Behind him he heard a crash, followed by his father’s dulcet Midland tones. ‘Which twit put that box there?’
With a sigh, Matt rose to his feet and walked round the corner to find the site of the latest disaster.
‘The twit would be me.’ He glanced at the books now spread across the floor, upended from their apparently unsafe perch in a box on the footstool.
‘Don’t know why you bother with all these damn books. Nobody’s going to read them.’
‘Possibly not.’ Matt crouched down and started to pick them up, slotting them back into the box. ‘But a bookshop isn’t much of a shop without them.’
‘Except then this would be a decent-sized café. Bloody sight more sensible use of a place on the beach.’
Matt had heard the argument before. In fact he’d been hearing nothing but that argument from his dad ever since he’d broached the idea of moving to the south coast and buying a bookshop. Never make money from selling books. Nobody buys books now, it’s all electronic. You’re more of a fossil than I am.
In the end he’d stopped arguing, but he hadn’t stopped looking for the right place. Not just for himself, but for his dad and his sister, too. A fresh start for them all.
Except a fresh start didn’t necessarily need a new place, it needed a new mindset. Something they were all still working on. Meanwhile, the shop, and the sprawling house with stunning Solent views he’d bought only a short walk away from it, would hopefully help.
The bell jingled again and Matt looked up at his dad. ‘Do you want to serve while I clear up here?’
His father grunted. ‘I told you when you bought the place. Do what you want, it’s your money, but don’t expect me to help.’
‘I don’t expect it.’ Hoped for it, yeah, he did that most days. ‘Just thought you might enjoy it now and again. Meet some of the locals.’
‘I can do that down the pub.’
‘And how many times have you gone there since we moved?’
His dad snorted. ‘How many times have you?’
The retort stung. He could put the blame on being busy with the shop, but the fact was, in the evenings he’d chosen the easy route and stayed in, just like his dad had.
‘Maybe we should all go out. Amy too.’ He made a mental note to suggest it when they got home. Part of that new mindset. Rising to his feet, Matt unconsciously bent his back a little when he realised he was towering over his dad. Somehow over the last thirty-three years he’d grown to be well over six foot, and his dad had shrunk a little. ‘I’ll go and see to the customer. Don’t worry about this lot, I’ll sort them out later.’
He walked towards the front of the shop, knowing full well his dad would be crouching down and picking up the rest of the books. The old dad, the happily married one who’d smiled a lot, had disappeared a year ago when his mum had died. This recently widowed version was, understandably, quieter, angrier, the sadness he always carried around with him painful to watch. He was, at core though, still Matt’s dad.
Once he’d sorted the customer out – See, Dad, he wanted to yell, this woman has bought an actual book, for actual money – Matt’s eyes strayed once again to the curly-haired blonde. She was chatting with two ladies who looked at least twenty years older than her. He wondered what they had to talk about that elicited so much … passion, he supposed, was the word. The blonde in particular, with her hand movements, the animated expression, frequent bursts of laughter, looked so happy, like she was really enjoying herself. Matt suddenly found he was envious. When was the last time he’d felt joy?
Chapter Two
Lottie pushed aside her empty plate – the cake had been a bit of a disappointment, too dry, but not dry enough that she’d left any. ‘Do you really think I should do this? Form a new book club?’
The thought sent a tingle down her spine – nerves? Excitement? Probably a bit of both. She wanted to do it, no doubt, but could she do it? You’ve set up a business, you can manage a book club. The thought settled her, though it didn’t stop the damn insecurities and their incessant poking.
‘Definitely,’ Gira answered.
‘Absolutely. And you’ve already got two members.’ Heidi leant across the table. ‘I’ve started reading the Jilly Cooper you mentioned, just in case.’
‘Then let’s do this.’ Lottie clapped her hands together, the excitement winning, pushing past the nerves. ‘God, I can’t wait to stick my nose into a rom com again. I missed all that passion with a giggle sooooo much. It’s been ages since I last read one.’
Gira looked at her questioningly. ‘Because you’ve been focused on Eve’s choices?’
