Lost For Words

by Stephanie Butland

  It was just the two of us.

  For now.

  ‘It’s nearly time,’ Nathan said. ‘Are you going to be okay?’

  ‘Yes, I am,’ I said. I meant it. I felt calmer than I had in – well, in forever. The loss of Archie hurt. The change in my circumstances was bewildering. But the fact that I was allowing myself to be me, and reaching out to Nathan and Annabel – it was as though I’d finally found a comfortable way to stand, feet on the ground, eyes forward, no need for anything except taking a breath and deciding what next.

  Yesterday, as Archie’s coffin went into the ground, I’d made a decision. I’d thought about how Mum had wanted to come and get me. How she’d found me; how her nerve had failed her. Just like mine had, so many times, when I could have reached out to Nathan or I could have reported Rob or I could have made Melodie listen to my warning. I could have told Archie everything, on any of those occasions when he’d shown me how ready he was to listen. I hadn’t.

  Finally, I understood. There was nothing I wanted more than to see her and nothing that was more frightening than the thought of seeing her. Contacting her didn’t mean a quick coffee and a catch-up. It meant the beginning of the future I always should have had.

  I knew that my relationship with my mother was in as good a shape as a burned-down bookshop. Nothing had been simple for us. There was no reason to think it was about to get any simpler. As the funeral car had taken us back to the house, I asked Annabel to call my mother and invite her to come to see me. She had said she would come today.

  ‘Do you want me to make myself scarce?’ Nathan asked.

  ‘Maybe to start with,’ I said.

  ‘I’ll be upstairs,’ he said. ‘Just call me when you need me.’ He kissed me, softly; my lip had only just healed and the skin was shiny and thin.

  He took his copy of Grinning Jack from his bag and walked up the staircase, to our bedroom.

  And I made my way out into the late autumn sunshine to wait for my mother. I imagined her leaving books at the shop, putting them on the step like flowers at the site of a car crash. She had wanted, so much, to talk to me. She had been so scared. I knew what those things felt like.

  The thought of her was as warm as ginger parkin, as sweet as finding a perfect shell on the shore.

  Choice

  As performed by Loveday Cardew at the George and Dragon York, January 2017

  Nobody else got the life I got.

  I was happy, then wretched, and I cried a lot.

  Then I grieved then I sulked and I got in a knot

  And I didn’t know how to get out of it.

  Not a lot of people lose both parents in one night

  Just like that – the end of the light

  No coping strategies, no end in sight.

  And I had no way to get out of it.

  When you only want your mum and dad then no one else will do

  When you push other people away they will leave you too

  I acted like I knew it all but I didn’t have a clue

  And I didn’t know how to get back from it.

  And then you realise what you’ve done is made yourself a shell

  You’ve shut right off, right out, right down, the pussy in the well

  And no one close enough to hear the tale you’ve got to tell

  How the hell are you meant to get over it?

  It turns out if you take a step then someone else will match it

  It seems that if you drop the ball some cocky git will catch it

  The past won’t fix the future, you have power over that shit

  And that’s how I might get over it.

  You are cordially invited to the reopening of

  Lost For Words, York

  Rare and beautiful books

  for book lovers everywhere

  Reading refuge upstairs

  Proprietor: Loveday Cardew

  Event catering: Sarah-Jane Walker

  Entertainment: Nathan Avebury

  Guided tours: Melodie

  THE END

  A Bookshop

  A bell over the door: a brassy, jangling clang.

  There should be no clock. Time is meaningless here.

  No book is without worth.

  Let there be a marbling of the light, refracted through old windows, to remind us that

  nothing is ever true.

  Here is all that you do not yet know.

  Everything is slightly crooked, except the lines of words on pages.

  Here is food.

  This place is crammed with what is unlooked-for.

  There should not be music, but there should not be silence.

  Fingers must not be shy. Touch spines. Turn pages.

  A door that no one has the key to is in the corner.

  Giggling. And little cries of ‘Oh!’ when something forgotten is found.

  A bookshop is not magic, but it can steal away your heart.

  The air is not like any other air. It has memory stirred through it.

  There is something here for you. All you need to do is choose it.

  That smell. You know. Patchouli. Honey. Salt and violets.

  And oh, the people. They must be forgiven their sins because they are here.

