The Book Lovers

by Victoria Connelly

  She’d just turned to leave when she heard a voice behind her.

  ‘Hello. Can I help you?’

  It was a woman’s voice and Callie turned to see an attractive woman in her mid-thirties. She had long dark hair tied back and her skin was porcelain-pale. Deep, expressive eyes looked directly at Callie and she couldn’t help thinking that there was something other-worldly about the woman; she had an aura of vulnerability that was wholly compelling. But it was rude to stare and Callie switched off her writer’s inquisitiveness and focused on her mission.

  ‘I was hoping to see Sam,’ Callie said, her voice sounding weird and croaky.

  ‘He’s just popped out,’ the woman said. ‘He shouldn’t be long. Can I help with anything?’

  ‘No, no,’ Callie said. ‘I’ll wait for Sam.’

  The woman smiled. ‘I’m Polly,’ she said, coming forward and shaking her hand.

  ‘Oh! You must be Sam’s sister,’ Callie said, noticing the family resemblance.

  ‘That’s right.’

  ‘You’re the one who came up with the lovely phrase on the bookmarks.’

  Polly smiled. ‘I’m glad you like it.’

  ‘I’m Callie,’ she said, watching as Polly’s eyebrows rose a fraction.

  ‘Callie Logan?’

  ‘Yes,’ she said.

  ‘We heard you’d been into the shop,’ Polly said, making her wonder just how many people the word “we” referred to.

  ‘Occupational hazard,’ she said. ‘It’s physically impossible for a writer to walk by a bookshop without going inside.’

  ‘That’s good to know,’ Polly said. ‘So how is Suffolk suiting you?’

  ‘Great. I like the peace and quiet,’ Callie said.

  ‘It’s quiet all right,’ Polly said. ‘I live in a village just outside Castle Clare and there’s nothing but quiet there.’ They smiled at each other. ‘I’m afraid we’ve not tracked down that first edition you were after yet.’

  ‘Oh, please don’t think I’m hassling you about that,’ Callie said. ‘I just wanted to speak to Sam. About something else.’ She could feel her face heating up with embarrassment and she was mightily relieved to hear the sound of the bell above the door as Sam returned.

  ‘Callie!’ he said in surprise.

  ‘Hello,’ she said.

  He looked at her and then at Polly. ‘I see you’ve met my sister,’ he said.

  ‘Yes!’ Callie said.

  ‘Callie’s slowly working her way around our entire family,’ he told Polly. ‘She’s met Grandpa, Josh and now you.’

  ‘She’ll have to pop across the road and meet Bryony,’ Polly said. ‘She’s dying to meet you!’

  ‘Is she?’ Callie asked.

  ‘She said she’s ordered a box of your books and she’ll be hoping you’ll sign them for her,’ Sam said.

  ‘I’d be happy to,’ Callie said, and an awkward silence descended upon the three of them.

  ‘I’ll go and make some tea,’ Polly said after a moment. ‘Callie?’

  ‘No, thank you,’ she said, waiting until Polly had left the room.

  ‘I’m afraid we haven’t got your book yet,’ Sam said.

  ‘I know,’ Callie said quickly. ‘I didn’t come about the book.’

  ‘No?’ Sam said, his dark eyes filling with surprise.

  Callie anxiously twisted a ring on her right hand as she summoned up the courage to say what she had to say.

  ‘I’ve been wanting to apologise to you,’ she said at last.

  He frowned. ‘But it should be me apologising to you,’ he said. ‘I shouldn’t have hounded you like that.’

  ‘You didn’t hound me,’ she said. ‘I completely overreacted and it’s been bothering me ever since. I just–’ she paused. ‘I just wasn’t expecting it.’

  ‘I know,’ he nodded. ‘It was unfair of me to put you in that situation when we’d only just met.’

  ‘It’s not that,’ she said, holding his gaze. ‘I – well – I’ve just got out of a bad relationship. A marriage, actually.’

  Sam gave a tiny smile. ‘Me too,’ he said.

  ‘Really?’ she said, her eyes widening.

  ‘Really.’

  ‘I’m sorry.’

  ‘Don’t be,’ he said. ‘It was all for the best.’

