The Vintage Bookshop of Memories

by Elizabeth Holland

  The evening was long and when Prue did fall asleep she had a restless sleep filled with dreams of the night her mother died. Prue was worried about whether or not she had made the right decision. Could turning your back on your own flesh and blood ever be considered the right decision? The birds sang outside Prue’s window alerting her to the fact that it was morning. As much as Prue wanted to hide under the duvet and pretend the world outside didn’t exist she knew she had to keep forging ahead. One day at a time.

  Prue managed a couple of hours of sleep in the early hours of the morning, when she woke she knew she had to push herself to keep going, to live her life as if nothing out of the ordinary was going on. Despite yesterday’s revelations she would stick to her original plans and make a start on buying the items on her list for the shop. As she climbed out of bed her gaze wandered to her mother’s bedroom door which was just across the hallway. A little peek would be all it took and then she would know her full heritage. She shook her head and turned her attention back to the task at hand, today was not the day to delve into her DNA.

  After a quick shower Prue felt a little more alert and ready to face the day. Perhaps she would call one of her friends in Brighton for a chat tonight, it would do her good to talk things through with someone. There’s only so much one person can have whizzing around their head. Prue took a burgundy tea dress from her wardrobe and settled on just pinning her hair back into a bun. She didn’t feel much like making an effort today. Sometimes she wished she was the kind of girl that could just grab a pair of jeans and a jumper, but she wasn’t. She didn’t even own a pair of jeans.

  Usually Prue was the kind of person who loved shopping. She enjoyed the buzz of the crowds and the frenzied look on everyone’s face as they hunted down pieces to buy. However, today the people annoyed her and everyone just seemed to be in her way. Slowly she was ticking things off of her list but it involved lots of trips back to the car to deposit bags. Sometimes being on her own was difficult and she yearned to have someone by her side, if only to carry a few bags.

  If Prue was honest with herself she knew that part of the reason she couldn't concentrate was because her mind was still reeling from her mother’s revelation. It was ridiculous, not once had Prue ever wanted to know who her father was and yet here she was, presented with the possibility of a name and it had completely thrown her.

  Prue took a deep breath after dropping another load of bags off at the car. She had to push these thoughts to the back of her mind and concentrate on today. Today was for buying pieces for the shop to make it hers, it wasn’t a day to focus on the past. She had to make a success of the bookshop. That was far more important than finding out a name, wasn’t it?

  Chapter Eight

  Once Prue stopped focusing on her parentage she found that she had a rather productive day. After ticking off everything on her list Prue had made the decision to stop off at one of the local car garages and she was now the proud owner of a vintage Mini. She had stared at the sparkling new cars with their air conditioning and bluetooth and willed herself to fall in love with one, but then she spotted the old green Mini and she knew at once nothing else on the forecourt would compare. The Mini had leather seats that would stick to her legs in the summer and the gear stick looked ancient. Despite this Prue had fallen in love with the memories that the Mini held. She thought about all the people that had driven it, all the trips that it had made and all the laughs that it had witnessed. Those memories were what stole her heart and now there the Mini was, sat proudly beside Prue’s vintage Bentley. Every time Prue glanced out of the window she felt a little flutter of excitement knowing that those two cars were all hers.

  She had glanced one more time at the cars before going to bed and the following morning the first thing she did was run to front door to check they were still there. It wasn’t a dream. Who needed parents when vintage cars existed? Prue chuckled to herself at her dark sense of humour, she had to laugh or else she might cry over her situation. She shook her head and went about getting herself ready for the day. The bags of shopping that she bought yesterday were waiting to be unpacked at the shop. Prue opted for a cream tea-dress, nipped in at the waist and covered in bumble bees, complete with a sweet Peter Pan collar. It was a little twee for her but she adored it. She threw a grey cardigan around her shoulders and pulled on some brogues. She was ready to go and put her own stamp on The Vintage Bookshop of Memories.

  A vintage Mini had been a great idea, although in hindsight she had done rather a lot of shopping yesterday. Somehow she managed to wedge each and every bag into the car and soon she was pootling along through the village enjoying every second of driving her new car. Her drive through the village was rather serene this morning, nobody recognised her in her new car and so she avoided the hateful glares as she drove through the main street. With ease Prue parked the car and began to make the numerous trips to the bookshop with all of her bags.

  ‘Can I help?’ A voice called, making her jump and hit her head on the boot of her car. With a hand clinging to her now pounding head Prue turned around to see who was offering to help her. Surely nobody in this village would help her? Prue was surprised to see Elliot, the man who had delivered her mother’s letter, standing behind her trying not to laugh. He was dressed just as smartly today with a black fitted suit, a white shirt and an emerald coloured tie which almost sparkled in the early morning sunlight. He may have been laughing at her but that didn’t stop him from being any less attractive, which made it difficult for Prue to glare back at him.

  ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you jump.’ He chuckled, reaching forward to pick up a handful of bags. Despite his annoying overly-happy-manner Prue was grateful for some help.

  ‘Lucky you work for Mr Adley so when I sue you you’ll be able to get employee’s discount.’ Prue watched as a look of horror flickered across Elliot’s face, her grave tone had obviously worked.

