Page 1 of Winter Nights at the Bay Bookshop

LILY

So many people I knew claimed to hate Mondays but I loved them.

There was something so exciting about starting a fresh week full of possibilities.

Of course, it helped that I loved my job as joint owner of Bay Books on Castle Street in the popular North Yorkshire seaside town of Whitsborough Bay.

I knew how lucky I was spending my days surrounded by books – my absolute number one passion – while working in partnership with my amazing dad, whose parents had established the bookshop.

But today my usual start-of-a-fresh-week positivity evaded me.

I was awake half an hour before my alarm, feeling sad and listless.

Sighing heavily, I reached for the well-thumbed copy of my favourite childhood book – L.

M. Montgomery’s Anne of Green Gables – which I kept by my bed, but even the wit and wisdom of Anne Shirley failed to lift me.

I shuffled through to the kitchen to put the kettle on, hoping a strong coffee would jumpstart some positive vibes.

Cassie – my best friend since senior school who worked part-time at Bay Books – had given me a set of four mugs with Anne of Green Gables quotes on them one Christmas.

I looked at the one which seemed appropriate for today:

If you can’t be cheerful, be as cheerful as you can.

I’d smile at our customers and exude positivity as we discussed books and they’d never know what I was masking.

Ready for work a little later, I cupped my hands around my mug and stared at the calendar hanging on the wall, tears pricking my eyes.

I’d done my best with the Tipp-Ex to obliterate the large red marker pen heart drawn around today’s date but I could still see the shape of it, still feel the heartbreak.

Hearing the beep of Dad’s car unlocking outside, I took one last gulp of coffee and left my mug in the sink to wash later.

I lived in a cosy one-bedroom annexe next to my parents’ house, Everdene.

It wasn’t where I’d expected to be at the age of thirty-four, but sometimes life didn’t go to plan.

Six years ago, I’d bought a three-bedroom semi near Hearnshaw Park with the first of my two long-term boyfriends, Ewan.

We’d only been able to afford it because it was a wreck and had spent eighteen months gutting it and starting over.

It was hard, exhausting, dirty work but worth it to create the beautiful home for the family we both wanted.

Except we never quite got to that part. We never even made it as far as moving in together.

When the relationship ended, Mum and Dad offered to help me buy Ewan out but living without him in the home we’d painstakingly refurbished together held no appeal.

House sold, I remained in my childhood bedroom at Everdene, but I found it a struggle.

Even though I had a fantastic relationship with my parents, I’d been ready for my independence.

When they suggested I move into the unused annexe, it seemed like the perfect solution.

Decorating the annexe – which I affectionately named Green Gables – and making it feel homely was a welcome distraction from my broken heart, but it was only meant to be a temporary solution.

Temporary had stretched into years but I’d had a new plan to move out in the New Year.

A plan that fell through exactly six months ago.

I glanced at the calendar again and shook my head, blinking back the tears. ‘Cheers for that, Wes. Heartbreaker.’

Outside, Dad was placing his packed lunch and coat on the back seat of his car which prompted me to grab my coat before I locked up.

We were just over a week from the end of September but the arrival of autumn had seen the temperature drop so layers were needed for getting some fresh air at lunchtime.

‘Morning, Lily!’ Dad said as I joined him.

‘Morning,’ I replied with a brightness I didn’t feel. I wondered if he’d register the date. He was usually good with things like that.

We set off into town and I gazed out of the window at the grey sky peppered with dark rainclouds, reflecting my mood.

‘Are you all right?’ Dad shot me a concerned glance as we stopped at some traffic lights on red.

I shrugged. ‘Feeling a bit meh this morning.’

‘Your mum and I thought you might be. Wes was due back today, wasn’t he?’

The lights changed to green, taking Dad’s attention back to the road, so he missed the tears pooling in my eyes.

I attempted to discreetly wipe them away as I didn’t want my parents worrying about me and I certainly didn’t want to cry over Wesley Sawyer again.

