I don’t know how I’d have felt if he’d said no. If I had to wave him off on the train, remembering the way we first met. But that, I remind myself, is a problem for another day – for now, he’s here, and there is no need for goodbye. I know it’s coming, but it’s like a new diet or fitness regime – as long as it starts tomorrow, I can live with it. Besides, I thought we only had days left together, and now we have a whole summer.
Neither of us have discussed how hard it will be when that summer ends, and he’s probably not overthinking it like I am anyway. He’s a man, after all. Luckily, I’ve also been too busy to give in to any emotional overindulgence, and distracted by all the orgasms. It could be worse.
Two things are happening today, and I feel excited and nervous about both. The first is the official relaunch of the Edge of the World Bookshop, complete with a ribbon-cutting ceremony that Moira has insisted on, despite the fact that we’vebeen unofficially open for a while. It’s not necessary, but I think it’s as much a thank-you to the community as anything else. A way for Moira to say: ‘I’m back, and none of you need to worry about me any more.’
The shop is looking great, and Rosie’s teenager, Laurel, has helped me come up with an epic window display that reflects summer in Scotland. There are wildflowers and paintings and beautiful books, the whole window draped with strings of bunting that echo the colours of the bookshop and the nearby houses. I stand back on the cobbles admiring it, the sun warm on my skin and the waves rolling into the bay behind me.
I smile, thoroughly pleased with it. Brody has been up a ladder and retouched the paintwork on the wooden sign, and given the front door a fresh coat too. Inside, we’ve added a new rug in rich shades of plum and gold, and it looks amazing against the glossed floorboards. Each of the little nooks and alcoves now has at least one comfortable chair, some with tiny coffee tables and their own individual lamps. It’s definitely the kind of place I would love to hang out.
The children’s reading room is gorgeous, painted in bright primary colours and complete with heaps of bean bags, art supplies, and copies of books for kids of all ages. We’ve had a few young ones in already, and it’s warmed my heart, seeing them curled up in there turning a page instead of looking at a screen.
Today, the scent of Ginny’s candles fills the room, and vases of fresh blooms adorn the counter, so many that it almost feels like we’re in a meadow, not a building. All the books on display in the window are in stock, arranged in old wicker lobster creels in one corner – incredibly pretty, and ready to be featured on Instagram pages the world over.
I’ve sourced some gorgeous illustrations of mythical Scottish creatures – kelpies and selkies, boobries and brownies – and they hang in dark wood frames on the freshly painted deepgreen walls. It’s too warm for a fire, but we’ve filled the hearth with a display of some of Angus’s photos. We’ve also had them reproduced as postcards and greetings cards, which I know will be a hit. They’re beautiful, and I wish I could have met him.
There’s quite a crowd gathered outside, because Moira got an article about the shop featured in the local newspaper. They still read them here, and people have come from the nearby villages to see what all the fuss is about. There are also a lot of tourists, and frankly there’s not a lot else to do in a place like Bonnie Bay – a shop reopening is a big deal. Besides, Moira told us she enjoyed it so much last time a crowd was waiting outside the shop, she’s decided she might do it once a week.
‘Joanne reckons I’m addicted to the attention. She may be right. It’s a shame I can’t get up out of this chair and show them a wee miracle,’ Moira says, as we look out of the window.
Joanne is with her, staring at Angus’s photos with as much emotion as I’ve ever seen from her. ‘Aye. Well. Good Lord willing, ye will be before long. You’ve already taken a few steps.’
‘That I have,’ Moira concedes, then adds in a stage whisper: ‘My real motivation is getting away from her.’
I shake my head and laugh at their banter. It’s obvious how much they love each other, even if neither of them ever says it. It’s wonderful that she’s getting stronger, that she now spends so much time in the shop and in the village. She’s re-engaged with her old life, and I will always be proud that Brody and I played a part in that.
I ask her if she’s ready, and wheel her outside. The fishing boats are in, and all of them have added flags featuring a version of the bookshop sign. Xander got them made up, and they look great, rippling in the wind like a visual reassurance.
As soon as we’re out, Brody goes about the important business of attaching a tartan ribbon across the door. His face is a picture – when she told him what she had in mind, I think hisexact words were: ‘Why the hell are we wasting time and effort putting up a damn banner that’s only going to be there for two minutes?’
‘Och, men,’ Moira had sniped. ‘No flair for the dramatic! It’s a gesture, Brody. It’ssymbolic.’
‘It’s stupid is what it is,’ he’d grumbled, while Moira laughed behind his back. ‘The store’s been open for ages anyway… why the fuss?’
‘If you have to ask, you’ll never understand,’ she’d told him, giving him a pitying look.
Now the ribbon is up, fluttering brightly, and Moira has a pair of big scissors in her hand.
She waits until the crowd is quiet, and then begins her speech. ‘Ladies, gentlemen, and dogs,’ she says, casting her gaze about. Betty the spaniel is eyeing Brody with interest, and he stares back at her. Face-off.
‘Thank you all for coming. I appreciate your support, and the fact that you’ve all taken time out of your busy days to be here. Even Rory Callaghan has turned up, which is amazing when you consider the pubs are open, and he’s been so busy recycling his tequila bottles.’
Rory shakes his head, and everyone else laughs. He’s constantly mocked for being a drunk Irishman, the poor guy.
‘I need to thank my most glamorous assistants, Kate and Brody, who I think of as Beauty and the Beast. I’ll let you figure out which is which. I know it’s been a team effort, though, I very much value everything you’ve all done for me. I don’t know how much longer this place will be here as it is… but let’s enjoy it while it lasts, eh? Recently, I’ve taken to calling it the Hopeful Hearts Bookshop, and I do find that appropriate. Everything that’s happened here has lifted me, filled my heart, and very much made it hopeful. Now, without further ado andbefore I start blubbering, I’d like to ask my sister Joanne to come forward.’
Joanne looks shocked, her permanent frown deepening. ‘What for?’ she asks. ‘I cannae be doing with any of your nonsense, Moira!’
‘Stop arguing, woman, and come here!’
Joanne steps forward, muttering and glaring, her expression only softening when Moira passes her the scissors. ‘I’d like you to do the honours, Joanne,’ she says. ‘Because while everyone here has shown me kindness, you’re the one who’s done the most. You’ve done the hard labour, and put up with my moods. Without you, I… well. Enough said. Cut the bloody ribbon will ye?’
Her sister scowls, as you’d expect, but we can all see how pleased she is. She takes the scissors, and within seconds the ribbon is history. ‘There,’ she says defiantly. ‘Are you satisfied now?’
Moira declares that she is, and just like that, the Edge of the World Bookshop is officially reopen, in all its glory. I’m about to follow them inside when I notice Brody walking away, his big boots moving fast on the cobbles. He breaks into a run, and then scoops the young woman in front of him up into his arms, twirling her around like she’s a little girl.
This is the second thing happening today – Shannon, Brody’s daughter, visiting with her new boyfriend, Drew.
I give them a moment, feeling suddenly nervous, unprepared for meeting the most important person in his life.
