The Vintage Bookshop of Memories

by Elizabeth Holland

  ‘Thank you, Walter!’ Prue called as she climbed down the ladder back to the shop floor.

  ‘You’re welcome miss. Good luck, the village folk won’t be happy about this.’ Walter picked up his toolbox and turned on his heel to leave the building.

  ‘What do you mean?’ Prue called after him, running to the door to catch up with him.

  ‘I’ll send you my invoice.’ He called back, without even turning back to look at her.

  Prue shut the door behind him and sunk down to the floor. Despair filled her body as she tried to un-tangle the mass of jumbled thoughts whizzing around her head. She wanted to immerse herself into village life and be respected by the villagers and yet here she was seemingly about to embark on a venture that would only anger them more. This place deserved to be shared though, it really was a treasure trove of books and a reader’s dream. Not to mention the endless memories that were trapped inside of these four walls. With a new resolve Prue stood up and picked up her feather duster. She would show the villagers that she was here to stay and unlike her grandmother she wanted to be an integral part of their daily life, not just there to benefit from them paying their rent.

  With a renewed sense of determination Prue began to dust the books behind the counter, these were the older and rarer editions. From her experiences in auction houses Prue recognised the value of these books immediately. However, there was one particular book that stood out from the others. It wasn’t old, nor did it look special in anyway. With her curiosity piqued Prue put her duster down and pulled the book from the shelf. It was leather bound like the others, however where the others had their colours faded this one was still a vibrant red. It felt heavy in Prue’s hands as she turned it over to see the cover. The cover had a beautiful gold gilded dragonfly on the front, similar to the one on the Clemonte crest. Prue made her way over to the leather chair, which had now be cleaned and buffed to within an inch of its life. She sat down and pulled her legs up underneath her, snuggling into the warm embrace of the chair. As she opened the cover to the book Prue felt her heart skip a beat.

  She read the two lines over and over.

  This diary belongs to:

  Dorothy Clemonte

  It was her mother’s diary. Prue wondered whether this diary would tell her why the villagers were so against the bookshop and the Clemonte family. Her hands trembled as she turned the next page to see her mother’s handwriting scrawled across it. Prue paused before she began reading, it didn’t feel quite right. Her mother had obviously hidden the diary for a reason. Shouldn’t she respect that and leave her mother’s thoughts and secrets alone? With a sigh Prue put the diary in her bag, it would be safer back at the manor. Prue didn’t know whether to read it or to leave it be. On the one hand she was eager to know what was inside it but she also knew that she should respect her mother’s privacy. With a sigh she stood up from the chair and went to busy herself cleaning, it would do no good to sit and mull things over all afternoon.

  By the time the sun had set Prue had cleaned every inch of the little bookshop. If the village had a taxi service she would have treated herself to a ride home, however it didn’t and so she was forced to walk. The hills felt endless and higher than Mount Everest. By the time she reached the front door to the manor every part of her ached and her forehead glistened with a fresh layer of sweat. There was nothing that Prue wanted more than a long soak in a hot bath and so that was exactly what she did.

  The was tub filled almost to the top with lavender scented bubbles bobbing around on the surface. Prue sighed in relief as she submerged herself in the water. It wasn’t until she relaxed and allowed her mind to wander that she remembered she had her mother’s diary sat at the bottom of her bag where she had discarded it in the hallway. Prue’s fingers itched to grab the diary and start reading it but she knew it would be wrong. With a sigh she promised herself that she would respect her mother’s privacy and leave the diary alone. At least for now.

  Chapter Six

  The following day Prue woke feeling much happier. Although the little bookshop was clean and tidy it still needed a few finishing touches to make it perfect for its grand reopening. Prue was planning on visiting the shop today to make a list of things she needed, before travelling to one of the bigger towns tomorrow to buy everything on her list. Yesterday Prue had discovered a door at the back of the shop which led into a tiny kitchenette, just big enough for one person to move around comfortably. The kitchenette had needed a good scrub but once the layer of dust had been removed it looked fairly functional, it was only missing one fundamental appliance - a coffee machine. In addition to a coffee machine there were a few other little things that Prue wanted to purchase to make the bookshop feel even cosier. She wanted a throw to drape over the leather chair, a couple of stools to allow others to sit and flick through a book and the final thing on Prue’s list was a globe. As a child she remembered accompanying her grandmother on a handful of shopping trips and she would always beg to go into the bookshop that had a globe in the middle of the shop. She would run straight to it and stare in awe at all the places in the world that she was yet to discover. Prue’s vision for the bookshop was to turn it into a little haven for readers and people who just wanted to nip in and relax.

  Prue flourished when she had a task at hand and having a task that meant so much to her filled her with joy. She may not have many memories of her mother but she would make sure her legacy was a success. Prue would use the bookshop to weave her way into the heart of the village. She hadn’t quite worked out how she was going to achieve it, but she would. In theory it was a brilliant plan.

  With a bounce in her step Prue got ready for the day. Knowing that she wouldn’t be scrubbing every surface in sight Prue took her favourite dress down from her wardrobe. It was a black and white polkadot tea dress that was cut just above the knee. She curled her hair and applied some bright red lipstick. Now she felt ready to face the day. Prue slipped on her black heels and picked up her bag, she was going to drive to the shop today, there was no way she would survive a second day of walking back up that hill.

