“I think I found what I was looking for,” she said, handing the book over to her as she popped out from behind a teetering stack.
“This book? Interesting. I would have guessed another for you, but the books know best,” she said with a curious smile.
“How much?” Nora asked, pulling out some money from her jacket pocket, hoping it would be within her price range. All the books in the shop appeared to be antiques, and if it happened to be a rare book, there was a chance she wouldn’t have enough money to buy it.
“No charge, my dear,” she said, waving her hand in front of herself in a stopping gesture.
“No, I should pay for it,” Nora insisted.
“I am the guardian of these books, and I can gift them as I choose. And today, I choose you,” the woman told her, taking her hand and placing the book into it.
It was at that moment that Nora noticed something in the old woman’s eyes that she hadn’t seen before. Behind her thick spectacles, the elderly woman seemed to possess two different colored eyes, one blue as the sky itself and the other as rich as newly turned soil. She couldn’t help but stare at them for longer than she probably should have. Finally breaking from her awkward gaze, Nora thanked the woman and carefully tucked the book into her jacket pocket.
As she walked over to the door leading out into the street, she paused, turning back and looking at the shop one final time. She wished she could have spent the rest of her day there getting lost inthe books, but she had a task to check off her list.
She stepped out into the crisp, cool air, only taking a few steps away from the shop before she had the urge to turn back around. Glancing over her shoulder, she realized there was no sign or name adorning the windows or the door of the bookshop.Peculiar, she thought. This place must have been a long-standing staple of the street, one that all the locals were sure to have known about, but only the luckiest of tourists stumbled upon it, much like she had. The more she looked at it, the more the old bookshop almost seemed to glow—not from the enchanting Christmas lights that surrounded it, but as if the old gray stones themselves had an almost blue hue that surrounded each of them. A shiver ran down her spine as she stared at it, the air around her tingling with an eerie chill.
Brushing aside the idea, she decided it must have been the snow, combined with the setting sunlight, causing the odd effect. With a mental shrug, she turned back around and continued up the street.
When she arrived back at the spot where she would recreate the photo, everything was perfect—the snow, the light, and, most importantly, the book. Nora was going to be able to stage the image almost perfectly. Locating the exact spot on the street where her grandmother had stood, she spotted the tour group just ahead and ran to catch back up.
“Hey, could I get you to take a photo of me?” Nora asked Lesley, the mother from the American family.
“Of course,” she said, taking the phone from Nora’s hand.
Posing just as her grandmother had, the wine bottle held high in one hand and the little red book in her other, tucked up next to her heart.
“Beautiful,” Lesley said with a kind smile as she snapped the shot, then handed Nora back her phone.
“Thank you. I’m trying to recreate a few photos that my grandmother took here in the forties.”
“What a fun idea. I love that!” She smiled at Nora and moved back to stand beside her husband, weaving her arm through his. The sight made Nora’s heart sink a little, and in that moment, she was reminded of just how alone she truly was here.
“And this here is our last stop, Royal Mile Whiskies, a great little shop for something to warm you up on your way home today.” Mairi laughed, pointing to a quaint whisky shop with large windows trimmed in gold and filled with bottles of different shapes and sizes. Its polished black doors and trim stood out in contrast to the large gray building it sat snugly below, giving it a dark masculine feel. The rich aroma of aged spirits wafted through the crisp air, igniting a lively discussion within the group about which distilleries they had booked tours with while in the country.
Distracted by her thoughts, Nora stepped away from the group to inspect the photo Lesley had taken. She was surprised to find it was almost identical to the cherished image of her grandmother. She smiled, knowing how much she would have loved it.
As the tour ended and the group began to disperse, Nora made her way over to Mairi to thank her before bidding farewell to Lesley. She left the group behind with a sense of anticipation stirring within her. She navigated her way back to her rental, eager to put her feet up, uncork the wine, and delve into the mysterious little book she had stumbled upon at the enchanting little bookstore.
Chapter Ten
Broken Bells
As Nora made her way back to her rental, the alluring scent of freshly baked bread captured her attention. It came from a small bakery across the street. Sporting a black-and-white striped awning and the name Mimi’s in large gold letters above its door, it called to her. Deciding to pick up a baguette to accompany the wine and a few scones for tomorrow’s breakfast, she crossed the street.
As she stepped inside the quaint little shop, the smells transported her straight back to Vermont, causing a very brief bout of homesickness to course through her. It faded quickly when she saw the bakery’s impressive holiday displays.
The shop was decked out in its full Christmas attire, with fresh garland wrapped in lights hung around the borders of the room and beautiful homemade gingerbread houses sitting alongthe counter like a little snowy village. Three displays of sugar cookies with intricate icing work, along with thumbprint jam cookies and gemmed fruitcakes dazzled Nora as she browsed the selections. The entire bakery could have come straight out of the North Pole with its festive cheer. Nora took mental notes on how to improve the displays at Belwether Bakery back home.
Walking up to the long counter, she looked down into the display cases with their rounded glass fronts. Large trays and pedestal plates filled the inside of the cases, each with a crisp black-and-white nameplate of things she had never heard of—empire biscuits, Scottish macaroons, Ecclefechan tarts, and millionaire’s shortbread, to name a few. Getting lost in the wide variety of sweets, she had almost forgotten what she had walked in for.
“Hello, can I get something for you?” a lanky teenage girl behind the counter asked.
“Hi, yes. Can you give me four of those amazing-looking gingerbread cookies, two scones, and a rosemary baguette?” She was unable to stop herself from indulging a little. Heck, that was one of the best things about being on vacation—calories didn’t count!
“You got it,” the girl said as she went about grabbing the items Nora had asked for and wrapping them up.
After paying and preparing to leave, Nora had the idea to capture a photo of the festive bakery to send to her parents and Eve. Just as she turned around and pulled out her phone, a set of large decorative Christmas bells hanging above the door suddenly came crashing down, landing mere feet away from her. The unexpected crash startled both Nora and the girl behind the counter so badly they simultaneously screamed as the bells let off a clang that reverberated off the tile floor.
