How to Find Love in a Book Shop

There was a spot of colour on each of Sarah’s cheeks. ‘I loved your father. Very much.’


If she thought about it, she could still feel that love now. A burning heat that went into her very bones; a ball of warmth where her heart sat. They had never known what to do with their love. Acknowledging it in public would have taken them into another realm; a set of circumstances Sarah knew she couldn’t manage. Her duty was to her husband, her family and Peasebrook. She couldn’t compromise that duty. It wasn’t fair on anyone, but most of all it wasn’t fair on Julius. He protested that he didn’t mind, but Sarah did. She always felt terrible, that he had got the raw end of the deal, and that she was somehow having her cake and eating it.

But if she ever talked about ending it, which she did from time to time when the guilt gnawed at her in the darkness of dawn, he would pull her to him and kiss her. Oh, how they had kissed. Endless kisses that reached deep inside her. Was there anything more momentous, she wondered? To kiss someone so hard you could feel your soul fuse with theirs?

She wasn’t proud of her relationship with Julius, for it compromised the two men she loved. For she still loved Ralph in her own way, despite everything he had put her through. Though the two of them lived very separate lives they still had much in common, not least Alice. Never in a million years would she have walked out on what they had.

But she had needed Julius. She knew it was selfish, to carry on, even though he insisted it didn’t matter to him. As long as he could have a little bit of her, it didn’t matter to him.

She couldn’t explain all this to Emilia. Emilia was young. She wouldn’t understand the subtleties and compromises and dilemmas that came with later life. And she didn’t want to sully Emilia’s memory of Julius by making him out to be less than morally upright.

So she chose her words carefully.

‘I loved your father, but of course, I’m married, and he was very aware of that. He was a very understanding and considerate man. He respected my situation. But we became very close …’

She hoped what she was saying made sense. She wasn’t actually lying. She hadn’t denied anything as such. It was equivocation, if anything. She didn’t need to go into details about the intensity of what they had. The extraordinary passion, even if it had felt pure.

Emilia didn’t say anything for a while. When she finally spoke, her voice was gentle.

‘I’m glad,’ she said. ‘I’m glad he had someone as lovely as you. To care about him. To think about when he woke up in the morning.’ A tear slid out onto her cheek. ‘Sorry. It’s just … I miss him.’

She rubbed her eye with the heel of her hand. Sarah jumped to her feet. She could never bear to see anyone cry – it might be her duty to keep her emotions in check when it came to herself, but when it came to others, she was open and caring. She sat on the sofa next to Emilia and hugged her.

‘I miss him too,’ she said. ‘Dreadfully.’

‘I’m just glad he wasn’t lonely.’ Emilia’s voice wavered. She sounded like a small girl trying desperately not to cry harder. ‘I always worried that he was lonely. He was such a wonderful man. He deserved to be loved.’

‘Oh, he was loved. Be sure of that.’

Emilia leant into Sarah. It was wonderful to be comforted by someone who had loved her father.

‘Nobody knew about us, of course. We could never tell anyone. But I’m taking the risk of telling you because I think you’ll understand. And because I want you to know that I’m always here if you need me,’ Sarah told her. ‘I know Julius would have wanted me to look out for you. And if I can be of support, in any way, just let me know. Even if it’s just to talk about him. Or just to come up for tea. Or wine. Or anything. Anything.’

Emilia held Sarah’s hands and looked at her. She could see now the depth of the sadness in Sarah’s eyes. And she could feel the warmth and kindness that Julius must have been drawn to. And she was grateful to Sarah, for her compassion and honesty. It must have been a painful confession. She felt honoured to be trusted with the secret. She supposed when she had time to think about it, she might be shocked, but she wasn’t going to judge. She found it a comfort, that Julius had this woman’s devotion. And she knew, from all the books she had ever read, that life was complicated, that love sprang from nowhere sometimes, and that forbidden love wasn’t always something to be ashamed of.





Sixteen

A few days later, Bea laid a presentation folder in front of Emilia with a proud smile.

‘I tried really hard not to get too carried away,’ she said.

She had made it into the shape of a book. On the front it read Nightingale Books, in silver writing on navy blue. She’d designed a logo – N and B entwined, with a tendril of roses and a tiny nightingale perched amongst them.

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