‘Partly, but even before I joined her book club I’d stopped reading them.’ Memories flooded back, and Lottie felt the familiar ache in her chest. Less sharp now, it still hurt. ‘I was in love with this guy, Henry, but then he got a job in California. We decided it was better to split, agreeing the distance and time difference would make it impossible.’ Had Henry been The One, the love of her life, and she’d given up on him too easily? ‘Straight after he left, I found I couldn’t pick up a romance book without bursting into tears. It didn’t take long before I missed reading, though. That’s when I saw the advert for the library book club. I figured, what better way to help me forget my heart was broken than to meet up with like-minded book lovers and dive back into an imaginary world?’
Heidi smiled sympathetically. ‘When I got divorced, I had a phase when I threw all my romance books out. I didn’t want to read about happy ever afters. I told myself it was all sentimental poppycock and for a while I read nothing but thrillers.’
‘Only thrillers?’ Gira shuddered. ‘I’d have been a basket case. I love to read in bed, just before I go to sleep.’ Briefly a shadow crossed her face but then she seemed to shake it off. ‘I can’t do that with a thriller. Last time I tried, I had to drink chamomile tea, spray the room with lavender and check the doors were locked three times before I could relax enough to fall asleep.’
‘Weirdly, my thriller fixation actually got kind of boring,’ Heidi admitted. ‘I found I was reading about a gruesome murder and turning the page not to see who’d done it, but whether the cute detective and the hot lawyer got it together.’
‘Once a romance lover, always a romance lover.’ Lottie put down the mug she’d been drinking from. Decorated with two rows of pretty coloured books, she wondered if it was the choice of the shy girl running the café or the serious new owner. ‘Eve’s book club was really good at the start. I did meet new people,’ she grinned. ‘Like you guys. And it helped me forget how miserable I was for a while. I also got to try authors I would never have thought of reading. Even the discipline of having to read was good for me, like an enforced down time. But as the months rolled on, work became busier and my down time more precious. I found I didn’t want to spend the little free time I did have reading one of Eve’s chosen books. And then having questions fired at me afterwards. I know this sounds awful, but it started to feel like homework, and God knows I was never good at that.’
Heidi hooted with laughter. ‘Eve does have a headmistress vibe about her.’
While Heidi and Gira began to discuss what it was about the librarian that gave this vibe – her buttoned-up-to-the-collar blouses, the single strand of pearls – Lottie found herself glancing over Heidi’s shoulder to the till area, and Matthew. Her heart jumped when she caught him staring at them, his expression unreadable. She expected him to quickly look away but he surprised her by inclining his head in a brief nod. It could have said anything: Yep, you caught me staring… Sorry… Or it could even have been a dismissive gesture. Still, Lottie had a strange feeling he was silently applauding her for some reason.
The young dark-haired waitress came back to their table.
‘Is there anything else I can get you?’
Lottie looked at her name badge. ‘No, I think we’re good, thanks, Amy. Just the bill when you’re ready.’ As she turned to walk away, some instinct had Lottie aski
ng, ‘Were the mugs your idea?’
The waitress shrugged, a slight flush to her cheeks. ‘Kind of.’
Sensing she felt as if she’d been put on the spot, Lottie smiled. ‘It’s just we think they’re lovely. Perfect for this place, and for bookworms like us.’ She considered the young woman in front of her. ‘We’re going to start a book club and we’re looking for members. Are you into books?’
‘Not really. I mean, I read some at school.’
‘Ah, okay. I just thought as you worked here, you might be.’
Amy’s eyes darted towards Matthew, who appeared to be tidying up around the already very tidy till area. ‘Books are more my brother’s thing. He owns the shop.’
‘Oh.’ Lottie felt her jaw drop. It was hard to see any familial connection between the tall, broad-shouldered, brooding owner and this slight, shy, much younger woman. ‘That sounds pretty brave, working for your brother. I love mine to death, but no way would I want to work for him, which is probably a good thing, considering he lives in Australia now.’
A small smile tugged at Amy’s mouth. ‘Matt’s okay.’