  A bookshop is not magic, but it can slowly heal your heart.

  For Your Reading Group

  1.Why do you think Loveday prefers books to people?

  2.How important do you think books are in shaping a person’s growth?

  3.‘All happy families are alike; each unhappy family is unhappy in its own way.’ Why do you think Loveday chose to have this line tattooed on her body? What is its significance?

  4.How accurate is Loveday’s perception of Nathan?

  5.How important do you think the different locations in the story are to the novel? Why do you think the author chose York as the home of the bookshop?

  6.Almost all of the characters in the novel are keeping a secret. What do you think the effect is of keeping a secret about yourself?

  7.Loveday believes that we have power over how people perceive us based on the different stories we tell about ourselves. To what extent do you agree?

  8.What do you make of Loveday’s relationship with her foster mum? Who do you think it is most difficult for?

  A Conversation with Stephanie Butland

  There are so many wonderful books mentioned in Lost for Words. How did you decide which ones Loveday would get tattooed on her body? How important was this selection?

  I had two criteria: books that would have meaning for Loveday, and books that had a powerful, meaningful-to-Loveday first line that wasn’t too long! She talks about The Wee Free Men, for example, as being a book that has a strong female heroine. Anyone who has read the book will also know that Tiffany is a heroine who is on her own in a strange land, and must rely on her own resources to save herself and others. She doesn’t always get credit for what she does, and she draws on her memories to help her and keep her safe. Loveday would recognise all of this. And ‘Some things start before other things’ would have particular resonance for Loveday: her early life is a sequence of events, building and amplifying the problems in her family, until the night everything changes for her.

  Do you have a special place where you write your books?

  Oh, yes! I have a studio at the bottom of my garden. The wi-Fi doesn’t reach that far so when I go in and close the door it’s just me and the book I’m writing. I write at a bureau, which belonged to my grandmother: I’m surrounded by things I love, and things that I’m inspired by.

  I think it’s dangerous, though, to tell myself that ‘this is the place where I write’. I wrote my first book at the dining table. I finished another in a coffee shop at York railway station. I’ve written in airport lounges, libraries and on trains. I’d rather be in my studio, of course, but I think it’s important not to put limits on the way that I work, and not make the studio a necessity when really it’s a luxury.

  How important do you f
eel research is when writing a novel?

  Writing a novel is the quickest way to finding out that you know nothing about anything! When I wrote my first novel, I had a GP with a key role. It occurred to me, once the book was finished, to talk about the plot with a GP friend – at which point I discovered that my character had done a couple of things that a GP wouldn’t be asked to do and one that was highly unethical! Now I try never to make assumptions. When I was writing Lost for Words I talked to poets and lawyers, foster parents and social workers, magicians and bookshop-owners. I also think there are some things that you only get real insight into by doing yourself. I’ve worked as a bookseller, so I know how that goes – but I learned to perform poetry, I went to Whitby and sat in the church and walked on the beach, I had a go at magic.

  How do you relieve writers’ block?

  I’m not sure that I suffer from it in the ‘empty blank screen’ sense. I do have days when I really struggle to get the words out – my brain is like a creaky, leaky old boat that’s going nowhere fast – and I have days when I get up from my desk feeling as though I’ve used up all the half-decent writing in me and the rest of my career is going to be dull grey brain-scrapings. The trick, for me, is to remember that just because being a writer is a dream come true – that doesn’t make it easy. When I’m working on a book I have a daily target, usually a thousand words per day and then anything else is a bonus, and so long as I hit that I remind myself that I’m doing okay. Some days the words do flow, and I don’t want to stop at a thousand. Other days, it’s not like that at all. Then I remind myself that a thousand terrible words on the page that can be fixed later is better than a whole novel in my head that I’ll write when I’m in the mood.

  What does it feel like to have your book out there, being shared and discussed?

  Wonderful. Weird. Terrifying.

  When I’m writing a book – when it’s just me and the page – it’s my whole world, absorbing and real. When it’s published, anyone can buy it and put it in their handbag, love it or not get round to reading it or not enjoy it very much. That feels very odd, and quite uncomfortable. My way of managing the transition is to think of the book as ‘my’ book while I’m writing it. As soon as it goes off to the printer, it’s no longer mine. It has its own life, and I’m interested in it, but I can’t be as attached to it as I was in the writing process . . . If I was, a poor review would mean I’d take to my bed.

