The Vintage Bookshop of Memories

by Elizabeth Holland

  As lunchtime approached Prue heard footsteps along the cobbled street leading up to the shop. She was grateful to have a customer to distract herself before she started sobbing over the heartbreak that this shop had witnessed. Prue watched in horror as Elliot pushed the door open and walked into the shop. Thankfully there were no other customers and no villagers to spread rumours about his visit.

  ‘What do you want?’ Prue asked, her tone was a little harsher than she meant it to be but she’d had a stressful morning and seeing Elliot was the last thing she needed.

  ‘I came to see you.’ He shrugged, looking a little taken back at her attitude towards him. Prue almost felt herself feeling sorry for him but then she remembered how quickly he had moved on with the blonde in the pub.

  ‘Well you’ve seen me so now you can go.’ Now she had adopted this standoffish tone Prue couldn’t stop and if she was honest with herself she just wanted him to leave. She really didn’t need the added stress.

  ‘Don’t be like this Prue. At the very least I think I deserve an explanation, you did dump me by text after all.’

  Prue was starting to feel angry, how dare he come here and have a go at her! He was the one whose dysfunctional family had tormented her life since coming back to the village. It was also his father that had been writing to her father and had told him about her existence.

  ‘Excuse me for thinking you didn’t care when you’ve already moved on with another woman. I’d like you to leave now please.’ Prue stood up from behind the counter and made her way round towards Elliot in an attempt to herd him towards the door.

  ‘You’re too caught up in the past, that’s your problem Prue. Your head is constantly stuck reliving other people’s lives, rather than your own, even your dress sense is from another era. You need to live your life Prue and stop comparing it to the past. Memories are something to look back on, you have to live in the present to create them. You’re far too busy living in other people’s memories to make any of your own.’

  Prue hadn’t been expecting those words to come from Elliot’s mouth. Yes she liked history, after all she wouldn’t be a very good at her job if she didn’t. She also enjoyed dressing in 1940’s clothes. It didn’t mean she was obsessed with the past, did it? She just had an appreciation for memories and keeping past times alive. There was nothing wrong in honouring the past.

  ‘I think you better leave Elliot, now.’ The anger on both of their faces was apparent, each of them using the emotion to cloak the heartbreak that they were truly feeling.

  Without uttering another word Elliot left the shop and Prue slammed the door shut behind him, locking the door to ensure he couldn’t return. How dare he barge into her shop and accuse her of living in the past. A tiny part of Prue’s brain started to question whether he had a point. The entire village was living in the past, it was how she had been brought up. Perhaps she needed to reconsider her outlook on life and start looking more towards future, rather than the past. Although those thoughts did make some sense Prue angrily pushed them away. She would not accept that Elliot had a point. He had shown himself to be just like his father, rude and judgmental and she would be happy if she never set eyes on him again.

  Chapter Twenty Five

  The next couple of days passed in a blur as Prue stuck to her daily routine of working at the shop all day, going home and having dinner and then going straight to bed. Katie had tried calling her a couple of times but she had ignored her, allowing each call to go to voicemail. She knew at some point she would have to return her calls, it would be cruel to leave Katie worrying, but for now Prue didn’t want to speak to anyone. Working in the shop all day was exhausting as she tried to hide the upset and anger that was bubbling away inside of her. The only up-side was that the villagers were all supporting the bookshop and were regularly popping in and making purchases. It gave Prue hope for the future. She almost felt like texting Elliot and pointing out that she was looking towards the future not the past. She didn’t though, it would be petty and she knew it would only anger her more when he didn’t reply.

  Prue was focusing on just getting through each day and to her relief every time she woke up she found herself feeling a little less unhappy. Every now and then thoughts about her father crept into her mind and she couldn’t help but wonder what he was doing at that moment in time. Last night Prue had held the piece of paper in her hand and stared down at it. She contemplated sending him a letter but she knew she wouldn’t be satisfied with just a letter. If he didn’t want anything to do with her then she wanted to hear that from him, face-to-face, at least that way she would have met him and would have a face to put to the memories.

  It was Friday morning and Prue was browsing some online book auctions to restock the shelves. She loved second-hand books, all she could think about was how many other people had held them and rejoiced in the pages. They held so many memories. Yet again Prue found herself wishing that the books could speak, she was fascinated to know what they had seen and who they had been held by. Perhaps she was a little obsessed with the past but there was nothing wrong with that. She preferred to think of it as an appreciation, rather than an obsession.

  The door opened and Prue looked up with her best customer worthy smile but she was taken-aback to see Maggie stood in the doorway looking a little apprehensive.

  ‘Maggie! Please come in.’ Prue stood up from her seat behind the counter and flapped her arms, not really sure what to do to encourage the woman to come in.

  ‘Thank you dear. I can’t be long as I had only popped out for a loaf of bread but I just wanted to stop by and see how you were doing.’ The woman walked into the shop and closed the door behind her. She was looking very smart today dressed in a pair of green jeans and a brown wax Barbour jacket, her dark hair was pulled back into a low pony tail.

