The Little Bookshop at Herring Cove

by Kellie Hailes

  ‘Like considering selling up and leaving? Because that’s what I’m thinking I might have to do.’

  The silence was so complete you could have heard a loose leaf from a book fall to the ground.

  Sophie wished she could take the words back. Not because she didn’t mean them. She did. It had been playing on her mind since Frank Fletcher, on the day he’d left the village, had slipped another folded piece of paper, with an even larger number written on it, underneath the shop’s door. But by saying the words out loud she was giving her friends the chance to talk her out of it.

  Ginny’s mouth opened. Her chest inflated.

  Sophie shook her head, held her hand up. Stopped Ginny just as she went to talk. ‘Don’t try to talk me out of it. My everything has always been tangled up in the place. The good and the bad. And until recently the good managed to outweigh the bad – even after Phillip did what he did. But now? After Al—’ She bit her tongue. Stopped herself from saying his name out loud.

  What good was it doing holding it in, though? Perhaps if she could use it freely, she could move on faster.

  ‘After this thing with Alexander, well, I don’t know that the scales are weighted on the good side any more.’

  ‘I understand.’ Natalie threaded her arm through Sophie’s. ‘That’s why I want to move on. Sometimes you need a fresh start. But just make sure you’re doing it for the right reasons, okay? You don’t want to look back a year from now and wished you’d chosen another path.’

  A chirpy meow came from the storeroom, and Puddles sauntered in seconds later, before plopping down in the middle of the floor for a spot of grooming.

  Memories of Alexander flared in Sophie’s mind. Alexander stroking Puddles absentmindedly as they sat on the couch watching a movie. His pleading to be allowed to break Sophie’s one cat rule that meant Puddles wasn’t to sleep in her bed. His bemusement when she refused to budge, saying if she let Puddles do it once he’d want to do it forever. That he shouldn’t be encouraged. The way that he’d then picked up Puddles, held him nose-to-nose and apologised for failing to change her mind.

  There was no way she could find her way back to that path. Even if she wanted to. Alexander had his place in the world. His future all mapped out. She had begun to suspect that she was still finding hers. And maybe a fresh start was the only way she’d get the clarity she needed to illuminate the path ahead.

  She broke away from the girls. ‘I’ve got some thinking to do. I’ve made enough mistakes trusting others. If I’m going to sell this place I need to know that my instincts are right. That I can trust myself to make the right decision.’

  Natalie and Ginny gave her one last hug and wished her good luck, before waving goodbye and heading into the late afternoon sun, which was becoming more watered down with every passing day as autumn’s chilly fingers took hold of Herring Cove.

  Sophie hugged herself tight. She may not have the happily ever after she’d dared hope for, but she had her friends and she had her bookshop – for now.

  Soft fur brushed her ankles. She glanced down to see Puddles weaving his way through her legs. And she had Puddles. Which meant Sophie had all she needed.

  And with all of that she could distract herself to the ends of eternity pretending it was enough.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang.

  ‘Noooooo.’ Sophie rolled over, grabbed the spare pillow and curled it round over her head.

  Bang. Bang. Bang.

  The repetitive noise, now muffled, was no less annoying.

  ‘Are you kidding me…’ She felt around her bedside table for her phone, dragged it under the pillow and peeled open one sleep-deprived eye. ‘It’s not even eight.’ She groaned and pulled the duvet up over her pillowed head.

  Maybe if she smothered herself she’d get the rest she was in desperate need of.

  Rest? She needed more than rest. She needed the deal she’d made with Frank Fletcher to be over and done with so she could move on with her life. But, of course, even that hadn’t been easy. Story of her life.

  She’d have thought Frank would have lauded her decision to backtrack and been a patronising arse. Instead he’d paused for long enough that Sophie had been struck with fear that he was going to tell her the offer was off the table, and that she’d just have to live with a resort surrounding her for the rest of her life.

  Instead he’d told her he’d send someone down that following week to walk her through the contract, and that was that.

