Verity opened another door and stepped down into a tiny hallway where a wrought-iron staircase spiralled upwards. Opposite was the snug, which was just as homely as the first room. The walls were covered with framed pictures, and there was another beautiful open fire with an oak beam mantel, and gorgeous wall lights in antique brass with shades that matched the curtains. The small chesterfield was covered in throws and the plushest velvet cushions she had ever seen. Two cosy fabric chairs, a huge rug and a small table with a computer had been placed in front of the window. At the back of the room was an impressive bookcase that stretched from floor to ceiling, filled with books.
Verity wandered towards it and ran her finger along the spines of the books. She was impressed. Sam had all the classics as well as fiction in different genres and numerous books on Puffin Island, which she assumed were written by local authors. She pulled one out. It was all about the history of puffins and included details of the puffin census that went back years. There was another book on the history of the island and its local trades. Taking it from the shelf, Verity sat down on the settee and flicked through the pages. There before her eyes was a photo of Joe Wilson, branded the youngest yet most competent fisherman on the island. His resemblance to Sam was uncanny; there could be no doubt he was his grandson. Their facial features were very similar, and they had the same wild hair and rugged good looks. She thought about what Sam had told her about his grandparents. It must have been difficult back in those days. Not only were they very young but for the relationship to fall apart and the two to go their separate ways when there was a child involved… Even in her own generation Verity knew numerous couples that were far from happy but stayed together for the sake of their children, and because splitting up would mean financial ruin. Fortunately, when she split up with Richard there were no children involved and the house belonged to her. And, as he never made any financial contribution to the upkeep, he had no claim on it whatsoever.
Closing the book, she stood up and slipped it back on the shelf.
‘Oh my gosh,’ she said out loud. She took a step back and scanned the bookcase from top to bottom. Her granny’s stories had been so magical that she’d even convinced Verity that this cottage had a secret door leading to a secret sitting room, and that door was opened by a book in the bookcase. Very Harry Potter. Maybe her granny should have written children’s books for a living. Verity remembered it very clearly. Her granny had told her that the book was on the second shelf from the top, third from the right, and apparently when you pulled it out a switch caused the bookcase to swing open. She chuckled to herself as her eyes skimmed the bookshelves. ‘I mean, who has secret rooms behind bookshelves?’
There it was, the second shelf from the top, third book on the right. ‘Surely not,’ she said with a smile, knowing that secret doors only happened in the movies. But something made Verity look at the book in question. She was amazed to see it was the same book she’d bought from the bookshop only yesterday –Pride and Prejudice. Reaching up she took the book off the shelf, disappointed for a moment when the bookcase didn’t swing open as her granny had told her.
ThisPride and Prejudicewas an earlier edition than hers, but in immaculate condition. Opening it, she read the inscription.
To Joe,
A little something to mark the summer we’ll never forget.
Love always,
Hetty x
Verity’s mouth fell wide open, recognising the familiar handwriting before she’d even read the signature.
‘Granny,’ she murmured with instant excitement. ‘Wow!’ She couldn’t take her eyes off it. This was proof! This book connected her grandmother to Joe, and so the postcardhadto be from him. With a pounding heart she carefully flicked through the pages hoping for more clues. She couldn’t wait to show Sam, and willed him to hurry back from his shift, wondering if he knew about the writing inside the book.
And what is your secret?Verity knew if her granny had kept that picture hanging on her wall for years, the bond between her and Joe must have been a special one, though she couldn’t help wondering how her grandfather fitted into the equation. But the main thought that was running through her mind was whether her granny might have told her those stories in so much detail – especially the part about the bookcase – because she wanted her to come to Puffin Island and discover something else? Was it just a coincidence that the book she’d inscribed to Joe was in the exact place she had described? Verity wasn’t sure, but she felt sure there was more to discover about her granny’s visit to Puffin Island. At that moment she made the decision to stay longer on the island. Having been close to Joe, Betty was Verity’s best hope to shed more light on the situation. If she had anything to share, Verity wanted to hear it first-hand.
Laying the book on the settee, Verity stood on tiptoe and groped around for a switch. Finding one, feeling a thrill, she pressed it. There was an instant whirling sound and the bookcase began to move.
‘No way!’
As she watched in amazement, the bookcase revealed a normal doorway. She stepped into the room and took in her surroundings. It was a comfy office space with a small desk, a computer and a comfy-looking sofa covered in a soft woollen throw. On the wall was a map of the island, showing every building, and to the side a list of all the residents. There was a photograph of The Sea Glass Restaurant on opening night with Sam cutting a ribbon. He hadn’t changed much at all, his hair maybe a little shorter and less wild. On the far wall hung a number of guitars, along with photos of Sam sitting behind a microphone with a guitar on his knee. A number of them showed Amelia and Clemmie standing alongside him.
Verity wondered what it would be like to live within such a small community where everyone knew everyone. She’d barely ever spoken to her neighbours and though she made a point of saying a cheerful hello if she passed someone on the street, she generally didn’t receive more than a grunt back, if she wasn’t ignored completely. She’d often wished she had a local pub where she could wander in on her own, feeling comfortable chatting to all and sundry. The friendship she’d witnessed between Clemmie and Amelia was something she’d often wished for, a friendship close to home, a place where you could share all your news and go for walks and grab a coffee.
The window of the office looked out on to Lighthouse Lane and right outside was an old-fashioned-looking lamppost that resembled something from a Disney movie. The stream was bubbling away towards the harbour and the sun was beginning to shine down on the day. Feeling exhausted, Verity pulled back the throw and climbed underneath it. Resting her head on the cushion, before she knew it, she’d fallen asleep.
* * *
What seemed like only seconds later was in fact quite a few hours. Woken by a loud clang, Verity opened her eyes to find she was being watched by another pair of eyes, huge ones that were firmly fixed on her. ‘Good morning, Jimmy!’ As soon as Jimmy heard her voice his tail wagged furiously, then he sat back on his hind legs with his front paws stretched out and woofed playfully.
‘No, Jimmy!’ But it was too late. Jimmy launched himself at her and began licking her face. Quickly bringing the throw up to shield herself, Verity managed to wrestle him and push him off before he woofed again and bounded out of the room, soon returning shaking a toy in his mouth.
Smiling, Sam walked into the room behind the pup and handed her a mug of coffee. ‘I see Jimmy’s found you and you’ve discovered the secret room.’
Verity shot up right. ‘I can’t believe it. The switch was exactly where Granny said it was.’ Her voice was full of excitement. ‘And there’s more…’ Verity threw back the throw and hurried to retrieve the book that was still lying on the sofa in the next room. She bounded back, as excitable as Jimmy, and thrust the book into Sam’s hand.
Sam pointed. ‘You know you can just push the door open?’
‘And where’s the fun in that when you have secret switches to open doors? And never mind that. Look!Pride and Prejudice!’
‘Pride and Prejudice, arguably one of the greatest romance novels of all time. The opinionated heroine, Elizabeth Bennet, frequently finding herself at odds with her beau, the uptight Mr Darcy.’
‘A man in touch with the classics, very impressive.’
‘You look like you’re about to combust.’
‘This book was in the place of the secret switch. Now open it! That’s definitely my granny’s writing. Have you seen this before?’
‘These classics were all boxed up in the attic. I stumbled across them about ten years ago and dusted them down. I didn’t even check inside them.’