  ‘Mine too,’ she said in a quiet voice. ‘Didn’t make it any easier, though.’

  ‘No,’ Sam said.

  ‘And I think I’m still getting my head around things which is probably why I was so rude when you–’

  ‘You don’t have to explain,’ he told her.

  ‘But I do,’ she said. ‘I want to. You’ve been nothing but kind to me and I’ve really enjoyed all our conversations about books.’

  ‘Me too,’ he said.

  ‘And I’d like to be friends,’ she said. ‘I really would.’

  Sam nodded. ‘Me too,’ he said again.

  Callie breathed a sigh of relief. ‘Great,’ she said.

  ‘So we’re good?’ he asked her, his smile stretching across his face. She liked his smile.

  ‘We’re good,’ she said.

  ‘Well, as my newest friend, I wonder if you’ll take a look at this for me?’

  Curious, she followed him to the counter where he picked up an A4 piece of paper and handed it to her. She read it and looked up at him.

  ‘It’s the book club you mentioned,’ she said.

  ‘Aha,’ he said. ‘You think it’s a bad idea, do you?’

  ‘Oh, no,’ she said. ‘It’s just–’

  ‘A lot of admin?’ he said.

  Callie laughed. ‘I was going to say that it could be a lot of aggro. I joined one when I was in London and it was fine to begin with, but it became more and more competitive.’

  ‘Do you mean in the choice of books?’

  ‘Oh, no,’ Callie said. ‘We met in people’s homes, you see, and it was agreed that the guest house would provide tea and coffee and maybe a bowl of crisps or some scones or something. Anyway, each month, things got more and more elaborate with gourmet food being laid on and expensive floral decorations everywhere. The focus didn’t seem to be on the books anymore but rather on who could outdo all the rest with their decor and their catering. One woman even hired a butler to serve drinks.’

  ‘No way!’ Sam said incredulously.

  ‘I’m not joking,’ Callie said. ‘It all got too much for me.’

  ‘I’m not surprised,’ he said. ‘Well, if I promise not to hire any butlers and serve nothing more than a few ginger biscuits, will you come to ours?’

  Callie smiled. ‘I’d be happy to.’

  It was then that Polly walked through with two cups of tea.

  ‘Callie’s going to join our book club,’ Sam told her with a grin.

  ‘Oh, good,’ Polly said. ‘I was beginning to worry that it was just going to be me and Sam sitting in a room on our own together.’

  Chapter 9

  Six o’clock seemed terribly early to be going out to dinner, but Callie reminded herself that she wasn’t in London anymore and that maybe things were done differently in the country. Maybe everybody went to bed much earlier and got up when the cock crowed or something, especially somebody like Leo, who seemed to be so in tune with the natural world.

  Still, as she peered out of her bedroom window to see if his old Land Rover was in sight, she couldn’t help wondering what the evening held in store for her. For one thing, she had absolutely no idea where they were going and that caused a problem in the wardrobe department. She was pretty sure that he wasn’t the sort to try and wow her with a posh restaurant, but how much should she dress up? It was impossible to know. Should she go all out in the pretty lace-trimmed dress she’d bought from her favourite little boutique in London or should she play it safe with a pair of smart trousers and a jacket?

  There were so few opportunities for a writer to get dressed up, she thought to herself as she opened her wardrobe. Usually, she would spend the day alone, wearing a
practical pair of jeans or a tracksuit bottom and an extra large jumper or baggy cardigan. Sitting at a desk all day made one feel the cold and so Callie had learned to counter this with layer upon layer of unflattering clothes. Leo had already seen her in one of her infamous writer’s ensembles, she thought, mortified by the memory. It was one of the reasons why she wanted to get dressed up tonight: she wanted to banish that appalling image from his mind.

  Her hand hovered over the lace-trimmed dress as the thought sank in that she wanted to look attractive for this man. Why was that so important to her? Was this a date? Or was it just two new friends getting to know each other a little bit better? More importantly, was Leo thinking of it as a date?

  She really couldn’t remember the last time she’d been on a date. It must have been with Piers before they’d got married. The early days had been good; he’d made time for her then, impressing her with expensive restaurants and dress circle seats at West End theatres. They had been wonderfully exuberant, extravagant dates, but Leo was definitely no Piers and she liked him for that precise reason.