I’d wasted far too many tears on him over the past six months, although it was perhaps inevitable that another wave of sadness would hit me today.

After putting my life on hold for two years while my second long-term boyfriend furthered his career in Dubai, today should have been the day Wes returned for good, meaning we could start searching for a home together and get engaged, as we’d discussed so often.

Except he wasn’t my boyfriend anymore, he wasn’t coming back to the UK for another four years – if at all – and I was still living in my parents’ annexe with my hopes and dreams dashed for the second time by a man who’d promised me the world but had chosen to conquer it on his own instead.

‘I was determined not to fixate on it, but now that it’s here…’

‘Completely understandable,’ Dad said when I tailed off.

We usually chatted all the way to the shop but I didn’t feel like a conversation this morning and loved how Dad recognised that and just let me be for the rest of the journey.

We pulled into the private parking space out the back of Bay Books at ten to eight.

The shop didn’t open until nine but we always arrived at least an hour ahead of opening time to deal with any orders and queries which had come in overnight.

‘Any regrets about ending it with Wes?’ Dad asked as he pulled on the handbrake.

‘No. It was the right thing for both of us. I’d never have moved to Dubai and, if he’d come back here, he’d never have settled and I’d have been permanently on edge, wondering when he’d leave.

I’m just a bit fed up about how many years I’ve wasted, first with Ewan and then with Wes when I could have… ’

I broke off, shrugging. I’d been about to say been with someone who loved me but I wasn’t sure that had actually been the issue for either of them. I think they had loved me – just not enough to choose me when push came to shove.

Dad twisted in his seat to face me. ‘I liked Wes. I liked Ewan too. But I didn’t think either of them were your Gilbert Blythe.’

Despite my melancholy, that drew a smile. Gilbert Blythe was Anne Shirley’s perfect match (and also my ideal book boyfriend) although the pair of them didn’t actually get together until the third book in the series – Anne of the Island .

Dad kept his eyes fixed on mine. ‘And, deep down, I don’t think you did either. But you’ll find him eventually, probably when you least expect to and, of course?—’

‘ The unexpected things in life are often the best ,’ I said at the same time as him, laughing together that we’d both thought of Mum’s favourite saying.

‘I hope so, Dad.’

‘I know so. It’s how it happens in our family.’ He gave my hand a gentle squeeze, and I knew he was referring to how he and Mum got together. ‘Ready to face the day?’

‘I am now. Thank you.’

Dad unlocked the back door and deactivated the alarm while I flicked on the lights.

My spirits couldn’t help but lift as the children’s section lit up, revealing the colourful spines on the paperbacks, beautiful illustrations on the picture books and adorable bookish soft toys.

I loved this shop so much and experienced such a sense of belonging every time I walked through the doors and breathed in the smell of books.

This was my world and had been for as long as I could remember.

It was hard to believe that Wes could have thought for even a minute that I’d be willing to walk away from it to move to Dubai with him.

I realised that, in isolation, that made me seem selfish but the reality of our relationship was that he’d known that I never wanted to leave Whitsborough Bay and he’d been fine with that because he’d felt exactly the same way. At first.

A wide archway took me through to the front of the shop where we kept the commercial fiction titles and showcased new releases and bestsellers on sturdy wooden tables and display stands.

It was also home to a range of beautiful stationery products and book-related merchandise.

We kept the classics and poetry on level one and the non-fiction titles on the upper levels.

Customers often likened the shop to Doctor Who’s TARDIS as it didn’t look very big from the outside but step inside and it went back a long way as well as up all of those levels, giving us the space to stock a fabulous range of titles and making us the leading book retailer in town.

I dumped my handbag on the counter and switched on the computer which connected the till, ordering and stock control system.

‘Would a treat from The Chocolate Pot take the edge off?’ Dad asked.

‘I think it might. A hot chocolate and maybe one of Tara’s brownies for elevenses.’