Page 63 of Winter Nights at the Bay Bookshop

LILY

One year later

Last Christmas Eve, I’d celebrated Jólabókaflóe for the first time ever in Whitsborough Bay and this year I was celebrating it in its birthplace.

Gazing at the piles of books and discarded wrapping paper in Ragnar and Freyja’s lounge and watching Lars hug his dad as they thanked each other for their carefully chosen books, my heart felt as though it might burst with happiness.

What an incredible year we’d had. Lars’s mum, Jayne, had flown back to the UK in early January as planned.

She’d originally intended on staying for a week but had extended that to a full month.

Aileen, Jayne and Lars had spent a lot of time together getting everything out on the table.

Lars had found the early discussions incredibly difficult and upsetting but it had been necessary for them to move forward.

As suspected, Jayne had indeed fled from her grief and pain and had kept running, feeling like she’d burned her bridges at home as well as being afraid of her emotional state of mind if she slowed down.

The whole experience had been cathartic for them all and now, even though Jayne was still travelling the world with her photography, she stayed in regular contact and spent quality time in Whitsborough Bay between assignments.

Dad returned to the bookshop at the start of the February half-term holidays but only on a part-time basis.

It could take his knees up to two years to fully recover so he didn’t want to push himself too hard too soon, and he also wanted more time to focus on his studies.

It was great news for Lars as it meant he could work the days Dad wasn’t in and balance that with upping his volunteering hours at Hutton Wicklow Library.

Having tackled the past and found peace with his mum, Lars was keen to do the same with his dad.

Even though my dad had only just returned to work in February, the half-term break was a logical time for Lars to visit Iceland due to Flo and Cyndi being off college and available for extra shifts.

I’d been dying to visit Iceland myself but it was more important that Lars had some alone time with his dad first.

Lars had expected the conversations with his dad to be more challenging than those with his mum but they’d actually been easier.

Ragnar had turned sixty-five towards the end of last year and had retired from his job as a fisherman.

He wanted to make the most of the years – hopefully decades – he had left and that included making peace with his son.

He’d admitted to being consumed by guilt for abandoning his responsibilities when Pia died.

He felt like a failure and seeing Lars acted as a reminder of his bad decisions and what he’d lost. Unable to find a way to deal with his emotions, especially when Lars was young and angry, he lashed out in return.

While Ragnar was still prone to the occasional melancholy mood and most of the video calls Lars had were with Freyja and his half-siblings, father and son had thankfully buried the hatchet and I was so relieved for Lars that he finally had both parents back in his life and a meaningful relationship with them.

Lars promised me a birthday to remember.

It fell on a Sunday so he arranged cover in the shop so he could take me to Húsavík for a long weekend.

His family were so welcoming and on the Saturday evening we all travelled to Mount Kaldbakur – an extinct volcano seventy-five minutes’ drive west of Húsavík – where I saw the northern lights for the first time ever.

Lars had been right about photographs being amazing but how nothing beat seeing it in real life.

That aurora was mainly green with flashes of blue and I’d been completely mesmerised and quite tearful at the beauty of it.

The Anne of Green Gables quote I had on my bookshelves sprang to mind – Dear old world, you are very lovely and I am glad to be alive in you – and I turned to share it with Lars but he was down on one knee in the snow holding out a ring which sparkled under the lights of the aurora borealis.

It was the easiest yes of my life and the best birthday gift ever.

Freyja took a sequence of photos showing our silhouetted proposal and we had three of them in a frame on the wall at home beside the photo of Lars and Pia seeing the northern lights when they were little.

Home was The Lodge, although we’d officially renamed it White Gables as a nod to my favourite book and Pia’s.

One of Lars’s Christmas gifts to me last year had been a stack of canvases and sample pots to create my mood boards for the house design and, across the year, it had steadily transformed from being a stark, echoey house to a colourful, welcoming home.

I’d officially moved in once we were engaged although I’d spent little time at Green Gables after our first Christmas together.

Hendrix and Daisy had set a date for their wedding in two years’ time.

Lars and I didn’t want a long engagement so we got married in late September – the autumn wedding I’d dreamed of.

I wore that stunning midnight-blue dress with the gold embellishments I’d spotted in the window of The Wedding Emporium and everything from the cake to the place settings to the favours was book-themed.

Books had, after all, been what brought us together at the start and reunited us years later.

We’d had major changes at Bay Books too.

Hitting our forty-year anniversary at the start of the summer was a huge milestone to be celebrated and we ran a big programme of events including the town’s first-ever book festival.

Lars had been instrumental in organising the incredibly successful festival which we now planned to host annually.

At the end of the summer, Mum and Dad took Granny Blue, Granddad George, Lars and me – the three generations who’d run the bookshop – out for a celebratory meal and Dad made an unexpected announcement.

‘I’ve loved every moment I’ve spent at Bay Books,’ he said, looking round the table.

‘It’s the place I met my beautiful wife and our wonderful daughter and it has been a privilege to work there with every single member of my family – including our newest member, Lars.

But I’ve also loved every moment of studying for my Master’s and I don’t want to stop learning so I’m not going to. Next up is a PhD.’

