‘Who are all those children?’ Radia wanted to know, pointing at the image of a small circle of kids, or rather the backs of their heads as they sat on the floor by the fire where they were huddled now. There was a woman in the armchair holding open a picture book and pointing at something on the spread pages.
‘That was Annika,’ Jowan explained. ‘She did a daily story time for the kids during her fortnight here a few years back. Nice thing to do during the holidays.’
‘They’re all children on their holidays?’ Radia said to herself more than to Jowan.
‘And some are locals. That tiny one is the eldest Burntisland boy,’ Jowan said, pointing, ‘and that’s the two eldest of Mrs C.’s grandkids, those ones there, in yellow, see?’
‘Story time at the bookshop,’ whispered Radia as though incanting a magic spell. Then she fell silent, peering all the harder at the little group.
Joy knew what her daughter would be thinking, no,fantasising. The look in her eyes showed it all. How much she longed for friends and fun activities like this. Maybe she could sign Radia up for some weekend clubs in whichever cities they’d be in next? She hadn’t learned much for certain in Clove Lore but she now knew she could allow Radia a little more freedom to mix with other people and the world wouldn’t come to an end because of it.
‘And that’s Jude and Elliot, of course,’ guided Jowan, pointing at another image showing the pair standing behind the counter on a summer’s day.
Elliot was stooping to get inside the frame beside Jude, who only reached up to his shoulder. Jude was beaming straight down the lens while Elliot looked directly at her. They were a cute, mismatched couple, but squashed together in the image with absolutely zero space between their bodies, they looked just as joined at the hip and dopily in love as Isolda and Jowan did in their wedding picture.
‘And that’s Alex an’ Magnús,’ said Jowan, directing their gaze to another image. ‘They brought this place back to life after the flood.’
This couple – him all shaven-headed and bearded, her with a huge grin and cascades of long, almost white, blonde hair – were wearing matching Scandi jumpers and standing in front of a window display of books hanging artfully by their spines on clear threads as if floating behind the glass.
‘She looks like a mermaid,’ decided Radia. ‘But that’s not taken here?’ she added, quite correctly.
‘That’s their very own bookshop in Reykjavík,’ Jowan told them. ‘First bookshop you can borrow in the whole of Iceland. Doin’ well, it is.’ This provoked a welling of misty tears and a big gulp in Jowan, which surprised Joy. He was proud of them, like they were his own kids.
‘They fell in love here an’ took the things they’d learned out into the world.’ He kept his eyes on the picture. ‘’Tis a romantic place, the Borrow-A-Bookshop.’
Joy’s eyes flicked to Jowan’s in alarm.
He knew, of course. They must all know, about her and Monty and the brief fling that had stolen all her common sense. It was clear from his expression there was something he wanted to say.
‘Radia?’ Joy said hurriedly. ‘Can you go get your backpack filled up? And I’ll need the passports out of the drawer in your room, please. Taxi’s coming after lunch.’
‘But Mum!’ Radia complained.
Jowan helped by lowering the picture frame out of view, leaning it against his armchair, signalling the fun was over.
‘And you can choose any books you’d like to take with us,’ Joy added. ‘Start with the pile by the big bed, OK?Oi Frog!’s a keeper, right?’
This was enough to get Radia moving, and she disappeared up the stairs calling Aldous, who bounded along in her wake.
‘Last morning, then, eh?’ said Jowan, picking up Charley fox from the floor where Radia had dropped him.
Joy began clearing their empty breakfast dishes. Jowan sprang up too and followed her through to the café kitchen.
Not wanting him to prod and probe, Joy reached for business talk instead. ‘You should have mentioned those pictures before. I could have scanned them and put them on the website.’
‘It’s not too late, you know?’ he said in a disconcerting way that told Joy he wasn’t referring to copying the images.
Her voice was pitchy when she said, ‘I’ve a photo scanning app on my phone, I could quickly—’
‘He’s been very quiet, you know?’ Jowan interrupted, his tone all urgent caution.
‘Who has?’ said Joy, mortified, focusing on rinsing the cups in the sink.
Jowan lifted a tea towel like this was his own kitchen, which, she supposed, it was. ‘He’s a good fellow, maybe not the boldest, or even the best at knowing his feelings, but he’s good where it counts.’
Joy listened, knowing it was all true.
‘I can’t ask anything else of you, I know that,’ Jowan went on gently. ‘And I don’t know the details of what happened, he’s been as quiet as a clam, but… please say goodbye, before you go. I’ve never seen him so pale. Like seasickness, it is.’