  She was just putting on her lace-trimmed dress when her phone beeped. It was a text from Heidi.

  Hi Gorgeous! Seen anymore of the wild man of the woods? x

  Callie grinned. It was as if Heidi could sense what was going on even though she was a hundred miles away. Callie texted her back.

  Going out to dinner this evening!

  OMG! the reply came back. I am soooooo jealous! Send him my love! x

  Callie shook her head at Heidi’s response and knew that she would now be plagued with calls and texts from her friend until she’d found out what had happened.

  And what was going to happen? Heidi had encouraged her to have a fling, but she knew she wasn’t ready for that. Still, she couldn’t deny the fact that Mr Leo Wildman was a very interesting man, and the fact that he was also easy on the eye was a wonderful bonus.

  She had to admit to being a little nervous about the evening that lay ahead of her, but she comforted herself that she was only going out for a few short hours and that she would be back in the safety of Owl Cottage before she knew it.

  The front door knocker sounded and Callie knew that it was time to put her misgivings firmly on the back burner and, instead, focus on enjoying the evening ahead.

  When she opened the door, Leo was standing there wearing a striped shirt under a tweed jacket which was a definite step up from the tatty wax coat she was used to seeing him in, but it hinted more of dinner at a cosy local pub rather than at a restaurant. Callie suddenly felt ridiculously overdressed.

  ‘Oh, dear,’ she said. ‘Should I change?’

  ‘No, no,’ he said lightly. ‘You look great. Come on.’

  He’d left his Land Rover running and opened the door for her and she climbed in. It was a long way up when you were wearing a dress and Callie was beginning to wish that she’d opted for a practical pair of trousers. Still, it was too late now.

  ‘You okay?’ Leo asked, flashing her a smile as she did up her seatbelt.

  ‘Good, thank you.’

  ‘I’ve been looking forward to this,’ he said.

  ‘Have you?’ she asked in surprise.

  He nodded. ‘We always seem to be meeting in passing, don’t we? Or when somebody else is around.’

  ‘I suppose we do,’ Callie said.

  ‘And I’d like to get to know you without any of that other stuff going on.’ There was a pause. ‘Is that okay with you?’

  Callie looked at him, taking in the dark hair that was a tad too long and the irrepressible smile.

  ‘That’s okay with me,’ she said.

  It wasn’t until they turned off a country lane into a wood that Callie began to get nervous. They’d passed several pubs so far and, each time Callie had spotted one, she’d felt sure they were going to stop but they hadn’t. Now, the Land Rover was bumping down a woodland track and they were soon completely surrounded by trees. Was there a grand hotel at the end of an unmade track or should she start to panic, Callie wondered?

  ‘Leo?’ she said.

  ‘Nearly there,’ he said as the Land Rover bounced in and out of several large potholes. There definitely wasn’t a hotel at the end of this track, was there, Callie thought?

  ‘Right,’ Leo announced a moment later, bringing the Land Rover to a stop and cutting the engine, ‘we’re here.’

  ‘Here?’ Callie said in surprise.

  ‘We walk from here,’ he said, jumping out of his door and running around to Callie’s.

  Callie looked out at the rutted woodland track in front of them and at the leaves, puddles and fallen debris, and then she looked down at the high-heeled boots she’d chosen to wear.

  ‘Why didn’t you tell me to change?’ she asked Leo.

  ‘Because I’ve got an extra pair of wellies in the back,’ he announced unperturbed, taking her left foot in his hands and unzipping her boot and removing it. Callie gasped as he repeated the manoeuvre with her right boot, the warmth of his hands on her near-bare skin.

  ‘Don’t move,’ he told her, opening the tailgate and rummaging around. ‘Here we go,’ he said a moment later, proffering a pair of green wellies and some thick Fair Isle socks.

  ‘We’re really going into the woods?’ she asked.

  ‘Only a quarter of a mile,’ he said.

  Callie’s mouth dropped open.

  ‘It’s all right,’ he said. ‘You won’t have to carry anything.’

