Natural Born Readers (The Book Lovers 3)

by Victoria Connelly

  I wish you’d come with me. I love you. Ben. x

  Every single postcard ended with that same message. For two whole years. And then the packages and the postcards had stopped and Bryony’s heart had broken.

  Chapter Two

  At seven years old, Bryony was already a bookworm. It was a foregone conclusion when your family owned a bookshop, and very few Christmases or birthdays passed without her receiving books. So, when she saw the school library, she felt an immediate affinity with it. She might not understand arithmetic, but she did understand books. This was a world she was familiar with and she remembered feeling rather proprietorial as she entered and saw the shelves of books for the first time, as if she was scared that the other pupils might manhandle them and that, perhaps, she should be put in charge of them, deciding which pupil could have which book and for how long.

  She was anxious about the way some of her classmates treated the books – tearing them from the shelves as if they were common items and not the glorious things she knew they were. They dropped them, threw them at each other, left them open – spine up – and squashed them into their dirty bags. It was awful. Didn’t they instinctively feel what she felt toward them: that they should be handled gently and with great reverence? That their value was more than the price they had cost? That the words and pictures inside them could be read only once, but live with you forever? She knew all this and it baffled her that her classmates didn’t. Well, perhaps one did. Ben Stratton.

  Ben sat somewhere behind her in class. She wasn’t sure where because she didn’t like boys very much. It was quite enough for a girl to have to put up with two older brothers at home without having to deal with even more boys at school. They were always so rough, she thought. Pushing and pulling each other in the playground and making rude noises in class. It was frustrating to Bryony that she had to have anything to do with boys.

  It was during one of their library sessions when she met Ben properly for the first time. She was just about to reach for a book she’d been longing to read for ages. It had caught her eye the last time, but she’d been told that she couldn’t take more than three books at once which was a very silly rule, she thought. One could read three books in one sitting and then what were you meant to do with the rest of the week?

  So, she’d just been about to reach for the longed-for book when the bulk of Damian Anderson pushed in front of her and his big chubby fist claimed her book.

  ‘Hey!’ she cried.

  ‘Hey what?’ he cried back.

  ‘I want to read that.’

  ‘Yeah?’ He gave her a taunting look which made his face look even uglier than before and then he threw the book into the air, catching it in his meaty paws a moment later.

  ‘Don’t throw it!’ Bryony said in alarm. ‘You shouldn’t throw books.’

  ‘Sez who?’

  ‘Anybody with a brain.’

  Somebody behind her laughed at that and Damian frowned.

  ‘Give her the book,’ a voice said.

  Bryony turned around and saw Ben Stratton standing there. The expression in his dark eyes was that of somebody not to be messed with.

  ‘I said, give her the book.’

  Damian seemed to be weighing his options. He was easily twice the size of Ben, but he seemed to sense that he shouldn’t mess with him.

  ‘Here!’ he snarled, throwing the book on the floor. ‘I didn’t want the stupid book anyway.’ He turned and walked away as fast as his bulk would allow him to.

  Ben stepped forward and picked up the book before handing it to Bryony.

  ‘Thanks,’ she said and he gave a little shrug.

  Bryony stroked the book, checking to see if Damian had harmed it in any way.

  ‘Why did you want the book so much?’ Ben asked her. ‘There are loads of others.’

  ‘I know, but I set my heart on this one.’

  ‘You’re funny,’ he said.

  ‘No I’m not. I just love books.’

  He continued to stare at her as if he was trying to work her out. ‘I’m Ben,’ he said at last.

  ‘I know,’ she said. ‘I’m Bryony.’

  ‘I know,’ he said and they smiled at each other.

  ‘You can read it after me if you like,’ she said, holding the book up. He glanced at it and nodded.

  ‘Okay,’ he said.