Lottie glanced at the brother, who was now straightening the bookmarks. ‘I’m sensing he’s a bit of a neat freak?’ Amy let out an unexpected giggle that changed her face from quietly pretty to full-on attractive. The sound caused Matthew to look over at them. ‘Oops, I hope I haven’t got you in trouble.’
She shook her head. ‘Nah, he doesn’t shout.’ She flashed Lottie a smile. ‘He just sorts everything out the way he wants it after I go home.’
When Amy left, Heidi gave Lottie an appraising look, one that had Lottie hoping desperately she wasn’t blushing. Thankfully, instead of asking the question that was written across her face – Why the interest in the new owner? – Heidi simply smiled. ‘I wish I had a brother.’
Gira also looked amused. ‘Me too.’
Okay, she needed to get the conversation back on track. ‘Yes, I know I’m lucky. I just … well, I wish mine was closer, obviously. But not so close that I was working in the same shop as him.’ Crap, now she was rambling. ‘Anyway, back to our new book club. I thought the focus should be books that uplift, yes?’
‘And that can be easily picked up and put down,’ Gira added. ‘I usually only get to read at night, when I’m tired.’
‘Books that don’t take themselves too seriously, where the sun shines,’ Heidi waggled her eyebrows, ‘and the sex sizzles.’
‘God, yes.’ Lottie felt a ripple of forgotten desire. When was the last time she’d even thought about sex, never mind had it?
‘Beach reads,’ Heidi added excitedly. ‘That’s what we’re describing, isn’t it? Books we’d want to take on holiday with us.’
‘And books that take us on holiday.’ Gira, the quieter of the two women, looked at them both. ‘I don’t mean they have to be about beaches, but they take you out of your head. Transport you to another world for a while.’
Once again Lottie saw the shadow cross Gira’s features. She had an awful feeling Gira’s own world wasn’t a happy place right now. ‘Okay, so we’re all agreed? Beach reads.’ She felt a buzz of anticipation, a shiver of excitement. Grabbing her mug, she raised it aloft. ‘Here’s to the Beach Reads Book Club.’
Matt went about his usual end-of-day routine: straightening books on the shelves, sweeping the floor, sorting the cash register. Cleaning the loo.
Yes, he now spent a good part of every evening (except Sunday, when the shop was closed) wearing rubber gloves and wielding a toilet brush. There were people in his former life who would pay good money to see it.
Once everything had been done to his liking, he went to help Amy clean up the café. ‘We’ll need to get some help soon,’ he told her as he loaded the dishwasher, surreptitiously rearranging it as he went. Amy was bright and hard-working, but she had no clue how to stack a dishwasher efficiently. ‘I’m aware I’m working you too hard. I’ll stick another ad in the paper.’
The last ad for help in both the shop and the café had elicited a lukewarm response. A handful of potential candidates on paper had, on interview, translated into zero people he’d wanted working for him.
Of course, if he could persuade his dad to help out more, cover a regular morning or afternoon so he could catch up on paperwork – even better, a whole day so he could have a life outside the shop … Hell, maybe in the future a whole week so he could go mad and go on holiday. Assuming he could work up the enthusiasm for a solo adventure.
Turning on the dishwasher, Matt sighed. Right now, days off were a thing of fantasies.
‘I don’t mind working here.’ Amy shoved the clean mugs onto the shelf behind her. ‘There’s nothing else to do.’
‘I’m sure you can find something besides making tea and coffee.’
Amy just shrugged, a silent answer he was becoming increasingly familiar with. He and Amy had always got on, though the nine-year age gap meant they were never really close. As she’d started becoming interesting, a girl he could have a conversation with, he’d gone off to uni, and then to work and live in London. Trips home to Nottingham had been rare and fleeting. Now he, Amy and his dad were finding their way around one another. Not easy in a new town where they knew no one else.
‘I saw you chatting to that group of women today.’ The words were out before he could wonder why he’d noticed. And then been interested enough to mention it.
Amy looked nonplussed. ‘Isn’t that what I’m supposed to do? You said to smile and be friendly.’
