Maggie must have seen our look, because she gave an awkwardcough. “Good. Well, in that case, I think we should go outside to do the reading so there’s less chance of us being disturbed and Zoe losing concentration. Are you ready?”
I glanced down at the pages in front of me, filled with rows of messy handwriting, and felt suddenly sick. Was I ready? What if the stuff I’d written wasn’t realistic enough? After all, I wasn’t a proper writer, I was just… I swallowed, pushing the Fear—and Crispin—out of my head.
“I’m ready.”
The three of us headed outside and across the large lawn that stretched from the house down to the woodland below. A strong, icy wind whipped at my skin as we walked, and I shivered, wishing I was wearing something warmer than a thin T-shirt and jeans.
“Here, have this,” Nick said, and before I could respond, he’d pulled his sweatshirt off and handed it to me. I was about to refuse, but my teeth had started to chatter, so I put it on gratefully. It smelled of Nick, and I immediately felt calmer.
A distant roll of thunder filled the air as we reached the tree line, and Maggie swore under her breath.
“What’s wrong?” Nick asked her.
“This storm is new,” she said, stopping to look up at the sky, which was filled with swirling pale-gray clouds. “It’s always a clear autumn day at this point in the story, so something’s still not right. I feel like even with Darcy back on track, the three of us being here is affecting the plot too much, and it can’t cope.”
“It’s all right, we’re about to get out of here,” Nick said, giving me an encouraging look, and I felt my stomach twist, this time not in a delicious way.
“Tell me exactly what I have to do,” I said to Maggie.
“OK, so the difference between reading a character out of a bookand reading one back in is all about intention,” she said. “When I read someone out, I used to ask for their help in whatever problem needed fixing and then visualize them in the bookshop. Whereas when I read them back in, I would thank them for their help and then picture them in whatever scene in the book they came from. So for us, while you read your passage, I think you need to visualize the three of us being back in 2026 London in a specific place. Do you have one in mind?”
“Well, I wrote about all the people and places I love, but I think the most useful stuff is the bit at the end about Baskerville Books because it’s easiest to imagine you both there.”
“Great,” Maggie said. “The important thing is you have to really re-create the shop in your mind, so it feels as lifelike as possible. And whatever happens, don’t let yourself get distracted by any other thoughts. Even when the pain starts, you have to keep your mind anchored on us in the shop; otherwise we could end up goodness knows where.”
Oh God, I’d forgotten how painful this process was. As if I hadn’t felt anxious enough already, now I had the knowledge that I was about to be in agony added to the mix.
“You can do this, Zoe.”
I glanced up to see Nick looking at me, his face soft. He must have seen the absolute terror in my expression, as he pulled me into his chest, holding me tight. I closed my eyes and sent up a prayer to the universe.Please, dear gods or muses of literature or whoever was in charge of this strange book magic: Get us all home safely.
There was another rumble of thunder, louder this time, and I extracted myself from Nick’s hug, although he still held on to my left hand tightly.
“Start whenever you’re ready,” Maggie said. “We’ll be here with you the whole time.”
I swallowed, wishing I’d had a drink of water before I left the room. Then I took a deep breath and started to read.
“Baskerville Books looks unassuming from the outside, its front window tired and a little unloved, so you’d be forgiven for walking past. But if you open the heavy front door and step inside, you’ll find yourself in one of the most magical bookshops in London.”
As I read the words, I pictured Baskerville Books with its oak shelves and cozy chairs. I recalled the comforting, slightly musky smell of the shop and the way the sunlight streamed through the windows, illuminating the shelves.Please take us back there, I willed.
“The first person you’ll spot when you walk in is a tall, broad-shouldered man, with messy blond hair that you might want to run your hands through, a chiseled jawline, and a mischievous smile.”
I visualized Nick in the blue shirt he’d worn the first time I met him, the one that brought out the color of his eyes. I imagined the two of us in the bookshop together, bantering about books, and wished with every fiber of my being that we could be back there now. I felt a twinge low in my stomach, like a period-pain cramp, and my heart jolted.
“Nick likes people to think he’s a world-weary cynic who would rather chew his own arm off than read a book with a happy-ever-after ending. But beneath the gruff exterior, the man is a cinnamon roll, straight out of the pages of the romance novels he loves to hate.”
I pictured Nick watching me across the bookshop, his eyebrow arched as I said something, and felt another twist in my stomach, more intense this time. Next to me, I heard Nick take a sharp breath. Did that mean he was feeling the pain too? I sped up my reading, desperate to keep the momentum going and get us all out of here.
“Nick’s mum, Maggie, is the real brains behind Baskerville Books—the spark that makes the magic happen. From her small office at the back of theshop, she helps customers most-in-need realize the transformative power of a good book.”
I tried to imagine Maggie standing in the back room, her eyes full of life like they’d been in the photo on Nick’s desk. In front of her was a diary, like Ava’s one Nick had shown me, and I pictured her filling in the details from her latest reading.Please bring Maggie back where she belongs, I wished.Bring us all back. I braced myself, waiting to feel another painful tear in my stomach, maybe finally the one that would pull us all out of Jane Austen’s novel, but now I felt nothing. Somewhere behind me, I heard another crack of thunder, and I felt the wind whip my hair. No, stay focused, Zoe!
“Together, Maggie and Nick have created something truly special: a haven for book lovers, a balm for the brokenhearted, and a refuge for those lost and alone who need some much-needed hope.”
I closed my eyes, desperately trying to picture the three of us back in the shop together, but my stomach felt empty.
“Don’t give up,” I heard Nick whisper beside me, and I was suddenly aware of his hand, still clutching mine.
