Lucy's Book Club for the Lost and Found: A heartwarming feel good romance novel(10)

‘Yes, I’m fine, thanks. I wondered if you could give me a hand with something, though, I’m a bit short on time this morning.’

‘Yes, of course, what was it you wanted?’

‘A new book to read to Mum. I haven’t got time to look properly today, and I know you’ll be able to put your hand on the perfect thing in a heartbeat.’

‘No problem. Just let me pop these books in the storeroom. Won’t be a sec.’

She joined Lia in the fiction section moments later, undecided whether now was really the right time to broach the subject of the dance classes.

‘So, are we looking for something along the same lines as usual?’ she asked.

Lia looked around her. ‘Probably,’ she said. ‘Although the last few I read her, Mum tutted and groaned the whole time. Something a bit nostalgic or old-fashioned still appears to work best, though. She seems to make more connections with those over more modern writing.’

Lucy’s brain was racing ahead of her. ‘How much of the story does she understand? I mean, there’s a book I’m thinking of, but it’s actually a children’s book. Would that matter, or wouldn’t she really notice?’

‘I’ll give anything a go to be honest. I read Beatrix Potter once out of desperation and she seemed to quite enjoy it.’

‘Right, wait here,’ said Lucy, and hurried off. She plucked the book she was looking for off the shelf and stared at the cover. Perhaps…

Seconds later she delivered it into Lia’s waiting hands. ‘You might enjoy this too.’ She held her breath.

Lia grasped the book tightly, as one finger drew a line under the title. She seemed so lost in her thoughts that Lucy doubted if she had any conscious control over it.

She sighed. ‘Oh, I haven’t read this for such a long time.’

And Lucy could imagine her suddenly: the young child, caught in the magic of the story, transported into the world she longed to be a part of, but which she knew she could never reach.

‘This and Ballet Shoes, of course. I read them both over and over.’ She looked up at Lucy. ‘Do you know the stories?’

Lucy nodded. ‘They were favourites of mine too. My friends and I used to pretend we were the sisters – I was always Posy – dreaming of a life on the stage. I mean what little girl didn’t?’

Lia stared at the book in her hand. ‘I’m not sure it’s really a good idea…’ The familiar arguments against reading it were coming now; the adult reasoning that told her the pain of remembering was far greater than the pain of allowing herself to forget.

Looking at Lia’s face, Lucy could feel her own emotions threatening to get the better of her. She crossed to another aisle of shelves and withdrew a thick book. ‘Take this as well,’ she said, handing her a Maeve Binchy. ‘This is set in the fifties – an easy story if you think Dancing Shoes might be a bit much for her. I am going to insist you take that one anyway, though. I think you need to read it.’

Lia stared at her, her lip trembling slightly as she flushed. ‘Thank you,’ she said. She looked at her watch. ‘I ought to go…’ she added.

‘Would ten minutes hurt?’ asked Lucy. ‘I was just going to put the kettle on.’

She could see the indecision across Lia’s face. ‘No, I’d better not. We… we haven’t had a good weekend you see, and I’ve only popped out now because Mum fell asleep and a neighbour’s keeping an eye on her. She doesn’t normally nap for longer than half an hour, so…’

Lucy smiled brightly. ‘Good job you live in the town.’

‘Er, yes.’ Lia was looking a little distracted now.

‘Tell you what, pop over to Rachel at the counter to have your books issued. I need to quickly print something off for you before you go, so hang on just a tick.’

She ushered Lia to the counter and went through into the back office where she did all her paperwork. Her email was already open and it only took a moment to find the message she was looking for. She printed off the attached brochure and hurried back. Lia was waiting by the door.

‘I get these all the time,’ she said, handing the print-out to Lia, hoping she wouldn’t notice her little white lie. ‘It’s a list of classes offered by one of the local dance schools, and the new season starts next week… You could have a look and see what takes your fancy.’

‘Oh, but I don’t think I could—’

‘I don’t think you’d even have to pay,’ added Lucy, feeling sure that Lia must be in receipt of certain benefits as a carer. Before Lia could argue, Lucy took the pamphlet back, folded it in half and tucked it inside the copy of Dancing Shoes that her new friend was carrying. ‘I’m sure you could work something out.’

‘Thank you,’ Lia said. ‘It’s a nice thought. But I don’t have anyone to go with.’

Lucy watched as the automatic doors closed behind her, her own mind ticking like an unexploded bomb. Well let’s see about that, shall we, she thought to herself. Then she went back through to the office, called up the county’s book catalogue and ordered Lia every single one of Noel Streatfeild’s books that she could get her hands on.



* * *



Callum had hardly been able to believe it when the same girl he had seen the other day came and sat next to him. It was her perfume that he had noticed first – something old-fashioned, like roses, or violets possibly; Callum wasn’t sure. Either way, the pen and notebook were the same. He managed a few surreptitious glances while she was working and couldn’t help but notice what she was looking at: pages and pages to do with stuff about weddings. He sighed inwardly. He’d suspected it when he’d seen her ring, but the fact she was deep into planning confirmed that there was another bloke out there far luckier than him.