Page 17 of Winter Nights at the Bay Bookshop

LILY

‘What did you think?’ Dad asked when I returned to the children’s section after letting Lars out.

‘Better than expected. I’ll admit that the grown-up Lars is a lot more palatable than the schoolboy one.’

‘But…?’

I sank down into the tub chair Lars had vacated. ‘But I’m still not sure.’

‘What’s holding you back? Is it just about how he was at school or was there something from the interview that concerned you?’

‘The interview was great. What he did with his business is seriously impressive and there’s no doubting his passion for books. He ticks all the boxes for what we want and a million more so it’s not him… or it’s not the present-day him.’

‘You can’t shake off how he was at school.’

‘I’m sorry, Dad. I want to, I really do. I know it’s me and my issue and that’s not fair when he’s such a strong candidate.’

‘Don’t feel guilty,’ Dad said, shaking his head. ‘If you don’t feel comfortable around him, then it’s a no.’

I did feel guilty, though, and felt the need to justify my thinking.

‘It’s just that a good team is so important here.

The staff we have must be good with customers and I don’t doubt that Lars would be, but they have to fit into the team too and Lars would be starting off on the back foot.

Most of the team started out as strangers with a clean slate and a positive impression but Lars doesn’t have that.

I had to keep reminding myself to smile and be professional when all I wanted to do was tell him off for being a tosser at school. ’

Dad laughed. ‘Tell me how you really feel about him.’

I took a glug from my bottle. ‘I’m not saying it’s a categoric no. You know I always need to reflect on big decisions overnight so I’ll do that with Lars but, at this precise moment in time, my gut is telling me that we’d be better off with Melissa Gilchrist.’

Melissa had applied early on so we’d interviewed her at the back end of last week.

A woman in her mid-fifties, she’d recently been made redundant.

She wasn’t a voracious reader like we’d have hoped, but she’d told us she enjoyed reading.

She hadn’t demonstrated any sort of snobbery towards particular genres – something that was very important to us.

What she’d lacked in book knowledge she made up for in retail experience and, as she’d never be on her own in the shop, there’d always be somebody around who could fill her knowledge gaps if customers needed advice.

‘Lars is my frontrunner by a clear mile,’ Dad said, ‘but Melissa would be my second choice. Mind you, our next candidate looks good on paper.’

I picked up my clipboard and scanned down the CV from a Philippa Rose who was currently a hotel receptionist, had retail experience before that, was a big reader and an aspiring writer.

And a no-show.

We waited for twenty minutes – more than enough time for her if she was running late – before calling it a day.

‘I guess it’s between Melissa and Lars then,’ Dad said, folding up the chairs while I gathered the bottles together.

‘Looks like it. I’ll give them both some serious thought tonight.’

‘You know I’ll support whatever you decide,’ Dad said. ‘It’s you who has to work with them, after all.’

‘I know, but we’re partners so your opinion counts just as much as mine.’

* * *

Lying on my stomach on my bed in Green Gables later that evening, I stared at Melissa’s and Lars’s CVs and interview notes side by side in front of me.

There was no pressure to make a decision tonight or even tomorrow, but we did want the chosen candidate to start on Monday and it was only fair to give them as much notice as possible.

With a sigh, I picked up Melissa’s paperwork and flicked through it. I did the same to Lars’s and shook my head. There was only one way to do this. Rolling off the bed, I retrieved a notepad and pen from my desk and started a pros and cons list for each candidate.

Twenty minutes later, I sat back and looked at what I’d written.

As anticipated, the pros for both were a long list with very few entries in the cons column.

The pros emphasised what I already knew – that they were both strong candidates – but I wasn’t sure how I felt about the cons.

On Melissa’s list, I’d written Does she really love books?

I scanned down my notes again and it was actually the ones I’d made during Lars’s interview which set off alarm bells about Melissa.

When we’d asked Lars about his interest in books, he’d immediately broken into a smile and had waxed lyrical about how important books were in Icelandic culture, visits to the library as a child, how much he loved volunteering at Hutton Wicklow Library now, his floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, and the books which had made a lasting impact on him.

I’d written down a mixture of the words he’d used and how he’d come across: passionate, animated, part of his culture, lost without books, loves learning/learns something from everything he reads.

On Melissa’s interview script, I’d written: mostly reads on holiday.

Holding my hands against my cheeks, I shook my head, a strong niggle in my gut that perhaps Melissa wasn’t the right person for the job.

Every single member of staff we had lived and breathed books – it was their passion for books that had led them to apply for a job with us in the first place.

Recommendations to customers were an important part of what we did and was undoubtedly one of the reasons the business hadn’t just survived but thrived for nearly forty years.

They didn’t need to read across all genres by any means, but they did need to understand the market trends and be able to demonstrate that awareness to customers.

Would Melissa be interested enough to do that?

I glanced at the biggest con on Lars’s list: School. Can I get over it? I closed my eyes tightly and scrunched my hands into my curls, releasing a frustrated, ‘Argh!’

If I rejected Lars because of how he’d behaved towards me half a lifetime ago, it seemed spectacularly unfair on him.

Melissa’s major con was about her but Lars’s was about me and the hurt I’d clearly been hanging onto.

But was it realistic to try to take me out of the equation?

As Dad said earlier, I’d be the one who had to work with him.

I had to be comfortable with that and the rest of the team would take my lead.

If they sensed any latent hostility towards Lars, it would influence how they felt about him and that wasn’t fair on anyone.

We prided ourselves on having created a wonderful place to work with staff who were passionate and loyal. I couldn’t risk jeopardising that.

With another heavy sigh, I checked the time on my phone.

I could do with speaking to Cassie. She knew Lars from school and had hated the way he’d treated me, but she’d also encouraged me to interview him, saying he’d likely have changed.

It was nearly half ten – time for bed and definitely far too late to ring Cassie – so I’d seek her counsel tomorrow.

Settling down under the duvet a little later, I switched off my bedside lamp and closed my eyes, trying to empty my head of pros and cons lists and focus on going to sleep. But it wasn’t the lists I couldn’t eject from my thoughts – it was Lars’s face.

I’d been nine when I first saw him in the shop, sitting cross-legged on the floor reading the blurb on the back of the latest book in the Harry Potter series – Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire .

He’d sported a blond buzz cut which, with his square jawline and high cheekbones, made him look all angular and spiky.

I’d just finished reading the same book and had hovered nearby, trying to decide whether he looked friendly or scary.

I watched as he opened up the book and turned to the first page ever so gently.

He smiled as he scanned down it and entered a world of witches and wizards and I knew at that moment that he loved books as much as me and that he was definitely going to be a friend rather than a foe.

Which he had been until that day behind the sports hall.

At the age of thirty-four, Lars had grown into his face as my Granny Blue would say.

His hair had darkened and was long at the top, stylishly swept back from his forehead, with waves at the back, softening his features and accentuating his grey eyes.

Those eyes. I’d noticed a sadness and vulnerability in them at school which I hadn’t noticed when we spoke about books in the shop.

I had no idea why he was sad but I’d thought that showing him some kindness might help him unburden it, which is why I’d tried on several occasions over the years to befriend him, only to have it thrown back in my face every time.

In bed, I turned onto my side, clutching my duvet to my chest, my heart pounding once more as a buried memory surfaced.

That first day at school, I’d wanted Lars’s friendship but as the school years progressed, it became more than that.

Even though he made it clear he wanted nothing to do with me, I felt drawn to him.

Fancied him. My very first crush. And my first broken heart.