  It was shortly after the incident with the library book that Ben gave Kelly Smailes a packet of gobstoppers to get her her to swap seats with him so he could sit next to Bryony. The teacher, Miss Percival, wasn’t impressed and made him move right back. Of course, Kelly didn’t give Ben his gobstoppers back, but she took his wine gums the next time he persuaded her to move when Miss Percival’s back was turned, and half a packet of Polos the third time. Finally, Miss Percival admitted defeat.

  ‘I’ve got no sweets left now,’ Ben told Bryony.

  ‘Don’t blame me,’ she said.

  ‘I’m not,’ he said. ‘Anyway, it was worth it.’

  The Well Bread bakery in Castle Clare was always busy and rightly so because of Colin Wriothesley. He was known simply as ‘Colin the baker’ because nobody really knew how to pronounce his surname. Rizley? Risely? Wrothsley? The jury was still out and so he became ‘Colin the baker’. That he was the best baker for miles around was something that everybody was sure about. There was no doubting that and the morning and lunchtime queues were well worth putting up with to get hold of one of his farmhouse loaves, custard slices or chocolate eclairs.

  Bryony often cursed that her shop was next door to the bakery because the scent of freshly baked goods was almost too much to bear and no amount of climbing up and down her little stepladder was going to make up for the calories she consumed on a daily basis especially since Colin had started paying her special attention.

  ‘Morning,’ he said, leaning forward to kiss her cheek as he came into the shop.

  ‘Colin!’ she said, pushing him away. ‘Someone may come in.’ But it wasn’t just the fear of somebody seeing him kiss her that made her push him away. He was getting far too tactile for her liking. They’d had dinner out together a few times and the odd date, but that didn’t mean that they were a couple, did it?

  He gave her a mournful sort of look with those big grey eyes of his and she instantly felt bad. He had the knack of making her feel guilty and she didn’t like him for that either.

  Her mum had told Bryony to bring him to Sunday lunch, but that was getting far too familiar, Bryony had decided. Sunday lunch was for when you were practically engaged like her brother Sam and Callie. It wasn’t for someone who you were just casually sort of, kind of, dating like she was with Colin. Sunday lunch would give both Colin and her family the totally wrong impression and that wouldn’t be fair at all.

  ‘I’ve made you a raspberry sponge,’ he told her as she found something to busy herself with behind the till. ‘Can I get you a slice now or shall we save it for later?’

  ‘Oh, Colin! You mustn’t keep making me cakes. My waistline’s going to balloon!’

  ‘Nonsense! You’re absolutely perfect,’ he said with a tender smile.

  Oh, how she wished he wouldn’t say things like that. ‘I’m not perfect,’ she said. ‘There’s at least half a stone of me that shouldn’t exist at all.’

  ‘That’s rubbish,’ he said with a laugh.

  ‘And my nose is too big and I’m not tall enough.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘I always wanted to be taller and slimmer. Like Polly. But I’m the shorter, plumper one.’

  Colin shook his head.

  ‘And I’ll get even plumper if you keep baking me sugary treats.’

  ‘How about some savoury ones instead? I’ve got some cheese straws just out of the oven.’

  Bryony’s mouth watered at the thought of Colin’s cheese straws. The temptation was almost too much as she pictured the perfect golden crumbliness of them and that hit of tangy cheese.

  ‘No!’ she said, the word shooting ou
t of her mouth and startling him. ‘I’ve brought a sandwich for lunch.’

  ‘I can make you lunch,’ he said. ‘I’ve told you.’

  She shook her head. ‘I’m quite capable of making my own lunch.’

  He held his hands up as if in defeat. ‘Okay, okay! I just thought...’ he stopped. ‘I’d better get back to the shop.’

  Instantly, Bryony felt bad for throwing his kind gestures back in his face.

  ‘Call me later,’ she said and winced inwardly. She didn’t really want him to call her later.

  He gave a little smile which looked half hope, half frustration and left the shop.

