‘It will be all hands to the pump,’ he continued. ‘Mouse has said he’ll help, as will Marguerite, who, by the way, is off again to France on Sunday. So it really would be awfully convenient all round if you are willing to stay on at High Weald for a while to assist me and Rory. Perhaps you might see it as a trial run, further to taking up a more permanent situation with me?’
‘Yes, I’ll come,’ I agreed. After all, what on earth would I do here once the shop was closed for good?
‘Wonderful! That’s settled then.’
We discussed how I would oversee the packing of the crates onto the van here in London, while Orlando cleared unwanted stock from the new premises to High Weald, and prepared for the van’s arrival.
That night, I told CeCe I was off to Kent in a couple of days’ time.
‘And then you’ll come back, won’t you?’ If her words didn’t beg me, her expression certainly did.
‘Of course.’
‘I mean, you’re not thinking of moving there, are you? For Christ’s sake, Star, you’re only a shop assistant, I’m sure you could find a far better paid job in London. I walked past Foyles bookshop the other day, and they were advertising for staff. It won’t take you long to find something.’
‘No, I’m sure it won’t.’
‘You know how I hate being alone here without you. Promise you’ll be back?’
‘I’ll do my best,’ I said. It was time to think of me, and I didn’t want to give CeCe false hope. After all, she wasn’t a helpless baby, like I had been when my mother had put her own life first . . .
As CeCe was sulking, I spent the next day at the shop from dawn to well after dusk. And by Friday morning, when the van pulled up outside the front door, I was ready. Orlando insisted on calling every few minutes to issue instructions, and in the end, I broke the golden rule and answered my mobile in the shop.
Some of the ‘regulars’ appeared, looking on in sadness at the books being carted onto the van. I was prepared for that too, as Orlando and I had chosen a book for each of them as a parting gift. Once the van had left, with Orlando’s few possessions from his flat crammed onto the back, I wandered round the deserted shop, feeling it really was the end of an era, one that stretched right back through the family threads to Beatrix Potter herself.
My last job was to remove the framed letter Beatrix had written to Flora when she’d been a young girl, and wrap it in brown paper to carry it personally to Kent with me. As I did so, I promised myself that I would one day travel to the Lake District to see where Flora had lived. Even though I knew there was no blood connection, I felt a kinship with her. She too had been unusual – an outcast, belonging nowhere. But she had survived through sheer grit and determination. And had eventually found where she belonged, with the man she loved.
‘Goodbye,’ I whispered into the gloom, looking for the last time at the room where my life had changed forever.
I arrived by taxi in Tenterden later that evening, and stood outside the new shop, its lights blazing out into the foggy night. I looked up at the freshly painted front – Orlando had chosen a bottle green, the same colour as the Kensington shop. Above the window was the vague outline of the sign writer’s initial lettering. And I was glad that at least one member of the Forbes/Vaughan clan was happy tonight.
Orlando weaved his way through the crates towards me.
‘Welcome, Miss Star, to my new home. Mouse and Marguerite are due down here at any moment. I have sent next door for champagne. The Meadows will be joining us too. Do you know, I think I might even prefer this to the old place? Just look at the view.’
I did so, and saw the trees on the green beyond the narrow path, the old-fashioned street lamps twinkling gently between them.
‘It’s lovely.’
‘And there’s even a connecting door to the café, so no more foil tins for lunch. It will arrive steaming on plates instead, straight from the oven. Ah.’ Orlando looked behind me and waved. ‘They’ve arrived.’
I saw that Mouse’s old Land Rover had pulled up outside. Both Marguerite and Rory followed him into the shop.
‘Just in time,’ Orlando announced as I recognised Mrs Meadows appearing out of a door at the back of the shop, carrying a tray of glasses and champagne, accompanied by a squat older man wearing a spotted bow tie.
‘Mr and Mrs Meadows, I believe you know my brother and my dear cousin Marguerite. And Rory, of course. You have met my assistant briefly, Mrs Meadows,’ Orlando added as he led me forward. ‘This is the perfectly named Asterope D’Aplièse, more commonly known as “Star”. And that she is,’ he finished, looking down at me fondly.
Orlando left me with the Meadows to greet the rest of his family. I sipped a glass of champagne and chatted with the elderly couple, who were overjoyed that Orlando was taking over.
‘Hi, Star.’
‘Hi,’ I said, as I saw Mouse standing beside me. And then I felt a pair of thin arms clasp my waist from behind.
‘Hello, Rory,’ I said, a genuine smile rising to my lips.
‘Where have you been?’
‘In London, helping Orlando move all the books here.’
‘I’ve missed you.’
‘I’ve missed you too.’
‘Can we bake brownies tomorrow?’
‘Of course we can.’
‘Mouse tried to make some with me, but they were rubbish. All sticky. Yuck!’ Rory made exaggerated sick noises.
‘They were, I agree.’ Mouse shrugged. ‘At least I tried.’
‘Star!’ I received a hug from Marguerite, who kissed me not once, not twice, but three times on my cheeks. ‘That is how they welcome you in Provence!’ she laughed.
I looked at Marguerite, with her wide violet eyes and long-limbed body, wondering at our genetic link. Outwardly, we were so different, although I noticed she did have a similar complexion to my own. But then, so did many people unrelated to me.
‘Mouse tells me you’ve had an interesting few days.’ She bent down to whisper in my ear. ‘Welcome to our crazy family,’ she chuckled. ‘No wonder we all took you to our hearts so quickly. You belong with us. It’s as simple as that.’
And that night, as I stood in Orlando’s new bookshop, surrounded by ‘family’, I tentatively felt as if I did.
I woke later than usual the next morning, probably due to the mental and physical strain of the past few days. I walked downstairs to the deserted kitchen, which had swiftly returned to its habitual chaotic state in my absence, and found a note on the table:
We’re all out helping Orlando at the bookshop. Mouse over at eleven to collect you, so be ready. M and R. x
Seeing it was gone half past nine, I went up to take a hasty bath in the freezing water, wondering if I could build a life here in Kent. I dried myself as fast as I could, shaking my hair and scrunching it with my fingers, then pulled on jeans and my blue jumper.
The one that Mouse had said suited me . . .
Not that it mattered, of course.
Then why are you trying to please him?
I hushed my psyche back into submission, and by the time I heard a car pull up and familiar heavy footsteps at the kitchen door, I was standing by the range with a fresh tray of brownies.
‘Hi, Star,’ said Mouse as he walked through the door.