  ‘I’m sorry, I was only trying to help. Why don’t I treat you to lunch later to show you just how sorry I am?’ His smile had quickly returned as he shrugged off her attempt at teasing him.

  ‘Are you sure you want to be seen out with me? I’m village enemy number one.’ As much as Prue wanted to integrate herself into village life she didn’t want to risk putting anyone else in the way of the village’s wrath.

  ‘I’m sure I can handle it.’ He shrugged looking blasé, and shooting Prue a cheeky smile so that she almost dropped the bag she was holding.

  After another trip to and from the car Elliot left, promising to see Prue again at lunchtime. Prue was left staring after him wondering what had just happened. She had planned for a quiet day putting the final touches to her beloved bookshop and yet here she was with lunch plans. She felt almost nervous at the prospect of having lunch with Elliot but she was unsure whether it was because she was attracted to him or whether it was because of the village’s reaction. Prue knew it would do no good to spend the morning worrying over it and so she took off her cardigan and began to unbox the mountain of items she had bought.

  Perhaps she had gone a little overboard with her shopping but she had wanted to put her own mark on the bookshop, whilst honouring its priceless memories. Prue draped a beautiful tweed blanket over the back of the leather chair, it was in beautiful shades of grey and pale yellow. It made the old comfortable chair look even more inviting and invoked thoughts of curling up on it with a good book. As Prue delved into another bag she pulled out some vintage bunting. The little triangles were each made from offcuts of vintage clothes. When Prue saw them she knew that she had to have them, she was going to string them on the balcony railings.

  As the clock struck midday Prue took a step back and admired the changes that her finishing touches had brought about. The shop was starting to reflect her love for vintage things. In one of the antique shops she had come across lots of old teddy bears and so she had bought them to place around the shelves in the small area of the shop that was dedicated to children’s books. Somehow t
he magic that her mother had created inside this little bookshop was magnified by all of the little touches that Prue had added. In the middle of the shop was a huge round mahogany table which Prue had now furnished with a beautiful lace table cloth. She was going to change the table’s theme each week. This week she had opted to honour the war and would leave it that way until the shop opened. The table was scattered with fiction and non-fiction war books and poppies were scattered around the table. She hoped that the villagers might provide pictures of local soldiers that she could also display on the table. Prue knew she was getting a little ahead of herself but she meant it, she wanted the bookshop to be a part of the community, even if she couldn’t be.

  Before Prue’s mind could wander any further there was a knock at the door and Elliot let himself in.

  ‘Oh wow, it looks amazing.’ Prue watched in delight as Elliot spun around taking everything in. She watched as his eyes fell upon a retro suitcase filled with books. Prue had found the bag of books filling one of the little cupboards in the back kitchen. After some investigating she discovered that each book had an imperfection. Instead of throwing them away she decided to make a feature of it and offer them at a discounted price. Well if she was honest she had seen the suitcase, fallen in love with it and needed to justify buying it.

  ‘Do you still think it’s haunted?’ Prue asked, as she left Elliot staring in awe as she ran to grab her cardigan and handbag. It was warm in the shop but she suspected the late-April breeze outside would be chilly, not to mention the icy glares the majority of the village would be giving her.

  ‘No I think you might have scared the ghouls away.’ Elliot chuckled as he spun back round to see her coming out from the kitchenette. Prue watched as the breath caught in his throat and his eyes bore into hers. Perhaps this lunch wasn’t just a way to say sorry. With that in mind Prue felt a blush rise in her cheeks.

  ‘You ready?’ He asked, clearing his throat and edging towards the door. The atmosphere inside the shop had changed, its usual laidback feeling was almost electric, Prue could feel her skin fizzling.

  ‘Let’s go.’ She smiled, wanting to get out into the fresh air and shake this feeling. She wasn’t against a relationship right now, she just had lots to think about and she suspected Elliot Harrington would complicate things.

  They walked together through the church yard towards the village, leaving just enough space between them to ensure their hands didn’t accidentally brush against each other as they walked.

  ‘So Elliot Harrington, what’s your story?’ Prue wanted to know more about the brave man stood next to her, who was accompanying her into the lion’s den.

  ‘Well Miss Clemonte I’m a good honest country boy. Grew up with my parents and two brothers on one of the local farms. Then I did the unforgivable thing and decided I didn’t want to be a farmer, I wanted to go to law school. My father refused to speak to me during my entire time at university, it’s only since I came back from university that he’s finally started saying hello to me again. I’m now a trainee solicitor at Mr Adley’s firm and I live in one of the cottages on the outskirts of the village.’

  ‘Do you think your relationship with your dad will improve?’ Prue asked, trying to keep her voice level, she didn’t want to give away the fact that she fancied Elliot.

  ‘We’ll see. I don’t have high hopes, he’s very stuck in his ways. It doesn’t help that both of my brothers are working on the farm. I’m therefore the black sheep of my family, no pun intended.’ Prue chuckled at Elliot’s terrible joke. Behind the facade there was a sadness in his eyes, perhaps he longed for the same relationship with his father that his brothers had.