  Bryony released a long sigh she’d obviously been holding in. Why was she so mean to Colin? She should just put him out of his misery. Polly was always telling her to because she could see that Bryony wasn’t in love with him and yet she kept him dangling as if having somebody there in the wings was better than living as a hopeless case. And she did feel hopeless too, what with Sam finding Callie and Polly getting all cosy with Jago. Josh was still single, but he seemed quite happy married to his books, truth be told. It would take a very special person to catch his attention. Even her younger sister Lara was living it up at university. Bryony was quite sure that she got through as many boyfriends as she did term papers.

  Whereas she was a big fat failure in the romance department, resorting to online dating agencies and half-hearted attempts at a relationship with Colin the baker. It shouldn’t have happened, of course. She shouldn’t be single. She wouldn’t have been either if Ben hadn’t –

  No! She wasn’t going to think about that, but boy was it hard not to think about Ben when she knew he was back in town. And, in her experience, there was one way to banish a nasty thought from your mind: you ordered books. That was the one sure-fire way of taking your mind off your troubles and so that’s what Bryony focussed on, making a selection of golden oldies and debut titles, series books and standalones. Her mother had once told her not to make rash decisions when it came to buying.

  ‘Remember, you must think about your customers and not just what you want.’

  It was good advice, but Bryony usually made up her own mind because she knew that the passion she had for each and every book she stocked could easily be transmitted to her customers. She felt sorry for the ones who sometimes just came in to browse when it was raining because they’d invariably leave with a big bag of books by the time Bryony had finished with them. She was passionate about her stock and that meant that everything she ordered in would be sold.

  But even ordering a big stack of beautiful books could only keep her thoughts at bay for a limited time and Ben Stratton soon wiggled his way back into them. There was a part of Bryony which had hoped that this day would never come and that Ben would find a job and make a home somewhere abroad. Maybe he had, she thought. Maybe he was just visiting or collecting some of his things before heading off again. But something told her that wasn’t the case. She instinctively seemed to know that Ben Stratton was back for good and that was highly unsettling.

  Ben Stratton had always planned to come back to Castle Clare. He just never thought it would take him so long to make the journey. But it was six long years since he’d said goodbye to his home town, packed a modest bag and taken off with no real direction in mind – just the conviction that he had to get away. It had been the right decision, but so had coming home. He hoped.

  How tiny the town looked now after the vast cities like Rome and Lima, and how lush the countryside seemed to him, how gentle its valleys and how verdant its woods. Yes, he could safely say that he’d missed Suffolk. As much as he’d wanted to get away from it, his return had been much longed for.

  Of course, he was going to have to find a job as well as a place to live. His younger sister Georgia was putting him up on a futon bed in her spare room. It was luxury after some of the hovels he’d stayed in on his travels, that was for sure, but it was only a temporary measure. One could only live off the goodwill of a sibling for so long.

  Dear Georgia, he thought as he walked through the tiny Victorian terrace she was renting on the outskirts of Castle Clare. She’d just left for university when he’d gone away. She’d been studying in Manchester and he’d told her not to come home during the holidays. Take a job, he’d told her. Stay with a friend, but don’t come home. He’d made her swear that she wouldn’t and she’d listened to him. They’d been close and she’d always looked up to her big brother. His word was golden. Thank goodness.

  He walked to the dresser that Georgia had bought. The house had come partially furnished and she’d done her best to turn it into a home with a few modest purchases from eBay and the cheaper corners of local antique shops. She adored her dresser, filling it with all that female paraphernalia that Ben found baffling. Like why did you need a dozen mugs when there was only you in the house? And there were loads of jugs too – floral ones, spotty ones... He couldn’t help but smile. Maybe his years as a traveller were telling on him and maybe it was time now for him to start buying furniture. And mugs.