  The drive into the village was serene, it was yet again another beautiful day outside. Prue felt like a weight had been lifted from her shoulders after deciding not to read her mother’s diary. The book was now stashed away in her desk drawer at home. She still felt a pull to open it up and discover all of her mother’s hidden secrets but she knew what a betrayal it would be. Still, it was difficult to know that so many memories lay unread and just waiting for Prue to pick the book up and start reading. Prue Clemonte enjoyed everything to do with history, after all she had worked at an auction house. One of Prue’s favourite things about her job was picking up an item and imagining its history and what it had seen. Each item held memories of someone’s lifetime and to Prue that meant a lot.

  Prue forced herself to focus on the present as she parked the car and made a mental note to start thinking about buying a new car, something smaller and easier to park. Her heart skipped a beat as she approached the little bookshop and remembered that it was all hers. The sign above the door was just about visible in the sun today, despite the paint having mostly chipped off. From what Prue could still read it looked as though it was once called The Vintage Bookshop of Memories. The name was befitting, it was romantic and yet described the place so perfectly. She would ensure that the sign was restored to its original glory.

  An hour later Prue’s list had grown substantially and she was beginning to wonder how she would ever have the shop ready to open again. Just as she was giving up hope there was a knock at the door. Prue jumped and dropped both her notepad and pen. She was thankful that the knock hadn’t been two minutes earlier when she was prancing around the shop singing ABBA tunes at the top of her voice. Prue could never resist ABBA.

  ‘Hello?’ She called, swinging the door open to see a rather good looking man on the other side who was beaming back at her.

  ‘Prue Clemonte?’ He asked, his dark eyes were bori
ng into hers. Prue stood there taking in his appearance from his jet black hair, chiseled jaw covered in a smattering of stubble and his crisp suit. He was very good looking.

  ‘Hello?’ His voice echoed throughout the shop, making Prue jump again.

  ‘How can I help you?’ Prue asked, trying to regain her composure and cover the fact that she had just been standing there like an idiot admiring his good looks for the past god knows how long.

  ‘My name’s Elliot Harrington. I work with Mr Adley.’ Of course he was here on business, a good looking man like him would never just come knocking on her door.

  ‘Please Mr Harrington, come in.’ Prue moved to the side to allow the man through the door.

  ‘Call me Elliot, please.’ Prue watched as Elliot stepped into the shop and looked around in awe at the place. She was glad she wasn’t the only one who was overwhelmed by the beauty of the bookshop.

  ‘How can I help you Elliot?’ Prue retrieved her notepad and pen from the floor and walked over to the counter whilst Elliot averted his eyes from his surroundings and re-focused on her.

  ‘Mr Adley has been going through all the paperwork and he found a letter addressed to you.’ He explained, pulling a battered looking envelop from his pocket. Prue took it from him and turned it over in her hands, the front simply said ‘Prudence’ and it looked to be in her mother’s handwriting.

  ‘Thank you for delivering this Elliot.’ Prue smiled, she was trying to be polite but all she wanted was to sit down in the comfy chair and read this letter, with nobody around to disturb her.

  ‘You’re welcome miss. Is it true that this place is haunted?’

  ‘Haunted?’ Prue asked. She had known something had happened but the last thing she had expected was for it to be haunted.

  ‘It’s probably nothing but as a child we were always told that it was haunted. Perhaps it was just to stop kids from breaking in.’ He explained, his eyes glancing nervously around the shop. Prue wondered what had happened within these four-walls that meant her grandmother had to make up stories about the shop being haunted.

  ‘Not that I’m aware of. I believe my mother opened the shop, although I’m not sure why it shut. I would imagine that the villagers didn’t much like her being amongst them.’ Prue hadn’t meant to have such a bitter edge to her tone but she couldn’t help it. Her family had helped the villagers for years, fairly renting land to them that they otherwise couldn’t have afforded. Yet all the people saw was them pretending to be Lords of the Manor and not caring about their subjects. They couldn’t have been further from the truth. All Prue wanted was to allow everyone to continue living their life, she just wanted to be able to live happily beside them.

  ‘Ah. Yes I don’t think you’re the village favourite if I’m completely honest.’ Elliot replied with an almost sheepish look on his face.

  ‘I’m aware.’ Prue rolled her eyes and tried to fight the memories from the other morning in the cafe. That was not an experience she wished to relive.

  ‘I best be off. See you around.’ Elliot smiled at her before letting himself out of the shop.

  Prue stared after him feeling somewhat confused. She had only been home for a week and yet she had already adjusted to a life of isolation. Meeting Elliot today had reminded her how much she enjoyed being around others and talking to them. It also helped that he was very good looking.

  With a jolt Prue remembered what she was holding in her hand. A letter from her mother. She made her way over to the leather chair and sat down, with trembling hands she undid the envelop and slid a single piece of paper out. The note had been written on a cream piece of paper with a boarder of vintage books. The paper was almost insignificant to the words on it, however Prue knew that it was the exact sheet of paper she would have chosen for an important note. With a deep breath and a tissue to hand Prue began reading her mother’s words.