  ‘I’m doing really well thank you.’ Prue replied in an overly happy tone. Maggie immediately gave her a reproving look and made her way towards the comfortable leather chair and took a seat.

  ‘Why don’t you make us both a cup of tea and we can have a little chat.’ The way Maggie said it reminded her of the assurance that both Elliot and his father had. Prue knew that there would be no way out of this little chat and so she went to put the kettle on.

  ‘Why are you really here Maggie?’ Prue asked as she stood in the doorway to the kitchenette waiting for the kettle to boil.

  ‘I spoke to Elliot yesterday and he told me about what happened when he came round the other day. I told him off Prue, I don’t think he was right to accuse you of living in the past.’

  Unsure what to say in response Prue nipped back into the kitchenette and made their drinks, giving herself enough time to compose her features and stop herself from giving too much away.

  ‘So you said you were friends with my mother?’ Prue sat back down behind the counter and prompted Maggie to start talking, whilst also distracting her from asking questions about Elliot.

  ‘We were. When we were little we would play together around the village. I’m a few years older than your mum but that didn’t matter. We had great fun foraging around the fields and your grandad would take us for drives in his convertible car.’ Prue never got to meet her grandad as he had died when her mother was only fifteen.

  ‘How comes you grew apart?’ Prue asked, she was always eager to hear people’s memories of her mother. It was like she had the opportunity to get to know her all over again.

  ‘I married Arnold when I turned eighteen and our lives went in different directions. Your mother went off to study literature at university, meanwhile I was busy helping Arnold to keep the farm afloat. As you know the village aren’t keen on social classes mixing and so our friendship was never encouraged. I think things have improved since you came back Prue. The villagers see you as a part of the community rather than an outsider who owns everything in sight.’ It was reassuring to hear Maggie speak of her being accepted into village life.

  ‘That’s what I want Maggie. I wa
nt to be a part of the village life. I grew up here, this is my home.’

  ‘You want to find your father too.’ Maggie wasn’t asking a question, it was a statement.

  ‘Yes, I do. I’ve never really thought about him but now I know of his existence and the part he played in my mother’s life I feel as though I must meet him. It’s like a chapter in a book, I have to finish it even if I don’t like the outcome.’

  ‘Prue, be careful. Your father was heartbroken when he had to leave your mother and I think he’s built a lot of walls up to protect himself. He may not be the loving father you want.’ Maggie’s warning shocked Prue, she hadn’t even began to consider how her father might have felt. In her eyes he had made the decision to leave her mother but perhaps he hadn’t felt like he had a choice. With a sudden realisation Prue remembered how she had justified breaking up with Elliot - it was for the best, for both of them. Perhaps she was more like her father than she had ever realised.

  ‘I have to know Maggie. I can’t go through the rest of my life always wondering exactly why he left and why he chose to never come back. At the very least I must try to find out why he didn’t fight for my mum and why he never came back for me.’ The desperation in Prue’s tone was obvious.

  ‘Then you must go in search of him.’ With that Maggie stood up and placed her empty cup down on the counter and made her way towards the door.

  ‘Thank you for stopping by.’ Prue called after her, she was genuinely feeling a little bit happier after speaking to Maggie.

  ‘I’ll come back soon. Prue, give Elliot another chance. You’re strong enough to change the village’s way of thinking if you want to. Don’t stop yourself from being happy.’

  The words hung in the air as Maggie left, shutting the door firmly behind her. Prue really didn’t know how she felt about Elliot anymore, she was beyond confused. Right now she had to focus on making a decision about finding her father. Her feelings towards Elliot had to be buried for the time being. Besides, it didn’t matter how she felt, he had made his feelings very clear both through his words and his actions by moving on.

  Chapter Twenty Six

  It wasn’t until the weekend that Prue felt the loneliness sink in. She’d always been happy in her own company but right now she was longing for someone to come along and distract her from life. It was Saturday morning and she was sat behind the counter in the bookshop watching customers come and go, some would buy a book, others would just browse. It was nice to see the place buzzing with people and yet it only emphasised her loneliness. Only last week Katie had been by Prue’s side for the opening of the bookshop and yet here she was a week later feeling completely alone. The piece of paper with her father’s address on was in her pocket, she hadn’t let it out of her sight since Arnold had given it to her. Prue knew that sooner or later she would contact him. She had too many unanswered questions and a part of her yearned for a parent.

  ‘Are you okay dear?’ Prue pulled herself away from her pity party and focused on who was stood in front of her. It was Mrs Edwards, one of the elderly ladies from the village. When Prue was a child Mrs Edwards ran the tea rooms and even then she seemed ancient. These days the elderly woman rented one of the Clemonte’s cottages and lived in solitude since her husband’s death five years ago.

  ‘Sorry I was just a little distracted.’ Prue looked at the pile of books on the counter in front of her and began the process of ringing them up on the old fashioned till.

  ‘It’s lovely to see this place open again. You know your mother met your father here.’ The statement shocked Prue into looking up. How did this woman know so much about her parents? Everyone else in the village avoided the topic of her parents and yet here Mrs Edwards was openly discussing them.