  ‘What about you Miss Clemonte, what’s your story?’ In a flash the sadness in Elliot's eyes had been replaced with a smile as he opened the churchyard gate, which led them to the main road through the village.

  ‘Well Mr Harrington, I’m the current Lady of the Manor. I suppose I didn’t really get the chance to decide whether or not I wanted to go into the family business, I just inherited it.’ Saying it out loud made Prue realise why she was so excited about the bookshop, this was something she wanted, whereas the responsibility of the estate was not something she wanted.

  ‘And what would you have chosen to do?’ Elliot asked with genuine interest on his face as he took her arm and steered her towards the village pub. Her arm tingled where he had touched her.

  ‘Before my grandmother’s death I was working in Brighton at an auction house, I valued the items.’

  Prue kept her answer short as they were just about to walk into the pub and the last thing she wanted was to draw any attention to herself. As the door swung open and they walked in every pair of eyes in there turned to look at them. Prue watched as anger crossed the faces of everyone in the building.

  ‘She’s not welcome in here.’ The man behind the bar growled at them, nodding his head towards Prue incase anyone didn’t know who he was talking about.

  ‘Come on Harry, we just want some lunch. Prue lives in this village too. In fact she owns this pub so surely that should give her rights?’ Prue wanted the ground to open up and swallow her. She appreciated Elliot trying to fight her corner but she really didn’t want any confrontation.

  ‘Well she can have the pub if she wants, not that anyone would drink here.’ The barman, Harry, called back through gritted teeth.

  ‘I don’t want the pub. Come on Elliot.’ Prue pulled Elliot back onto the street outside, she was absolutely mortified.

  ‘This behaviour is ridiculous. The village’s feud was between your grandmother and the villagers, not you.’

  ‘Elliot, do you know what the feud was about?’

  ‘I’m not sure, I was too young to remember when it all happened. My father would probably know.’

  Just as Elliot finished his sentence a bellowing voice came from the other side of the road.

  ‘Elliot Harrington, what do you think you’re doing?’

  Both Prue and Elliot turned towards the voice. It was the same man that had been shouting at Prue in the cafe earlier in the week.

  ‘Good afternoon, father!’ Elliot called back, a huge grin on his face. Prue’s face completely drained of colour, how could charming Elliot be the son of such a brute?

  ‘Here’s my card, give me a text and I’ll let you know if I find anything out.’ He shot Prue a quick wink before running across the road to where his father stood almost glowing with anger. Prue didn’t want to overhear their conversation and so she quickly made her way back to the bookshop. She had the kitchenette to sort out this afternoon. With a lot of discipline she stopped her mind from wandering and focused on washing the vintage tea cups she had bought yesterday and placing them carefully on the shelves. The little kitchen could do with a revamp at some point with its pale pink cupboards and wooden worktop, it was all bit too girly for Prue but it had suited her mother. Perhaps for that reason alone she would keep the kitchenette the way it was, as a little reminder that her mother was by her side.

  Chapter Nine

  Thankfully Prue had bought enough vintage tea cups to keep her busy all afternoon. Actually, she’d bought enough vintage tea cups to provide each member of the village with a cup of tea. Not that anyone would be coming to her for a sit down, a cup of tea and a natter. As Prue made her way back to the manor that evening she was grateful to have her new car so that none of the villagers recognised her, for now at least. She knew she would have to confront everyone at some point, she couldn’t continue to live like this. However, the idea of confronting the entire village made her very nervous, she would put it off for as long as possible.

  Prue was beginning to see the appeal of the Clemonte manor. It was big and foreboding but it was home. Once those wrought iron gates were shut behind her she felt safe inside her own little haven. The driveway was lined with rose trees on either side and in summer they would look and smell divine. This was her home and no matter how hostile the people were she wouldn’t be moved. As s
he climbed out of her car and walked up to the front door Prue took a moment to really appreciate her surroundings. The manor had a substantial amount of land surrounding it with an acre of manicured lawn out the back and formal gardens on either side of the driveway. Beyond the gardens were wild meadows rolling down towards the village. It was absolutely breathtaking and thanks to their lovely gardener, who lived on the edge of the estate, Prue didn’t have to worry about a thing. Prue let out a sigh as she looked towards the village, it looked so picturesque and inviting. To an outsider it would look like the perfect place to live, in reality it would only be perfect if the population moved. Prue sighed, why couldn’t they just be nice to her?

  Sometimes the silence in the manor was deafening. Prue was in need of a chat and so she made herself a gin fizz in a crystal tumbler and went to sit outside on the patio to call her friend Katie. Prue and Katie had been at university together and then opted to move to a house share together. They had shared a lot of happy moments living life to the full in Brighton. Although Prue was loving being home she missed having people around her. She missed the socialising and knowing that wherever she went in town there would always be someone to chat to. Here there was nobody, unless you counted Elliot but Prue doubted she would hear from him again. At some point that afternoon she had bravely pulled out her phone and given him a quick text. That way he had her number and so he could contact her if he wanted to.