The Bermondsey Bookshop by Mary Gibson

Author:Mary Gibson [Gibson, Mary]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781788542630
Publisher: Head of Zeus
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

13

Mudlark

She wanted to tell everyone. But most of all she wanted to tell Aunt Sarah, the one person about whom her father had expressed interest. At his office, when Kate had mentioned his eldest sister, his face had clouded with sadness.

‘I would have liked to stay friends with Sarah,’ he’d admitted. ‘She did a lot for me when I was a boy. I was only twelve when your grandmother died and Sarah brought me up. But it turned out her and Sylvie are cut from the same cloth when it comes to money. As soon as I started making a success of myself it was all about what they could get out of me.’

‘But they’re not really the same, Aunt Sarah hates Aunt Sylvie!’

‘That’s just jealousy – Sarah thought I was giving Sylvie more. My family!’ He’d shaken his head sadly.

She’d wanted to stick up for her Aunt Sarah, to say that the woman had idolized him, but how could she know anything for certain about either of her aunts when Sylvie had lied to her for years, deliberately scuppering all her childhood hopes and dreams?

‘Perhaps Aunt Sarah’s changed. She’s getting old and she’s all on her own. I think she’d just like a visit from you…’

He hadn’t answered; instead, before she left, he’d asked her not to mention their reunion to either aunt. ‘Leave all that to me,’ he’d said. ‘They’ll find out soon enough.’ But he hadn’t forbidden her to tell anyone else.

*

The bookshop closed for three months in the summer. Ethel and her husband went on holiday to France, and the volunteers, many of whom were students, went back to their family homes. The orange shutters went up and the lectures and meetings ceased. Kate was surprised to find she missed Ethel and the women volunteers, for in spite of all her misgivings, she’d come to regard them as friends. But the more pressing loss was that of a good portion of her income, which was why she’d welcomed Martin’s proposal of a new painting.

He’d finished his preliminary sketches and on a Saturday afternoon shortly after her meeting with Archie Goss, she went to Martin’s studio. Now he was arranging her into just the right pose in front of the tall windows – which were a torment on this hot afternoon. Even though Martin had opened the windows, not a breath of air penetrated the room. She was hot and impatient.

‘Why does it take so bloody long to set me up? You’ve got the sketches, can’t you just do it from those?’

‘What I’d really like to do is take you down to the Thames, tie you to a post and leave you there till the tide comes in!’ he replied testily, bending her body forward a little and tilting her head. She was meant to be looking for treasure in the Thames’, mud and he wanted her to hold something between her fingers, then look up at him, as if she’d just found it.

‘Perfect! Stay like that,

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