  Callie watched in bemusement as he disappeared again, coming back with a large wicker hamper, a cooler bag and folded a couple of tartan blankets over his arm.

  ‘Ready?’ he said, a wide grin stretched across his face.

  ‘You’re mad,’ she said. ‘Totally mad!’

  ‘It has been said,’ he told her, and then he laughed and Callie could only join in. This, she thought, was the weirdest date of her life, but she couldn’t help acknowledging the fact that she was enjoying it in a strange kind of way.

  With her feet snug in her socks and oversized wellies, Callie followed Leo into the woods. It was wonderfully silent with the last rays of the sun strobing through the grey trunks of the beech trees.

  ‘This place is a sea of bluebells in the spring,’ he told her. ‘I’ll bring you back then.’

  Callie smiled. She liked the idea of that.

  They continued to walk, passing fallen trees, ditches full of debris from winters long ago and little cities of mushrooms.

  ‘They’re good on toast,’ Leo said. ‘But don’t ever eat those ones,’ he said, pointing to some fungi growing out of a rotting log. ‘They’ll have you in hospital within the hour.’

  ‘Noted,’ Callie said, following him as he marched further into the wood.

  It was strange for Callie to be in a wood in the evening and the experience reminded her of her childhood growing up in rural Oxfordshire when she would venture far afield with a bold group of friends to explore the woods and fields. She smiled as she remembered those long lost days, thinking how sad it was that she’d morphed into the kind of adult who never went deeper into the countryside than the nearest post box. When had that wondrous need to explore died? When she’d moved to London? When she’d grown up? And where had it gone? Callie had the sneaking suspicion that it was just lying buried deep within her; that it had never gone away because the young heroes and heroines in her stories were always having such adventures as the one she was on tonight. Perhaps, she thought, she’d been living vicariously through them. Well, no more, she told herself. If her move to the countryside had told her one thing, it was that there was a glorious world of exploring if only she took the time to leave her desk, pull on a pair of boots and get out there to discover it all.

  ‘Here,’ Leo said at last as they reached a clearing in the wood. There were a couple of old tree stumps across which Leo placed the tartan rugs and she watched in awe as he gathered kindling and logs, making up a fire in the centre of the clearing.

  ‘Do you
have the landowner’s permission to do that?’ Callie asked as he lit it, suddenly anxious that they’d be set upon by an irate gamekeeper toting a rifle.

  Leo looked up at her, amusement sparkling in his eyes. ‘I am the landowner,’ he said.

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Well, jointly with my brother, Rick. We bought this little bit of woodland when it came up for sale recently. We’d always wanted a wood. Our dad used to bring us out this way all the time,’ he said. ‘We lived for those days. Hiking, foraging, camping out – it was great.’

  ‘Does your father live nearby?’

  ‘No,’ Leo said, ‘he died three years ago.’

  ‘Oh, I’m sorry.’

  ‘We miss him. Every day.’

  ‘And your mother?’

  ‘She lives in Cavendish,’ he said. ‘You know it?’

  ‘Yes, I’ve driven through. It’s very pretty.’

  ‘Well, she used to hate it when we’d all traipse back after one of our weekends in the wild. We’d be caked in mud and we’d fill her kitchen with all the produce we’d found.’

  ‘And she didn’t like that?’

  ‘She liked neatly-wrapped food that came from the supermarket not stuff that had been dug out of a ditch or plucked from a hedge.’

  ‘That’s a shame,’ Callie said.

  ‘It was, wasn’t it? But at least you appreciate a bit of wild cooking, don’t you?’

  ‘I think I’m about to find out,’ she said.

  ‘Oh, yeah,’ Leo said, winking at her.

  Chapter 10

  Callie watched as Leo emptied the hamper, laying out plates, glasses, a bottle of wine and all the pots and pans needed to make them dinner. The fire was now blazing, sending out its welcome warmth into the darkening wood. Still, despite its heat, Callie was glad that she’d grabbed a jacket as she’d left home and she put it on now.

  ‘So, what about your parents?’ Leo asked.

  ‘They live in Oxfordshire,’ Callie said.

  ‘And you didn’t want to move there when leaving London?’