  ‘You knew my father?’ Prue asked, her hands frozen in mid air.

  ‘I did, he’s my nephew.’

  Prue didn’t know what to say or do. The woman stood opposite her was family. She had been living in the same village her entire life and yet Prue never knew that they were related.

  ‘Mrs Edwards, could I speak to you about my father?’ Prue’s voice was hoarse, she could scarcely believe that she had met somebody who was related to her father.

  ‘Of course you can dear, why don’t you drop those books off tonight and come in for a slice of cake and a chat?’

  They agreed that Prue would go round once she had closed the shop and with that Mrs Edwards went home to bake a cake. Prue felt somewhat dazed by what had just happened. Mrs Edwards was family and yet nobody had ever told her, had her grandmother even known? It was all too much to comprehend on a Saturday morning with only one cup of coffee coursing through her veins.

  Somehow Prue made it to the end of the day with only a handful of mishaps. She breathed a sigh of relief once she locked the door behind her last customer of the day. It had definitely been one of the longest days she had ever experienced. Prue decided she would tidy the shop the following morning and so she grabbed Mrs Edward’s books and made her way to her cottage. It was a short walk as she only lived on the other side of the village green.

  The cottage was small but sweet with a brick path up to a wooden stable door. It was incredibly picturesque and looked like a very happy place to live. With a light tremble Prue knocked on the front door and waited for an answer. She didn’t know what to expect from their impending conversation, all she knew was that she was about to spend an hour or two with a family member. Somebody that knew her father. It was a daunting prospect and yet excitement was also fizzing up inside of Prue.

  The door swung open and Mrs Edwards stood there, she had changed into a smart summer dress with little butterflies covering it. Her grey hair had been neatly curled into a halo around her head and there was a smattering of makeup on her face. Prue smiled to herself at the effort the woman had gone to for their slice of cake and a chat. Despite their difference in social standing, her grandmother would have approved.

  ‘Hello dear, come on in.’ She stepped aside to allow Prue into the little house. The inside was just as quaint as the outside. Prue found herself walking directly into the little living room. It was small but cosy with two pale pink sofas and a coffee table with a lace tablecloth over it. On top of the table proudly sat a cake stand with a Victoria sponge cake in the middle of it. To say it looked mouth-wateringly delicious would be an understatement.

  ‘I brought your books Mrs Edwards, where would you like them?’ Prue looked around for a suitable place to put them but every surface was either covered in picture frames or knick-knacks.

  ‘Call me Carol, after all we are family. I’ll take them from you and pop them on my shelf in the kitchen. You take a seat and I’ll be back in a minute with a pot of tea.’

  Prue went to offer her help but the look on Carol’s face told her not to and so instead she took a seat on one of the pink sofas and waited for the woman to return. There was something comforting about the old-fashioned style of the cottage.

  A few minutes later Carol wandered back in with a pot of tea, two vintage cups and a couple of plates for their cakes, all on a tray. Prue watched in silence as the woman expertly cut two doorstop-sized slices of cake and poured the tea.

  ‘It’s nice to have somebody to feed. After all those years running The Tea Room it feels strange to only cook for one these days.’ The sadness was evident in Carol’s tone and just a glance at her eyes showed the true pain she was feeling. Prue could relate, she knew what it was like to go from being surrounded by people to being left on your own to fend for yourself.

  ‘I wish I had known sooner that we were family.’ Prue couldn’t help the wistful tone that had accompanied her words. How different her life might have been if she had known about Carol from the start. All those trips to The Tea Room, to have been served by Carol herself and not knowing that they shared the same blood. Prue was certain she would never learn the truth as to why her grandmother kept so many secrets from her but she was dead now and it was Prue’s time to trace her r
emaining family. There was nobody left to upset. Well, that wasn’t strictly true, many of the villagers would most likely be upset to know Prue was trying to track down her father, however their opinion didn’t matter to her. If her grandmother had still been alive then Prue knew for sure that she would not have pursued this in fear of upsetting her.

  ‘Your grandmother thought it would be easier for you if you didn’t know we were related. As I’m sure you already know, the village was unhappy about your mother and father’s relationship. After your mother’s death your grandmother took it upon herself to shield you from any further pain or disappointment and so we agreed that we wouldn’t speak of your father.’ Carol took a sip of her tea whilst Prue digested the information that she had just received. All along she had thought that perhaps her grandmother had kept all this from her because she wanted to uphold their place in society, not once had it occurred to her that she may have been doing it to protect Prue.

  ‘How did you feel about that Carol?’ Prue asked as she politely took a bite of the cake in front of her. It was delicious but Prue had completely lost her appetite.

  ‘I was upset of course but I still got to be a part of your life, unlike Robert. You may not have known me but I still got to see you grow up and we even had a chat or two when you came into the cafe.’

  The room was silent as Prue took a sip of tea to give herself enough time to compile her thoughts and compose her next question.

  ‘Did my father want to be a part of my life?’ It was the question that Prue was most dreading the answer to and so she decided to get it out the way with first. Knowing her father’s opinion on their relationship, or lack of, would help her know what other questions to ask.