  ◆◆◆

  My darling Prue,

  As I sit and write this you’re lying in your cot, only a few days old.

  You’re the most beautiful little girl I’ve ever laid eyes upon.

  Prue, I wanted to leave you a few clues. I’m not sure what the future holds for either of us and incase anything happens to me I want you to be able to learn who you truly are. I’m going to give this letter to Mr Adley and instruct him to only give it to you if both me and you grandmother are dead. I hope this day never comes but I have to be prepared since it’s only the two of us.

  Prue, you may only be a few days old but you’re my world. I’m sorry I couldn’t give you a proper family. I promise to do my best for you.

  I’m sure you’ve wondered on many occasions who your father is. If you’ve asked me or your grandmother we won’t have told you. You see it caused a few problems in the village when your father and I were together. We were very different people and we couldn’t be together.

  He doesn’t know about you and I’m sorry about that. It’s how it had to be.

  I’m worried who may see this letter and so I cannot write his name. I can leave you a clue though.

  Look for him in my diary, you’ll find it in the bookshop.

  All my love,

  Mum

  P.S If you’re anything like me you’ll be itching to read the diary. Read it if you want to. By the time you find out who your father is there’ll be no more secrets.

  xxx

  ◆◆◆

  Her father. Prue had never thought much about her father. As a child she spent most of the academic year at boarding school and whilst some of the girls spoke of their fathers they were all alone at school. Perhaps now was the time to think about her father. Prue was suddenly hit by a revelation, her father could be alive. If he was then perhaps she didn’t have to do this alone, she didn’t have to face the village wrath with nobody by her side. There was another side of her that felt as though she were betraying both her mother and grandmother, they had kept him a secret from her for a reason. Did she really want to delve into the unknown when she was happy enough getting by on her own? A part of her wanted to know what the secrets were that her mother alluded to, however another part of her just wanted to ignore it all. Life wasn’t perfect but Prue didn’t want to open up a whole box of secrets and complicate things even more. Her mind wandered to where the diary was hidden away in her drawer, it would be so easy to just pick it up and start reading.

  Chapter Seven

  After reading the letter Prue had gone straight home to the manor. She wanted to completely shut herself away from the outside world and wallow in her loneliness. As she drove out of the village she saw all the glares and hateful glances that each person sent her way. Prue wanted to endure the storm and show the village that she was here for good and for their benefit but there was only so much hate she could cope with. She got home and made herself a cup of tea, with tears pouring down her cheeks, before venturing into the one room in the house that sent a chill down her spine. Her mother’s room. Despite the eeriness of it Prue felt a pull towards the room and the memories that it held, of one of the most important people in her life.

  The room was exactly how her mother had left it on the day she died, although the medical equipment had since been removed. Dorothy had been unwell her entire life and over the years her health had deteriorated and so Prue’s grandmother had hired a live-in nurse, until the day she had to go into hospital. The room was as if time had stood still, her blusher brush stood on the make up table with the compact powder left open, collecting dust. The pale pink curtains were tied back in little bows, just how her mother had liked them. Every little piece of that room was exactly how she had left it on that fateful day. Prue didn’t remember that day but her grandmother had told her what had happened. It had been a dull September day, the winds were whipping up and a storm was forecast for that evening. Everyone was being warned to stay indoors and keep safe. Her mother’s heart was struggling more and more with every breath she took and so they had taken the decision to call an ambulance. Prue had been le
ft behind with her nanny with the promise that they would be home soon. Sometimes Prue dreamed of that night as the wind howled outside and she waited for her mother and grandmother to return home. She was unsure how much was based on her own memories and how much was based on what she had been told. Either way, the empty feeling that it left her with would always haunt Prue.

  Prue didn’t really know how to feel about her mother’s death. Of course she was sad and she missed her and yet she had been so young that she didn’t remember much about her mother. It was a strange thing to grieve for someone that you didn’t know and yet she didn’t feel that way about her father. Prue had always yearned for a mother-figure in her life. Her grandmother ensured that she never went without and dropped her off at boarding school at the beginning of each new term but other than that she had no parental figures in her life, other than the endless nannies. That was okay though, after all it had shaped her into the woman she was today.

  As Prue wandered around her mother’s room she tried to make a decision. Did she search for the father that she felt no connection to or did she just carry on life as normal? It felt like such a big decision for just one person to make. She walked over to the window and watched as the sun set over the village. As Prue searched within herself she knew that being accepted by the villagers was more important to her than being accepted by her father. A thought crossed her mind though, her mother had dropped a hint about the village and her father being connected. Her mind was jumbled with chaotic thoughts all merging into one another. With a sigh Prue made a decision. The information about her father was in that diary, it wasn’t going anywhere. For now Prue had to create a life for herself and find her place in the village before she could go searching for another part of her. Her mother had mentioned there being secrets and so Prue had to find these out before she delved into the diary. Prue went to get the diary from her drawer and placed it on her mother’s bed. It would be there for whenever she was ready.