  There was one thing that particularly caught his eye on the dresser: a photo in a pretty glittery frame. He picked it up and looked at his and Georgia’s smiling faces. It had been taken about seven years ago. The summer before Paul Caston arrived on the scene. Ben swallowed hard. How long ago those Paul-free days seemed before the shadow he cast had descended. But what could Ben have done about it? He’d been a student, studying English, and still living at home during the holidays when his mum had first brought Paul Caston into their home. Paul had been a few years older than Marion Stratton and he knew that she’d been easy to charm. Life hadn’t been easy: she’d raised Ben and Georgia alone after their father had left them, flitting from relationship to relationship, never able to settle. Until Paul.

  Ben groaned as he remembered the tyrant they had been forced to share their home with. When Ben had left Castle Clare, he’d hated abandoning his little sister, but he’d got in contact with several of her friends and made them promise to keep an eye on things and to make sure that, when she left for university, she never came home again.

  Ben had had to go then. He’d been close to breaking point after Paul’s constant bullying. He knew something bad would have happened if he hadn’t left when he had. Everything was leading up to it, he could sense it. Only he hadn’t meant to stay away for so long. That hadn’t been the plan. But one country had led to another and one job followed on from the next, and Castle Clare and all the bad memories of Paul had seemed ever more distant.

  He shook his head. He didn’t want to think about that now. He’d promised himself that he wouldn’t get sucked into a negative spiral of thought if he returned to Castle Clare. That wasn’t what his return was about.

  It was as he was replacing the photo on the shelf that Georgia bounced into the room, her dark curls bobbing around her face and her fake eyelashes making her look like a little doll. What was it with girls and fake eyelashes, he wondered? He didn’t understand how they could be bothered with such things. Surely she was pretty enough?

  ‘Want a cup of tea?’ she asked.

  ‘I’m good,’ he said.

  ‘What have you been up to today?’

  He shrugged. ‘Not much. Sleeping mostly.’

  ‘Oh, Ben!’

  ‘Hey, if you’d been travelling around the world for six years, you’d have a jolly good sleep when you finally made it home.’

  ‘Oh, and that’s the excuse you’re going to trot out forever, is it? I can’t empty the bin – I’ve been travelling around the world for six years. You make dinner, I’ve been travelling around the world –’

  ‘Ha ha – very funny!’

  She flopped down onto the sofa and he sat down beside her.

  ‘Have you spoken to Mum yet?’ she asked him.

  Ben shook his head.

  ‘Ben! You’ve got to ring her. Or – better still – go round.’

  ‘I’m not ready for that.’

&n
bsp; ‘No? And when will you be?’

  ‘Maybe never.’

  ‘Don’t be like that. She’s changed. She’s not the woman she was when Paul was hanging around here.’

  He shook his head. ‘People don’t change.’

  Georgia gaped at him. ‘You really believe that?’

  ‘I really do.’

  ‘So, all your travels and meeting people and experiences and foreign food and god only knows what else you ate or imbibed – all of that hasn’t changed you just a teeny tiny bit?’

  ‘Well, I’ve grown, obviously.’

  ‘Yes, you have!’ she said, poking his belly with a finger.

  He frowned at her. ‘I meant spiritually, emotionally.’

  ‘And physically!’

  ‘I keep myself fit.’

  ‘I know you do. I was just teasing!’ she told him. ‘So, in all those years you’ve been away, you’ve stayed exactly the same Ben Stratton who left Castle Clare?’

  ‘Well, I’m not exactly the same,’ he admitted. ‘I’ve got a couple of new scars and I’ve picked up a few new languages. I’ve learned some stuff along the way.’

  ‘Exactly. And so’s Mum.’

  ‘What, Mum speaks Spanish and Italian now, does she?’

  ‘That’s not what I meant,’ Georgia groaned. ‘But she’s learned some other stuff since you’ve been gone. She’s learned that she’s missed you more than anything in the world, Ben. You broke her heart when you left.’

  ‘Rubbish. She wouldn’t even have noticed I’d gone.’

  ‘Oh, she noticed. She noticed every single day. She cried for a whole week when you left.’

  Ben sighed. It surprised him how much his sister’s words hurt him.

  ‘Go and see her, Ben. You don’t have to stay or say much. Just go and see her.’