Jane Green - Bookends

‘Actually, I think you’re wrong,’ I say with certainty, slightly pissed off at Si for pointing out the obvious, but pleased that it is firing my determination. ‘I mean, I’m sure Lucy wouldn’t have asked me if she didn’t think I could contribute something, and there’s no way Josh would let either of us do it if he didn’t think it was a viable proposition.

‘Plus it’s always been my dream, and I know the two of us could do it.’

‘Cath,’ Si says, suddenly serious. ‘Do you want my honest opinion?’

I nod.

‘My honest opinion, and remember I’m only giving you this because I love you and I want you to be careful, but my honest opinion is that you should definitely become involved on some level, but certainly not throw in your job or do anything drastic until it’s established in the new site and it’s successful.’

I know he’s right. Of course he’s right, but even as I hear his words I feel them float in one ear and out the other.

‘Stop it, Cath,’ Si says sternly, knowing exactly what I’m doing. ‘You know that it makes sense. Lucy doesn’t really have anything to lose, and if it went horribly wrong, then Josh could always pick up the pieces, but you would be the one with the most at stake here, and you stand to lose the most.

‘I’m not saying don’t do it, I’m saying think about it. Hell, get Lucy to do it by herself, work in the shop on weekends, organize reading groups, events, anything you want. Just don’t give everything up yet, that’s all.’

I know what he’s saying makes sense. But I also know that there’s no way on earth I will let Lucy fulfil my lifelong dream without me in it. I just won’t tell Si. That’s all.

‘And by the way,’ he adds with a twinkle, secure in the knowledge that I’ve listened to him and taken his advice, ‘if I gave Lucy my application form for a Saturday job, would you make sure I got it?’

‘Only if you pay me enough.’ I squeeze a smile, and we sit in silence for a few moments, then Si looks at me and lets out a big sigh.

‘I know you too bloody well.’ He shakes his head.

‘What?’

‘You’re sitting there thinking: screw Si, I’m going to do it anyway.’

I know I’m not supposed to be smiling at this, but I can’t help it: a grin flashes up.

‘Cath, I’m just saying that I don’t want you to lose everything.’

I reach out and cover Si’s hand with my own. ‘Listen, my darling,’ I say. ‘I know you’ve got my best interests at heart, but I really do think I need to take a risk and I need to do this. At the very least I need to explore every option.

‘And as for the money,’ I continue, ‘Josh was absolutely right. It has been sitting in the bank doing nothing, so even if it all went horribly wrong and I lost everything, I wouldn’t actually be losing anything, if you see what I mean. And Si, I hate my job. I can’t carry on doing it for much longer.’ I pause for breath but before I have a chance to continue Si pulls the twizzler out of his rather revolting-looking daiquiri and sucks it slowly.

‘So let me ask you this,’ he says finally.

‘Yes?’

‘You basically want to be Ellen, don’t you?’

‘What?’

‘That’s what you’ve been describing all night. Ellen’s bookshop. Buy the Book .’

‘Oh my God!’ My mouth drops open. ‘Si, you’re brilliant! That’s exactly what I want it to be like. If I did it,’ I add quickly, in a mumble. ‘Which I probably won’t.’

‘I know, I know.’ Si waves me quiet impatiently. ‘So you’re Ellen. Lucy is Audrey, except she’s not dippy, she doesn’t have red hair, and she dresses better. Portia, if she were here, would be Paige. Josh, I suppose, being handsome and decidedly heterosexual, despite being taken, would be Adam. Or Spence. Depending on whether you’re a fan of the early years or not.’

‘Uh oh.’

I start to laugh, knowing Si so well, knowing what’s coming.

‘So that means that I’m the bloody fat bloke with the coffee, aren’t I?’

‘Absolutely not,’ I wipe the smile off my face in a flash. ‘So shall we make a move, Joe ?’

I cannot believe how quickly this all seems to be happening. Six weeks ago there I was, stuck in my job, dreading the tube, wondering if there would ever be an end to all of this, and praying for summer to arrive early just to make me feel better.

The next minute I’m caught up in Lucy’s whirlwind of interior design, recipe ideas, hurried phone calls to the estate agent to make sure it’s still ours. And God, am I glad I didn’t take Si’s advice. I cannot think of anything worse than watching Lucy do this without me, because I have loved, am loving, every minute of it.

The scariest bit was actually handing in my notice at the agency. They offered me more money to stay, but my mind was well and truly made up. Then, at my leaving do, my boss made a speech where he confessed that he’d always had a dream of moving to the country and buying a farm, and said he was deeply jealous that I was pursuing my own dream, when he didn’t have the nerve.

But once I’d actually left, panic set in. That first Monday morning, when I didn’t have to get up at the crack of dawn and catch the tube to work, I suddenly realized what I’d done: what a big step it was. What on earth would I do if it all went horribly wrong?

But then, later that day, Lucy dragged me to a meeting with the carpenter in the shop, and once we’d spent half an hour talking about bars and counters and display shelves, it started to feel real again and, more importantly, started to feel right.

And then the meetings started. We were hoping we wouldn’t have to do a business plan, Lucy and I managing to raise £120,000 between us, but we hadn’t banked on working capital: paying employees; paying the bills; managing the inventory; petty cash and all the other minor day-to-day expenses that you never think about when it’s still just a fantasy.

So Josh said we had to go to the bank. We set aside the best part of a week and sat at Lucy’s kitchen table, heads together, drawing up a business plan, and every night, when Josh got home, we’d run it by him, moaning and groaning because he kept telling us we had to make it more businesslike.

But eventually we got it right. We took it to the bank, and they agreed to lend us a further £100,000, which was far more than we’d even dreamt. And Josh and Lucy remortgaged their house, which meant we could buy the shop in the first place.

We then had to deal with the Health and Safety inspectors. We didn’t need planning permission, as we weren’t actually going to be cooking on the premises, and preparing food falls into something called an Al Use Class, which was a good thing for us, because it didn’t constitute a change of use.

Lucy and I travelled up to Derbyshire and spent the day with Ted and Linda, the people Josh had told us about who own a bookshop, and their advice was invaluable.

And eventually contracts were exchanged, with the completion date amazingly set for the same day, and we could actually start work. It was touch and go for a while, us getting the shop, but James managed to swing it our way, despite the competition that suddenly appeared at the eleventh hour.

James has actually been fantastic, and the more I know him, the more I like him. I know I shouldn’t be that surprised, but he really does seem to be honest, straight, to have integrity. Lucy’s also pointed out that he’s rather dishy, but to be perfectly honest he’s not my type. If I have a type any more, that is.

Plus, he’s a child. Well, not literally, but he’s got to be younger than us. I’d hazard a guess at around twenty-six, but Lucy thinks he’s more like twenty-eight, an age, she says, at which they are unstoppable. Whatever that means.