The Bookshop on the Shore by Jenny Colgan

Author:Jenny Colgan [Colgan, Jenny]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: William Morrow Paperbacks
Published: 2019-06-25T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirty-three

Zoe did it. She ordered as many books on Loch Ness as she could find in the catalogue and started taking them to the visitor centre. She didn’t even always take the van back to Lennox’s, partly because it was further away and partly because she didn’t want him to ask any suspicious questions about why she had a new windscreen. And partly the chicken.

Also, by the hotel was a small, slightly dilapidated children’s playground, and while the autumn weather remained crisp and fine, she could take Hari along and pretend it was okay for him to be skipping nursery, and soon it just made sense to take Patrick along as well, and the two of them kicked leaves and climbed the climbing frame and absolutely loved the fact that the choice was either ham or cheese or ham and cheese sandwiches.

Murdo would bring his boat over from time to time and Agnieszka would come out and chat, and it was so pleasant to have adult company for a change – particularly adult company that wasn’t constantly keeping secrets or looking annoyed – that Zoe could sit down on the benches overlooking the loch in between coach visits, and hear the children crunching in the leaves, and watch the sun sparkle off the water, and drink a cup of tea – she’d persuaded Agnieszka it might be a good idea to buy some paper cups and start serving it, and sure enough it had been a clear hit right away – and she’d take a breath, and look at the cash box and feel, just for a moment, rather pleased with herself.

* * *

The following Sunday, Zoe took Hari with her to the hospital for a visit. Nina was looking tired, but otherwise well, her bump vast and swelling over her loose-fitting pyjamas.

‘How’s it going?’ said Zoe.

‘Thanks for these,’ said Nina, indicating the line of about four hundred Agatha Christie books Zoe had fed her in a tearing frenzy the previous week.

‘I’m cutting you off,’ said Zoe. ‘Otherwise you’re going to start accusing randoms of murder.’

‘It’s always the people you least suspect,’ said Nina. ‘Did you find out what happened to Ramsay’s wife by the way? According to Agatha Christie, she is definitely dead, and it will definitely be somebody unlikely.’

Zoe shrugged.

‘Okay,’ she said. ‘The gardener.’

‘Oh no, it’s always the gardener,’ said Nina.

Zoe unloaded another pile. ‘Okay. Start on Rebus. The murders are a great deal grittier.’

‘I’m not sure if that’s better or worse.’

Nina sighed and shifted slightly uncomfortably.

‘Okay, let’s have a look at the accounts then.’

She didn’t have high hopes of the accounts at all, had been dreading it in fact, telling herself as long as it covered the petrol, the stock and the wage, it was all she could hope to keep the show on the road.

So she was to find herself pleasantly surprised – pleasantly surprised and undeniably slightly jealous.

Nina was proud of her ability to find the right book for the right person; to know

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