‘Uh,’ Harri managed, ‘home is wherever we happen to be.’
‘Pft!’ objected William before drinking his tea.
Annie watched as Harri’s shoulders slumped. ‘Okay, I don’t really think that. I have the worst case ofhiraethwhenever I’m away from Wales.’
This made Annie lift her eyes from her cup. The Welsh word had been a familiar one back in Aber. She hadn’t heard it in years. ‘Homesickness?’
Harri nodded. ‘Only, I haven’t felt it quite so much since I came here.’
‘That’s the Clove Lore magic,’ said Jowan, dunking his shortbread before taking a sopping, melty bite. ‘Mmm,’ he chewed. ‘Though I’ve never left hometofeel homesick, but I did feel something very much like it, I reckon, for my Isolde. Still do, and yet here I am, at home.’ He looked around his bookshop. ‘An’ I wouldn’t be nowhere else on this great globe.’
To Annie’s surprise the usually reticent William nodded at this, as though homesickness for Nicholas and not the old castle explained precisely how he felt.
This set Annie thinking. There was a strong tug within her to get back home, but it wasn’t driven by the wish to see her family as such, but to get to work. It had been building ever since Cassidy told her about the changes at the library and the growing resistance to the book bans.
She realised Harri was watching her now, something questing in his eyes. ‘First thing I’m gonna do is hitBuc-ee’sfor a brisket sandwich and their glazed pecans,’ she blurted, knowing he was expecting something on the topic of her impending homeward journey. ‘With Cassidy, of course,’ she added.
Harri smiled thinly, and she thought, a little sadly. She wished she hadn’t spoken so glibly. Leaving here, leaving Harri was going to be far tougher than the first time she left him, back at uni. She let her eyes drop to the mug in her hands. ‘I wish I could stay hereandgo home,’ she said, before realising that was stupid and she laughed at herself.
‘I hear you,’ Harri said quickly.
After that there didn’t seem to be anything pressing to say or do, and everyone fell to watching the fire and letting the warmth and sweetness of a dark afternoon in their bookshop seep inside of them. Annie closed her eyes, trying to absorb it, willing the comfort of being here with Harri and her new friends and all these wonderful books to stay locked within her. She’d need the strength of it when she was alone again, jetting across the Atlantic, steeling herself to face her community – and her adversaries.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Counting Down
Austen Archer beamed through the glass door of the bookshop the next morning. When Annie let her in, she brought with her the force of a whirlwind, she was so enthusiastic in her mission.
‘Right, you two!’ she said, as Harri emerged from his room pulling on a brown cardi over a t-shirt. ‘I’ve been sent to give you this.’
Austen forced a basket into Annie’s hand. ‘I’m on the rota for today. You’re going out. See some sights. It’s a booksellingholiday, remember?’
‘I’ve still not seen this volunteer rota everyone keeps going on about,’ Harri replied, ‘but I don’t mind the idea of a day out of the shop, if you don’t?’
Annie was already reaching for her slouchy bag, making sure she had her book and phone. ‘I’m in,’ she said.
As much as she adored working in the shop, the thought of leaving on Saturday had brought a sense of urgency. She hadn’t seen much of Clove Lore and she’d arrived under a cloud worrying about Cassidy. Now that was resolved, she wished she’d enjoyed herself more. Who knew when she’d next be taking a vacation? Money could well be scarce when she got back to Texas, if she couldn’t keep her position at the school library. If things got worse, not better.
‘Bella’s walking William up from the Siren in a bit, so I’ll have him helping, and I’m doing the poetry session at four, so there’s no need to hurry back. Oh, but if you bump into Mrs Crocombe or Bovis on your travels, can you ring the shop and I’ll let everyone know?’
‘They’re still not around?’ said Harri.
‘No sign of them. Even I’m getting worried,’ Austen replied, seemingly surprised at herself. ‘Anyway, off you go. The Clove Lore estate gardens are always open. The big glasshouses are pretty at this time of year. And they’re heated.’
This was all the prompting Annie needed to carry her out of the shop, up the slope and to the ticket kiosk at the entrance gate to the Big House estate where Izaak waved her and Harri through without asking for any money. He also asked if they happened to have seen Mrs Crocombe on their way here. It seemed everyone was on the lookout for the old matchmaker.
‘She can’t have gonemissingmissing, can she?’ Annie asked Harri as they made their way across the dewy, misty lawns of the Big House.
Harri didn’t seem too worried. ‘I think folks in Clove Lore can’t stand it when they don’t know everyone’s business twenty-four-seven. If one of your neighbours back home wasn’t spotted for a day or two, would you even notice?’
Annie’s neighbours’ houses were a hundred yards from her parents’ place in both directions down an unwalkable road. She’d have no clue where her neighbours were at; couldn’t recall the last time she’d even seen them.
‘Exactly,’ said Harri, noting her silence. ‘So,’ he cast off the subject, ‘what’s the basket in aid of?’
‘Oh, yeah.’ Annie lifted the bright yellow wicker basket so she could prise open the cloth-wrapped bundle inside, revealing heart-shaped cookies, wrapped sandwiches – also cut in the shape of love hearts – and two bottles of chilled peach tea. ‘A picnic,’ Annie confirmed. ‘AValentine’spicnic.’
If Harri thought it was yet more meddling, he didn’t show it. ‘Austen made it?’
