‘We loved the shop as well,’ Tash says gently. ‘But maybe now you can have a life too.’
‘You know all we want is to see you happy,’ adds his mum, giving his hand a squeeze. ‘My sweet, brave boy.’
Alfie is thirty-one years old but something about his mother’s words breaks him, because he hasn’t felt brave recently. He thinks back to the night of Harper’s wedding and the intoxicating high of the kiss, followed by the sobering effect of the news that Tilly was leaving. He knows he should have asked Tilly about New York himself, but he isn’t sure he can bear hearing her say the words out loud. Not when he’s been stupid enough to do the one thing he promised himself he’d never do after Freya: get close enough to get his heart broken all over again. He meant what he said to Tilly at the wedding. He would be OK with just being her friend, even if every time he saw her he’d be thinking about the feel of her lips against his and the sound she made as he kissed her, but itwouldbe enough. He wouldmake itbe enough, because he can’t stand the thought of not having her in his life.
And now she is moving thousands of miles away.
‘Maybe you’re right,’ he says. ‘Maybe it’s time for a new start.’
‘So, I think we’re all set,’ Tilly says, going over her long checklist.
‘I can’t believe it’s actually Christmas Eve tomorrow,’ says Blue.
Outside, the sky is a heavy grey, the street lit up with Christmas lights. The shop smells like pine from the tree Tilly lugged in a couple of weeks ago, Blue and Prudence helping her to decorate it. Since then, she has come into the shop every day. Working in a bookshop is even more exhausting than she could have imagined, her feet throbbing when she gets home. But she has loved it too, getting a rush of excitement every time someone buys one of her recommendations.
‘It’s going to be quite a day tomorrow,’ says Prudence, looking around. ‘If people actually show up, that is.’
The shop door has been locked and the three of them are slumped around the counter, a bottle of wine opened between them that Prudence brought, insisting they mark the shop’s penultimate day. Georgette sits with a proprietorial tail draped over the till. Tilly wonders what is going to happen to the cat once the shop closes. Alfie has always said that Georgette is a stray but Tilly can’t imagine her looking more at home anywhere else.
‘I really thought he might show up today,’ Blue says, taking a sip of her wine.
‘Me too,’ says Prudence. ‘I know this can’t be easy for him, but I worry he’ll regret it if he doesn’t come before it’s too late.’
As Prudence tops up their wine Tilly slips her phone out of her bag, typing a message to Alfie. They’ve shared a few messages over the past few weeks but nothing beyond a few words. She hasn’t wanted to push it. He’s made his feelings – or lack of them – clear. And perhaps a friend is all she needs right now, even if she can’t stop thinking about the feel of his lips against her neck.
Tilly:
Hey Alfie. I know you haven’t wanted to come into the bookshop and I understand why. But tomorrow is the last day and I really think you should be there. Prudence, Blue and Georgette need you. Book Lane needs you. I’ll be there and I really hope that you will too. x
‘We should probably get going,’ says Prudence.
‘Big day tomorrow,’ adds Blue.
‘Good idea.’
They all stand up, but as Tilly is about to reach for her bag beneath the counter the shop is plunged suddenly into darkness.
Georgette lets out a high-pitched miaow and leaps off the counter, her tail knocking the wine bottle. All three of them reach for it but no one gets there in time and it tips over, red wine spilling all over Tilly’s clipboard and list.
‘Shit!’
She looks around for something to stop the flow before it reaches the piles of books further along the counter.
‘Take this!’ says Blue, throwing a wad of tissues her way.
Tilly mops up the spillage and creates a barrier with the wet tissues, managing to divert the flow of the wine away from the books and on to the floor instead.
‘The lights are still on across the street,’ says Prudence, pointing towards the street outside. ‘I don’t think it’s a power cut.’
Using their phones as torches, they locate the fuse box at the back of the shop, but the room remains dark.
‘I’m going to call our electricity supplier,’ says Blue, digging about in some paperwork in the desk drawer, while Tilly and Prudence shine their phones in her direction so she can see what she’s doing.
Once Blue has managed to get through to someone, Tilly and Prudence work to clean up the rest of the wine.
‘Seriously? …’ says Blue in a tight voice. ‘What do we need to do? … And that will get our lights back on? … How quickly? … But we have a big event tomorrow … Come on, it’s Christmas!’
Georgette cries plaintively at their feet and Tilly scoops her up, bundling her into her arms.