  Sophie huddled into a foetal position and prayed – as she’d done every day since – that the person he was sending down would be anyone other than Alexander. Not that she thought it would be. She was sure he had better things to do than tie up a loose end such as herself.

  Bang. Bang. Crash!

  An expletive filled the air, matching the one in Sophie’s head. Enough. She threw back the covers, sprung out of bed, all vestiges of tiredness erased by boiling grumpiness. She shoved her feet into her red wool-lined slippers, grabbed her fluffy heart-covered bathrobe and tied it at the waist as she ran down the stairs and charged into the street to find out where the noise was coming from so she could give the creator of the racket a dressing down for not starting work at a more polite time.

  The shop windows around her were in darkness. No surprise since most were abandoned anyway. That left Natalie’s place and Mr Murphy’s. But he’d left a week ago. Decided to move out early. Turned out he’d saved enough over the years to retire to Tuscany, and the money he’d been offered from the Fletcher deal was just the icing on the cake.

  Sophie turned her attention to Natalie’s. Had she had an attack of the DIYs? Or decided to take up a new, loud, bang-making hobby? That would explain the noise. But the cursing had been distinctly masculine.

  Maybe something more nefarious was going on and Natalie and the kids were in trouble? Trapped by the world’s loudest criminal?

  Sophie knew she was being ridiculous, but tried the door to Natalie’s anyway. If it was locked she’d know she was safe and she’d find out what the banging was all about later. If it were open…

  The door creaked open.

  Sophie’s pulse picked up. There was no going back now. She couldn’t just shut the door and pretend everything was okay. Because what if it wasn’t? What if her ridiculous imaginary scenario was actually real?

  She sucked in a breath and summoned the courage to creep up the steps, cringing every time one creaked as her weight bore down on it.

  Once she reached the landing she pressed her back to the wall and opened the door that lead to the lounge inch by inch. When no axe murderer came rushing out, she poked her head through.

  ‘Finally. I was wondering how long it’d take for you to get up here to tell me off.’

  Sophie froze. Blinked. Rubbed her eyes just to make double-sure she was seeing what she was seeing. Who she thought she was seeing.

  ‘I know how much you love a good hammering in the morning.’ Alexander winked, slung the claw end of the hammer through the wall and yanked it out, scattering plaster over the floor.

  ‘What are you doing? Nat’s going to kill you.’ She stepped into the room and reached for the hammer. ‘Give me that. Before you do any more damage.’

  ‘But I’m not doing damage. I’m working on it.’

  ‘Working on it? As in you’re tearing this place apart piece by piece before building the resort?’ Sophie took in the toolkit, the pails of paint, the paintbrushes and rollers. It made no sense. Why would he need paint when he was wrecking the place? ‘Are you going to somehow incorporate this place into the resort? Turn it into some quaint extension? Because I can tell you right now that it’ll just look ugly. And why aren’t you in London? Why are you here? What part of leave and never come back did you not understand?’

  Alexander’s head tipped back and laughter filled the room. ‘Did I ever tell you how cute you are when you’re outraged? Because you really are, you know. So cute. The first da
y I met you I thought you were cute. At the time I thought it was strange that I would have that kind of feeling about you. It’s not unusual to think someone’s hot the second you see them – and you are that too, don’t get me wrong – but to think of someone as cute you have to know them a little. And I felt like I knew you. Right from the moment we met.’

  Sophie took a step backwards. She needed space. To think. To breathe. To figure out whether she needed to talk sense into Alexander or to swoon at his feet.

  No. No swooning. Don’t let his charm fool you. You’ve been down that road already.

  ‘Don’t think you can get away with doing whatever it is you’re doing by sweet-talking me. I’m not that kind of girl.’ There, he knew where he stood with her. Nowhere. Well, nowhere if his plan was to make himself comfortable in Herring Cove for the foreseeable future. She didn’t need a constant reminder of how stupid she was to trust another man. How daft she was to fall for the wrong guy, again.

  ‘I know you’re not that kind of girl. It’s one of the many reasons I feel the way I do about you. You are independent. You are strong. You are kind. You have the biggest heart of anyone I’ve ever met, even if you do your best to shield it.’

