The interior of the shop was painted a pale, pale pink with white shelving. It was double-fronted with huge bay windows on either side of the door, above which a cheery-looking brass bell was poised to announce customers.
The books were set out invitingly with many face-out on the shelves and there were enticing displays on a couple of tables near the front of the store. Armchairs upholstered in pastel florals were tucked away in cosy areas, inviting readers to relax and enjoy their time there. Each had a small table next to it and a brass reading lamp. Carrie could just imagine how charming it would be in the winter when the early nights drew in.
“I like the paintings,” said Poppy, running her hands gently over an exquisite drawing of what appeared to be an elven princess in the romantic fantasy section.
“They’re beautiful, aren’t they?”
Illustrations in the same style were all around the store, some large, taking up the side of a bookcase for example, and others as small as a single rosebud drawn on the corner of a table.
“And you used to come here when you were little?” Poppy checked.
“I did, though it was very different then,” said Carrie, feeling a wave of nostalgia.
“Are there any children’s books?” Poppy asked, looking around.
“Not in the shop,” Carrie said. “There used to be a kids’ section in that corner over there, but now the shop only sells books for grown-ups. If I know Auntie Mary, I bet she’s got some books you’d like upstairs though. Shall we go and see where we’ll be staying?”
“Definitely,” said Poppy, still staring around with wide eyes.
The door to the flat was at the back of the shop with a neat sign on it:Private. No entry. Carrie unlocked it to reveal a staircase. Another door at the top opened into a large room, the size of the shop beneath, combining a modern kitchen/diner and a sitting room. Two huge windows looked out over the street below. A bookcase lined the whole of one wall from floor to ceiling.
“It’s got a ladder like Belle swings on inBeauty and the Beast,” Poppy cried in awe. She immediately went over to have a go on it.
Carrie smiled. “Trust Auntie Mary,” she said.
There was a further staircase in the corner of the room. “The bedrooms are up there,” Carrie explained. “Why don’t you go up and see if you can guess which one is yours?”
Poppy nodded and went eagerly up the stairs, leaving Carrie to have a moment to herself in the living space, which was completely different to when she had stayed there as a child. Back then, it was three small rooms: a galley kitchen, a dining room and a sitting room. It was beautiful now, but she couldn’t help feeling just a little sad that it wasn’t the way she’d remembered.
She messaged her mum and aunt to let them know they’d arrived safely, sure they’d be worrying until they’d heard from them.
Peering out of one of the windows, Carrie’s heart lifted as she saw the sea. What was it about being here that made her feel so much more at ease?
“Mummy, Mummy! Come and see!” Poppy called and Carrie followed her daughter’s voice to the smaller of the two bedrooms.
“I love it!” said Poppy. She was sitting on a pretty antique single bed positioned underneath the window. The bed’s frame was iron and painted white. Poppy had a large book open in front of her. Wallpaper peppered with little blue flowers covered the walls and light blue curtains hung at the window which looked out over the garden at the rear. The oak floorboards were partially covered by a cheery rug and a sweet armchair was positioned beside a bookcase. Carrie went over to investigate. It was full to the brim with children’s books, everything from Harry Potter to Enid Blyton and Paddington Bear stories. Carrie itched to settle down in the chair and begin working her way through them, especially when she spottedBallet Shoesby Noel Streatfeild on the bottom shelf; she’d been obsessed with that story for at least a year when she was about nine.
She sat down on the bed next to Poppy. “What have you got there?” she asked, indicating the book her daughter was looking at.
Poppy showed her the cover.
“The Twelve Dancing Princesses,” Carrie read. “I believe this is the same edition I used to read when I stayed here.”
“Did you sleep in this bed?” asked Poppy.
“I think so. But when I used to stay here, there were two little beds that looked like this in here and Granny used to sleep in the other one. Aunt Mary and my Uncle Tom, who passed away before you were born, slept in the other bedroom. I do reckon it’s got a new mattress though. I remember the one I slept on was rather thin and lumpy,” said Carrie. “This one’s lovely. You’re going to be so comfy, you’re not going to want to get up in the morning.” She gave Poppy a hug, happy to be here with her, sharing memories and making new ones.
“I’m definitely going to want to get up in the morning because we get to be in charge of a bookshop and go to the beach!” said Poppy, making her mother laugh. “How come your Auntie Mary doesn’t live here any more?”
“Auntie Mary and Uncle Tom bought a house just on the outskirts of the town because Uncle Tom wasn’t very well and he couldn’t manage the stairs to the flat any more. She decided to stay there because she loves the big garden and so she could rent out this flat. I’m sure we’ll visit the house when Auntie Mary gets back and before we return to London. But now, let’s go and get the rest of our stuff in from the car and then we can get unpacked and decide what we want to get for dinner.”
“OK, Mummy,” said Poppy, getting off the bed.
They went back outside, finished emptying the car and lugged everything up the stairs. Putting their suitcases in their bedrooms, Carrie took a moment to take in her room. She couldn’t remember it from when she was small as she’d neverhad reason to go in what had then been her aunt and uncle’s room. Her bed was a larger version of Poppy’s and she was delighted to have a gorgeous sea-view from both the windows. The little fireplace with its painted tiles was charming. And, of course, there was a bookcase. She scanned it briefly and smiled: it seemed to contain so many of her favourite books from when she was younger —Jane Eyre,What Katy Didand theLittle Housebooks... How on earth had Auntie Mary found the time to curate a collection for her before she went away?
“Your room’s really pretty too,” said Poppy, coming in.
“It is,” Carrie agreed. She checked her watch. “It’s almost six, are you hungry?”
