second World Warby Winston Churchill. ‘There’s a heavy bias towards military history, because that’s my particular fascination. That will hopefully bring in customers from all over, too. We’re a persistent lot and always searching for that elusive title.’ As usual, talking to fellow booklovers helped him to loosen up.
‘Yeah, Nathan would sell the house — and probably offer me along with it — for a first-edition du Maurier.’ Melissa gave a throaty laugh. ‘Until then he has to make do with sighing over Evelyn’s collection.’ She pointed to the elegant older lady with snowy-white hair falling flatteringly to her shoulders, who perched on a stool by the fire.
‘They’re exaggerating, Mr Bennet.’ Her lips were painted the same arresting bright pink as her polo-neck jumper. ‘I happento have a few volumes because my mother worked for Lady Browning at Menabilly and Daphne rather took me under her wing.’ Evelyn’s piercing stare bored into Gage. ‘And before you ask, they’re not for sale.’
‘I wouldn’t—’
‘Maybe not, but it’s best to be clear about these things.’ Her clipped tones were uncompromising. ‘You are most welcome to come and see them anytime you like. I’d be more than happy to introduce you to the delights of her incomparable writing if you’re not familiar with it.’
‘That’s very kind and I’ll definitely take you up on the offer. I’ve never read any of her work.’ Gage met her sharp eyes, and something passed between them. It was as if she sensed he was struggling and wanted to offer a lifebelt.
‘In case you hadn’t guessed, Evelyn taught at the village school and was its headteacher for many years.’ Melissa’s eyes shone. She leaned across and touched Evelyn’s knee. ‘She’s intimidating to all, right?’
‘Stuff and nonsense. You’re perfectly capable of standing up for yourself. You’ve proved that. Don’t pay any attention to them, Mr Bennet.’
‘Call me Gage, please.’
‘And deprive myself of imagining you as father to the five Bennet girls inPride and Prejudice? Absolutely not!’
Evelyn’s throaty laugh took him by surprise. There was a huge sense of fun under the somewhat austere façade.
‘As young Melissa hasn’t thought to introduce him yet, this is Professor Quinten Moore, my companion.’
The silver-haired man sitting by her stuck out his hand and Gage leaned over to shake it.
‘Companion makes me sound like a lapdog, or a gigolo.’ Two dimples appeared in Quinten’s plump, pink cheeks. ‘Rather flattering at my age.’
‘What am I supposed to call you? “Boyfriend” is ridiculous. You’re seventy-five and I’m seventy-four, for heaven’s sake. “Partner” implies we live together, which we don’t and—’
‘Why don’t we?’
‘What are you asking?’ Evelyn sounded puzzled.
‘You know how much I care for you, so—’
A slow swelling ringtone, Beethoven’s Fifth if Gage wasn’t mistaken, started playing, and Evelyn fumbled in the black leather bag by her feet to pull out her mobile.
‘My goodness, it’s my sister ringing from France.’ All the colour left Evelyn’s face. ‘Sorry, but I’d better answer in case something’s wrong.’
Gage sensed someone standing behind him and turned as Tamara rested her hand on the back of his chair and bent down to whisper in his ear.
‘Did I miss something?’
‘I might be wrong, but I think Professor Moore almost proposed to your friend.’
Tamara squealed.
‘Of course, Ophelia. You’re welcome for as long as you like.’ Evelyn threw a despairing look Quinten’s way. ‘When are you coming? Tomorrow! I’ll be at the station to meet you.’
After the call ended, no one spoke for a while.
‘That was a surprise. My younger sister, Ophelia, is moving back to the village.’ Evelyn’s bright, positive vibe was at odds with her blank expression. ‘None of you are old enough to remember her because she’s lived in Saint-Malo for about forty-five years. I’m not sure why yet, but she needs a home so she’ll be living with me for the foreseeable future.’ Her wistful look rested on Quinten.
‘Is that good news?’ Tamara asked.
‘We shall see.’ Evelyn’s tart response made it clear she wasn’t discussing the subject any further. As she eased off the stool,Quinten sprang up too. He picked up a deep purple cashmere shawl from the table and wrapped it around her shoulders. ‘Quinten, I believe I’d better go home alone tonight.’
The poor man looked as though he’d been slapped, but did his best to collect himself and hurriedly expressed his complete understanding. He jammed a jaunty black fedora on his head, said his goodbyes and left.