We’d all congratulated him on his decision, but there was more to come.

‘I appreciate that working – even part-time hours – and studying a PhD is a huge commitment and I want to ensure I have time to spend with my wonderful new grandson so I’ve decided it’s time to step back from Bay Books.’

‘You’re retiring?’ I stared at Dad, my heart racing. He’d never mentioned the ‘r’ word before, although I shouldn’t be surprised. He and Mum had been besotted with Kadence and Cody’s baby, Harvey, since he arrived in May – we all were – and he’d frequently said he wished he could see more of him.

Under the table, Lars placed a reassuring hand on my thigh, making me feel calmer as Dad continued.

‘I know it’ll be a shock for you, Lily, because I’ve always joked that I’d never retire but it’s time.

The truth is, I haven’t run Bay Books for years.

You’ve been the one in charge and you and Lars have partnered perfectly from the start to achieve great things together.

Look at the anniversary celebrations, the festival and the amazing plans you have in place for the relaunch of Anna and the Snow Dragon . That’s all you.’

‘I know, but this is huge.’

‘It is, but it’s what I want. So there are some decisions to be made, although there’s no rush.

One idea is that I’m a silent partner and you run the business, Lily, just as you have done for years, with Lars as your assistant manager.

Another is that Lars buys me out and you run Bay Books jointly. ’

Beside me, Lars gasped. I reached for his hand and squeezed it as I smiled at him and nodded.

It was a no-brainer for us both. So Lars had finally found his new full-time career and we were officially the joint owners of Bay Books with big plans for the New Year.

The lease for The Hat Box next door – run by milliner Eleanor – had come up for renewal and she’d decided to move to a larger empty premises on the other side of Castle Street, joining forces with a friend who made and repaired garments.

The landlord had agreed to sell us the building, giving us the space to install a lift and a much greater capacity for hosting author events.

There were exciting times ahead for our bookshop in the bay.

For now, on our second Christmas Eve together, we had more exciting times coming with another excursion to see the northern lights.

There were clear skies in the area and Lars’s app showed high solar activity.

We’d chosen a different location – Ljósavatn Lake, six miles south of Húsavík – and it would just be the two of us this time, which was ideal as I had a special Jólabókaflóe gift which I wanted to give Lars without everyone watching.

The lights were even more spectacular than the last time we’d seen them.

The increased solar activity meant a broader range of colours and, while there were still the greens and blues like before, there were also shimmers of red, pink and purple.

The added visual of the aurora’s reflection on the calm lake blew me away.

Lars wrapped his arms round my waist – not easy with all the layers I was wearing – and we snuggled into each other as we watched.

I couldn’t imagine anything on earth more beautiful than the scene above and before me and I could have stayed there for hours but tiredness was creeping in, as it had done for the past month or so.

‘I’ve got you a special Jólabókaflóe book,’ I said, temporarily removing my thick gloves so I could unzip my jacket and retrieve the gift from the inside pocket.

‘It’s a very thin book,’ Lars observed, his expression puzzled as I handed him the gift-wrapped item.

‘It’s not actually the book itself. That’s waiting for us at home. It would have been too big and heavy to lug out here so I printed off the cover and another photo.’

Lars removed his gloves so he could peel back the tape and I smiled at the sharp intake of breath as he looked at the cover then at me, his eyes sparkling.

‘Does this mean…?’

‘Turn the page.’

He did that and, next moment, I was in his arms. The photo of a positive pregnancy test behind the cover of Your Panic-Free Pregnancy answered his question.

It hadn’t been easy keeping the news to myself for the past week or sneaking a copy of the tome out of the shop without anyone noticing, but I’d somehow managed because it felt right to share the news beneath the aurora borealis so that Pia could hear it too.

‘I’ll book a doctor’s appointment when we get home but my guess is that Baby Jóhannsson will be due around mid-to-late August.’

Lars placed his hand on my stomach and I thrust it forward as though a baby had just kicked, making him laugh. He crouched down with his hands on my waist.

‘Hello, little one, I’m your pabbi or maybe it’s daddy. I’ll have a think. Anyway, I can’t wait to meet you and I bet you’ll be Little Miss Perfect-for-me , just like your mummy.’

‘What if it’s a boy?’ I asked.

Lars looked up at me. ‘Mr Perfect, then, but I have the strongest feeling it’s going to be a girl.’

‘Weirdly, so do I.’

He addressed my stomach once more. ‘Whether you’re a girl or a boy, I promise to love you always and to protect you from Gryla and the Christmas Cat.’ And he saluted before standing up.

‘That’s our thing now, isn’t it?’ I said, laughing.

‘Afraid so, but so’s this.’ And he took me in his arms and kissed me tenderly as the northern lights rippled above us and Pia looked down on us with a smile.

The postcard which the Paperback Pixie left with each book stated, I hope this book brings you happiness, escapism, adventures to new places and a chance to meet new friends.

If one book could do that, imagine what a shop full of them could do!

Our bookshop in the bay had delivered all of that for me through the pages of books and through the people who were passionate about them and I couldn’t wait to meet my own little bookworm and show him or her how powerful books could be.