Damn, he was desperately bad at this, actually communicating with someone beyond the surface pleasantries. ‘Both of which you always do.’ He dragged a hand through his hair and tried to order his thoughts. ‘What I meant was, it was the first time I’d seen you giggle.’ He smiled, hoping she’d see he was trying to break down the reserve between them. ‘I enjoyed it. I wish I could see you do it more.’
‘Yeah, well, maybe you would, if you’d not forced me down here, away from my mates.’ She slammed the last mug onto the shelf, causing a clatter as they all rattled into each other. ‘I’ll see you back at the house.’
Bugger it. Matt cursed as he watched Amy storm off through the shop. For the millionth time, he asked himself whether he’d done the right thing, dragging his dad and sister down to the coast with him to follow his dream.
Figuring he needed to give Amy some space, Matt stayed in the café. First, he turned the remaining mugs on the shelf so they all faced the same way. They’d scoured the internet for them. He’d insisted he wanted mugs appropriate for a bookshop. Amy had told him he was being ridiculous, it didn’t matter what they looked like. Then surprised him by leaping up in excitement when she’d found them. Next, he straightened the cutlery in their respective caddies and refilled the napkins. He knew it was all fine as it was, yet the actions helped to calm him. Gave his brain something else to focus on besides the perpetual, torturous guilt trip.
Ten minutes later, he walked through the front door of the house they’d moved into the month before. From the hallway he could see his dad pottering around in the kitchen making a mug of tea, and Amy sat on the sofa in the adjoining open-plan snug area, flicking through her phone.
‘I thought we should go out for dinner tonight,’ he announced, loud enough that they could both hear.
Amy didn’t respond, her attention still on her phone. His dad came out of the kitchen and stared at him. ‘It’s a miserable rainy Thursday and you want to go out?’
Actually, he didn’t. All Matt wanted to do was take a shower and curl up on his bed with the book he’d just brought home; yep, My Sister, the Serial Killer was in his pocket. He’d been meaning to read it for months now, and the refund had jolted his memory. Maybe a tiny part of him had also wanted to tell the blonde she’d missed out on a great book. If she ever returned to the shop. And if he could get it into the conversation without sounding like a prick.
His dad was still looking at him. Right, they were talking about going out
. ‘I thought it was time we tried the pub down the road.’
‘Well, if you’re paying.’ With that less than promising response, his dad turned back into the kitchen. Biting back a sigh, Matt followed him in.
‘Amy?’ She glanced up briefly, her hazel eyes shuttered. ‘Are you up for going to the pub to eat?’
‘Whatever.’
Maybe he should just forget it. No point forcing the issue. But then, before he knew it, another month would have gone by and he’d have achieved what, exactly, by bringing them here? ‘Right then, that’s decided. Let’s go.’
Amy’s head snapped up. ‘Now?’
‘Why not? I’m hungry and I could murder a pint.’
‘So what, we all have to do as you say?’
Matt briefly closed his eyes and counted to ten. ‘No, you don’t.’ Wearily he rubbed at the back of his neck. Ever since he’d raised the idea of them moving down here with him, he’d had to battle this. They’d moved grudgingly, not because they’d wanted a new start, like he had, but because his mum, in the last few weeks of her life, had begged them to look after each other when she was gone.
At the time, he’d genuinely felt moving to the coast would be good for all of them. Now he wondered if it wasn’t just a gigantic ego trip; a way to assuage his guilt, while ignoring their needs. Yet again.
His dad walked out of the kitchen and, to Matt’s surprise, came back with his coat on. ‘You coming, Amy?’
His sister looked over and sighed. ‘I guess.’
Matt squashed the urge to jump in the air, raise his fist and yell Yesssssss. Instead he gave his dad a small smile. ‘Thanks,’ he said quietly.
‘I’m not doing it for you. I’m doing it because the alternative is making my own tea.’
The Beach Reads Book Club: The most heartwarming and feel good summer holiday read of 2021! (The Kathryn Freeman Romcom Collection, Book 5) Page 2