  Alexander moved towards her, and this time she stayed rooted to the spot. She breathed in his clean, lemon scent. Damn it. She’d missed it. Missed him.

  But that didn’t mean she was going to throw herself at him. Good looks did not equate to a good soul. Even if he was saying all the right things.

  Even if a rather large part of her knew she’d been too harsh, too quick to judge that night she’d found out he’d told his father about her financial crisis.

  ‘So, the plan is…’ Alexander came to her side, then turned around and faced the empty space. ‘I’m going to knock down the wall between the lounge and the kitchen. Convert it into open-plan living. Bring some more light into the room. And then I’m going to hire someone to fix the roof. Then I’ll re-sand and revarnish the floors. Then I’m thinking a fresh coat of paint, an AGA in the kitchen and lots of rugs and a cosy couch will make it a place that I can call home.’

  If seeing Alexander’s handsome face smiling at her when she’d entered the room hadn’t been enough to give her a heart attack, this piece of news was.

  ‘You what?’ Sophie crossed her arms and pinched the soft underside of her flesh. This must be a dream. It was all too weird. ‘You’re not going to build the resort?’

  ‘Of course not. What we’re planning to do is a million times better than that has-been of an idea.’ He slung an arm over her shoulder. Light. Non-committal. Giving her the option to move away should she want to.

  Sophie didn’t want to.

  ‘What’s going to happen is I’m going to move in. I’ve bought the place off Natalie. Not for what we were originally offering, but she seemed to be more than okay with the money I presented. It meant she could buy the place off Mr Murphy next door and still have some money spare.’

  Sophie glanced around the room. In her shock at seeing Alexander she’d yet to realise there was so sign of Natalie and the kids. No laundry. No toys. No empty mugs. Just a bunch of furniture pushed up against one wall opposite from where Alexander was working.

  ‘Where is Natalie? And the kids? Have they already moved into Mr Murphy’s?’

  Alexander shook his head. ‘Not yet. They’re staying with her parents until it’s all sorted. And before you get angry at her for not telling you about all this. She wanted to, but I wanted to make sure everything was in order before I returned. I didn’t want to let you down again. Didn’t want to hurt you.’

  ‘I have got to stop eating cheese before bed and figure out a way to stop Puddles sleeping in my bed and waking me up at all hours for a patting session. No more. This is crazy.’ Sophie hooked a step ladder that was sitting in the middle of the room with her foot and dragged it towards her, ducked out from under Alexander’s arm and crouched down to sit on it. Sticking to the lowest rung in case she had a case of the dizzies and fell off. ‘You’re meant to be in London. Working for that horrible father of yours. Selling your soul to the devil. Not moving in next door and making it so my best friend doesn’t have to move away.’

  Alexander sunk to his haunches and placed the hammer in Sophie’s hands. ‘See it’s real. That hammer is as real as I am.’

  Sophie ran her thumb over the smooth grain of the wood. ‘This is madness.’

  ‘Well, love is. Isn’t it? No one’s ever written about how sensible love is.’

  ‘Love?’ The hammer slipped out of her hand and fell to the ground without, strangely, making a sound.

  Alexander’s smile morphed into pain as he leapt up and hopped around the room. ‘Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow, oooooooow.’ He collapsed on the ground and held his booted foot in his hand. ‘This. Is. Meant. To be. Romantic.’ The words were forced out between deep breaths. ‘Grand gestures. All the things that happen in romances.’ He pulled his shoe off and inspected his toe.

  ‘Is it okay?’ Sophie made to touch his toe, but it was pulled out of reach before she got to it. ‘Sorry. Dumb idea. Who’d want their sore toe touched when they were in agony? Is it broken? Did I break it?’

  ‘No, I think it’s fine.’ He flexed his toe and grimaced. ‘Mostly, sort-of fine. And what’s this about Puddles waking you up at night? You never let him sleep with you, even when I begged.’

  Sophie tried for a nonchalant shrug but couldn’t stop the smirk appearing on her face. ‘Well, it turns out once you let someone into your bed it can quickly become a habit.’