  Do you read other people’s novels while you’re writing?

  The answer to that, I think, is ‘Yes, but . . .’! I love to read but have to be wary at certain stages of the writing process, because if I’m not careful I can ‘write in’ elements of what I’m reading without noticing. So when I’m still formulating characters, setting and story, I tend to avoid contemporary fiction. Instead I turn to historical fiction, sci-fi or rereading the classics. Their worlds are different enough to the worlds of my novels to prevent anything leaping across!

  What’s next for you? Are you writing another book?

  I sure am! I always promise myself ‘three months off’ when I finish a book and then invariably start scribbling ideas on Post-it notes within the week. I’m working on a novel about Ailsa, a young woman who has had a heart transplant after a lifetime of illness, and needs to understand her new identity now that she is ordinary for the first time in her life. It has tango, Shakespeare, Edinburgh, and reality TV shows in it . . .

  Acknowledgements

  Many people helped me to understand the detail of Loveday’s story:

  –Mary Hill, Laura Lane, Rebecca Mason and Marion Robson talked me through social work and long-term foster caring

  –Jack Fellowes and Tom Furnell explained to me how a bookshop would burn

  –Kirsten Luckins and James Wilkinson answered my many questions about performance poetry

  –Barry Speker OBE DL showed me how complex the law around domestic violence is

  –Stuart Manby of Barter Books in Alnwick took me behind the scenes and told me the secrets of second-hand bookselling

  I’m grateful to you all, and claim any mistakes and misrepresentations for my own, with apologies.

  I’d like to give a special shout-out to Scratch Tyne, a rehearsal group funded by spoken word charity Apples And Snakes. The poets there were patient and encouraging with me as I fumbled my way to understanding what performance poetry is and how it works its magic on both poet and audience. I remain inspired by you all.

  My beta-readers were Alan Butland, Rebecca Mason, Emily Medland, Tom Nelson, James Wilkinson and Susan Young, and their feedback was key in helping me to figure out how to tell Loveday’s tale. Shelley Harris read the beginning at the beginning, and has cheered me on throughout.

  Claire Dyer of Fresh Eyes Consultancy gave intelligent, valuable feedback into what worked, what snagged, and what could be better.

  Archie is named for Arch Brodie, who taught me English, along with Mary Adams, Margaret Rogerson and Bev Millman. The school that I went to was unremarkable, but the English teaching was, I believe, exceptional. Bev, in particular, saw a spark of something in my writing; I’ll always be grateful.

  My agent, Oli Munson at A. M. Heath, is my champion and my friend. Thank you for keeping the faith.

  Eli Dryden is part editor and part creative partner-in-crime, and I love working with her. Her input and insight work wonders. The team at Bonnier Zaffre are a delight to work with – committed, clever and bubbling with ideas. Thanks, all.

  The families of writers have much to put up with. Thank you for being there, when I was (sometimes literally, often metaphorically) absent: Alan, Ned, Joy, Mum, Dad, Auntie Susan.

  About the Author

  Stephanie lives with her family near the sea in the North East of England. She writes in a studio at the bottom of her garden, and when she’s not writing, she trains people to think more creatively. For fun, she reads, knits, sews, bakes and spins. She is an occasional performance poet.

  http://stephaniebutland.com/

  @under_blue_sky

  @StephanieButland

  @StephanieButlandAuthor

  If you loved Lost for Words, look out for Stephanie Butland’s next novel The Curious Heart of Ailsa Rae

  Coming April 2018

  First published in Great Britain in 2017 by Zaffre Publishing

  This ebook edition published in 2017 by

  Zaffre Publishing

  80-81 Wimpole St, London, W1G 9RE

  www.zaffrebooks.co.uk

  Copyright © Stephanie Butland, 2017

  The moral right of Stephanie Butland to be identified as Author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy, recording, or any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places and events are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

  Paperback ISBN: 978-1-785-76259-8

  Ebook ISBN: 978-1-785-76260-4

  This ebook was produced by IDSUK (Data Connection) Ltd

  Zaffre Publishing is an imprint of Bonnier Zaffre, a Bonnier Publishing company

  www.bonnierzaffre.co.uk

  www.bonnierpublishing.co.uk

 

 

 
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