The Bookshop of New Beginnings: Heart-warming, uplifting – a perfect feel good read!. Jen Mouat

could only see a sliver of Emily’s face but she glimpsed the glimmer of a grin. Emily turned. ‘Tea,’ she said with exaggerated patience. ‘I’d like tea. Obviously.’

      ‘Tea it is then. So we’ll stop?’

      ‘Actually.’ Emily’s sudden change in demeanour was like the sun emerging from behind cloud: welcome but bewildering. Kate felt she could barely keep up with this new mercurial Emily. ‘Actually, we have to stop by the shop. I forgot to measure up for shelves yesterday.’

      Noah leaned forward to eye his sister askance as he slowed at a junction. ‘Seriously? You were going to buy wood for shelves with no idea how much you need?’

      ‘Yesterday was kind of an eventful day,’ Emily said. There was sarcasm, but no malice now. ‘You know: long lost best friend turns up out of the blue and announces she’s here for the summer and you forget to measure the shelves. A common error, I’m sure.’

      Kate laughed aloud and the tension lifted. Emily’s words lingered. Here for the summer: a delightfully vague description of her future. The thought made her lurch between contentment and fear once more.

      Noah continued teasing Emily, as delighted in her change of humour as Kate, as he made the turn and accelerated again. ‘Have you found this wonderful YouTube tutorial that’s going to teach you how to build these shelves with no measurements?’

      ‘We’re not completely inept,’ Emily answered, with a mock-severe glare. ‘We’re both highly skilled individuals.’

      Noah smiled and slanted a look at her. ‘No,’ he agreed, ‘not completely inept.’

      Kate leaned back in her seat and let the words flow around her – the teasing camaraderie felt good, much better than Emily’s snappishness. She closed her eyes, let the sound of their voices entwine with the music, the throb of the engine and thrum of tarmac meld into a melee that dulled her thoughts.

      All these little faults, rips in the fabric of the place, doubts. And still, the overwhelming certainty that this was where she was supposed to be.

Chapter Seven

      Emily stayed in the bookshop to make measurements while Kate and Noah went to collect refreshments. She busied herself quickly, feeling ashamed for this morning’s altercation with Noah. Not that it was a rare occurrence, but she hadn’t meant to let the mask slip in front of Kate so soon, and Kate had obviously been perturbed.

      The sun was streaming through the shop and it looked fresher and brighter than it had twenty-four hours previously. Emily had to admit that if not for Kate there was no way she’d have mustered the energy to set about building shelves and buying paint today. Nor would she have accepted, or even considered asking for, Noah’s help.

      She wondered when things had become so strained between her and Noah. It wasn’t just her annoyance at him for what had happened at school. She used to be his advocate whenever Dan and their parents were on his back about what he was going to do with his life, but now she was as bad as the rest of them. It would do them good to work together today.

      She watched Kate and Noah set off up the street together, laughing easily. He had been morose and spiky since his ignominious exile here, but now he seemed more like his old self. Kate had achieved that in just a few hours. Emily was so very glad that Kate was here.

      Noah must be scared, she thought: of what he’d done and the uncertainty of his future. They weren’t so different, really. If only she had been more sympathetic. But Emily had become used to silence, to staying locked inside her head and her books, and she hardly remembered how to open up to people; only with Lena could she relax, because Lena didn’t look at her with constant pity and concern – probably because Lena didn’t remember what had happened to Emily most of the time.

      Emily had been sitting in a dank, empty bookshop for weeks, wondering when she would find the courage to start living again. With Kate’s arrival came the return of some spark.

      But still the fear was there, lying in wait. She felt the shadow of it looming over her, even now, in the brilliant sunshine of a day carefully planned out ahead of her – the sickening waves of anxiety that claimed her for no reason, with no warning. She didn’t want Kate to know just how bad it was, to see how badly damaged she was. She’d been keeping them hidden for months – her panic attacks. It was why she felt so dissociated from them all, constantly having to keep her terror secret.

      It was so stupid, when there was nothing to fear. No reason to feel like this. Emily berated herself once more for being so weak, so unable to get over him. She’d had no one to confide in since Kate. Was it too much to expect that Kate could fix everything?

      *

      In the café, once the waitress had fulfilled their order, Kate tried to get Noah talking. ‘Tell me how you are,’ she said fixing him with a hard stare that left him in no doubt what she was talking about.

      Noah gave her a guarded look as they stepped out into the street amongst a riot of flowers spilling from hanging baskets and window boxes. ‘Emily already told you, I guess.’

      ‘No. She hinted. I mean, yes, she told me about you getting …’ She paused, the word ‘expelled’ was weighty and unwieldy.

      Noah drew his lower lip between his teeth and sucked in a breath. ‘Yeah.’ He turned away from her and stared ahead, but she caught a glimpse of his frustration hidden behind the mask of teenage malaise and carelessness. He was the youngest of the Cottons, with all the weight of his parents and siblings on him; all that optimism and expectation. As an only child, and a lover of all things Cotton, Kate couldn’t really relate to his predicament – there was a time she wanted nothing more than to be part of this family; you had to take the rough with the smooth, that was what family was about. But she could sympathise and understand that the pressure of living up to what other people expected of you might get tiresome at times.

      ‘If you want to talk about it …’ she offered clumsily, handling things with less aplomb than she had envisaged – had she fancied that Noah would jump eagerly at the chance of a willing confidante? No, she was doing this for Emily. And, she supposed, for Noah, who needed to talk it out even if he didn’t realise it himself yet.

      They threaded their way slowly back up the street towards the shop. ‘Look,’ Kate said, ‘I’m not going to force the issue—’ Noah smiled ironically ‘—obviously I’m here to help Em but I’m here if you