Chapter 9

The One Where They Meet in a Bookshop

EXT: THE DUSTY BOOKSHELF—WEDNESDAY, DECEMBER 12, 7:30 P.M.

EVIE stands in front of a bookshop. The window frames are painted midnight blue. A wooden sign hangs above the door in matching blue with silver lettering, declaring it THE DUSTY BOOKSHELF. There are Christmas lights in the window display, flashing languidly on and off, illuminating the books. EVIE’s nose is bright pink. Her braided hair pokes out from beneath her thick green woolen hat as she peers into the shop.

It is a truth universally acknowledged that the moment the words “What’s the worst that can happen?” are uttered, a dozen possibilities pop into existence. Yet, as I stood outside the Dusty Bookshelf, on a side street in Peckham, those were the words I repeated to myself.

I’d gotten the time and details from Jane, who hadn’t known what this month’s book was but promised the group would be an absolute hotbed of romance! When I’d asked her what kind of books they read she’d told me, “Fantasy, mostly. You know, werewolves and whatnot.” I hoped that meant horror and sci-fi too, because I was at least familiar with those as film genres.

As I stood in front of the window of the warmly lit shop, my stomach tipped like a funfair ride heading over a drop. Assistant drinks aside, it had been a while since I’d done anything social without Ricky by my side. How did I end up with an introvert? He’d smile, vowing to stick by me all night.

I steeled myself. I had to do this. It had been over three weeks, and the only thing I’d managed to get out of NOB was requests for more meet-cutes. My only consolation was that he was insisting I was helping him to write. I just wished I could believe him.

I pushed the door open.

Inside, a woman sat reading behind a till at a desk that groaned beneath a pile of books. The place was beautiful. Wooden shelves were crammed with books old and new, fairy lights had been wound around the rafters, and the furniture was mismatched, with lamps in every conceivable nook and cranny.

“Hi,” I said hesitantly.

The woman took a second to finish her page before looking up at me. “We’re closed,” she said.

“I’m here for the book group.” The woman leaned back in her chair and took off her glasses to appraise me.

“Well,” she said after a pause, “it takes all sorts. Follow me.”

Flustered, I trailed behind her, trying to keep track of her bobbing bun as we zigzagged between shelves until we must have been at the very back of the shop. The shelves gave way to a small, book-lined space filled with people, a variety of chairs, and an old stained table bearing wine. Oh, thank God.

“One of yours,” the woman announced, and then left me there.