  Alexander’s cheeks flushed a curious pink.

  ‘That’s for the “hammering” comment.’ She scrambled onto her knees and shuffled over to sit by Alexander. ‘So, what’s the deal? Why are you back? And be honest.’

  ‘Because I want to be back. I want to be with you.’ His eyes darkened with sincerity. ‘And I believe that Herring Cove is lovely as it is, but has potential to be even better. Here, this will explain it better than I can.’ He reached into his back pocket, pulled out a sheet of paper and unfolded it.

  Sophie scanned its contents. ‘You’ve got businesses here, but there aren’t even buildings in that spot.’ She jabbed at the roughly drawn map where a bakery and gift shop sat beside each other on a lot that was currently barren.

  ‘If it all goes to plan, there will be.’

  Alexander was so confident, so sure of himself. How could he be when Sophie’s stomach was churning with excitement and fear and the sheer possibilities of his project.

  ‘Initially I want to fix these places up. I’ve also bought the farm out the back because I didn’t think it was right to go back on the agreement we had.’

  ‘But what about your father? Have you left the company? Have you abandoned your family to do your own thing?’

  ‘No. Well, not quite. The thing is building the resort wasn’t making me feel good in here.’ He touched his chest, where his heart lay beneath, and patted it twice. ‘Leaving my family didn’t make me feel that way either, but I couldn’t keep doing what I was doing if I wanted to feel right within myself. Which meant I had to stand up to my father and make him see that there were other ways we could make money. That reinvigoration didn’t necessarily require destruction.’

  Sophie tried to piece together what she was hearing. It sounded right, but it also sounded too good to be true. ‘And what? He just went with your idea? Folded? He doesn’t strike me as a man who bends.’

  ‘You’re a good judge of character, Sophie. He didn’t just bend. We struck a deal. If I can raise half the capital to do this, he will provide the other half. If my vision works, we’ll integrate it into the Fletcher model.’

  ‘And how much money do you need to raise?’

  Alexander mentioned a figure that sent Sophie’s gut into freefall. ‘That’s ridiculous. An insane amount of money. How would you make it work? And why would you? You could lose everything.’

  ‘Or I could gain everything.’ Alexander shr
ugged, his face the picture of sincerity. ‘I’ve spoken to the bank. I’ve put my savings into this. My home in London is on the market, and the money from that will be invested into the project. I’m all in. If I can pull this off, and I’m confident I can, I’ll be able to do work that matters to me, while leading the Fletcher Group in an exciting new direction.’

  Sophie massaged her temples. Tried to get her brain around the scope of Alexander’s project. ‘This is all well and good, but there’s not enough people here to support something of this scale. You’ve seen what it’s like. A handful of locals. Empty houses dotted along the clifftops.’

  ‘Exactly. Empty houses. That could provide income by becoming rental accommodation to tourists. They’d pay a pretty penny for those views. Once we’ve bought them, all we’d need to do is tidy them up, take photos, upload them to accommodation sites and employ someone local to run the day-to-day operations. Other locals might take the opportunity to lease a shop at a reasonable price and start a business. Or fresh faces could be attracted to the area to do the same. The main thing is we can retain the charm of Herring Cove while making it a place where tourists will come and stay, have fun, relax, spend money… all without destroying the heart and soul of the place.’ Alexander tugged the paper out from her fingers and set it to the side, then took hold of Sophie’s hand. ‘I’ve thought it all through. Run the numbers. There’s no reason why we can’t make this a success.’

  ‘We’. Why did she feel like Alexander was including her in that word? And how could he so easily throw himself into a project so risky? How, when he was putting literally everything he had on the line, did he not fear failure? Fear the repercussions?

  ‘It’s all so big, Alex. So much. Your vision is beyond anything I could ever imagine for the place, and if anyone could make it happen, it’s you. But there are plenty of other places where you could test out this reinvigoration of yours. Ones that aren’t so rundown. That wouldn’t need as much work. I simply can’t understand why you’d uproot your life, everything you’ve worked for, in order to move to a tiny seaside village and risk… well, everything.’