Xander called early the next morning as I was opening the shop. I didn’t want to answer in front of Dad and Colin, so I let it ring out and shut myself in the office half an hour later to call him back.
“Colin?” he said when I told him who had gone to the press about Ruby Bell. “The student who works for you?”
“Yeah, he…” I paused, wondering how much to tell Xander. “It was him I heard on the landing. He’d come up to talk to me about something else and he overheard. He was trying to get back at me by going to the papers though, not you. He’s a big fan of yours and is terrified you’re going to hit him.” Xander didn’t need to know that Colin had been disappointed in his writing hero.
“I try not to hit anything except punchbags these days,” Xander said. I could hear the smile in his voice and felt relieved. I had thought he’d be angry when he found out that Colin was his whistle-blower. “You can assure him I won’t hit him on Christmas Eve.”
My stomach flipped over at the thought of seeing him again. “How’s your quadrille practice going?”
“I think I’ve forgotten everything I’ve learned,” he said, but he probably hadn’t. “Will you dance with me anyway?”
“Well I’ll have to check my dance card.” I smiled. “But I should think I could fit you in.”
He didn’t say anything for a moment and I heard him take a breath. “I don’t just want to dance with you,” he said. “I want to talk. I want to say the things I should have said last week and I don’t want to say them in an email or over the phone.”
“I want to see you too,” I said.
“My brother tells me I’ve been a bloody fool over all this. He says I should have cancelled on my nephews and told the Observer I’d do the interview over the phone. He says I should have stayed with you.”
“Your brother is quite wise, isn’t he?”
“Don’t tell him I said this, what with him being younger and everything, but yes. He really is. I should have stayed and I’m sorry.”
“It’s OK, Xander,” I said. “We’ll see each other in a couple of days.”
“You know, the people I care about call me Alex.”
I felt something come undone inside me then and I didn’t know what to say.
“Dot doesn’t call you Alex,” I managed.
“She does sometimes.”
“But you don’t look like an Alex.”
He laughed. “Well, it’s up to you.” he said. “As long as I get to see you soon, you can call me whatever you want.”
It took me a few minutes to pull myself together after the call – talking to Xander (he really didn’t look like an Alex) had made me feel like a teenager again. We both knew there were no certainties, but we both wanted to try to make this work and that was the leap of faith I’d been looking for.
*
We shut at 5.30 p.m. on Christmas Eve, just as I’d promised Trixie we would. Mum complained quite a lot about it all afternoon and it took some persuading to get the last customers to pay for their purchases and leave, but we managed it, and by 5.32 p.m. Missy was in the office cashing up and Dad was helping me move the bookcases to clear the space for the card tables and dance floor.
“This was a great idea of yours,” Dad said. “I never saw myself as someone who dressed up and pretended they lived in the past, but now I’ve done it I can see the appeal.”
“When Trixie first got us into this last summer, to go the Jane Austen festival in Bath, I wasn’t sure about it either, but it’s actually a lot of fun. I just hope other people will think so.”
“Not everyone’s dressing up though, are they?” Dad asked.
“No, I put on the invitations that Regency dress was optional so I don’t expect many people will do. I’ll have to make sure Trixie doesn’t insult anyone who does and has the details wrong!”
“She’s quite a force of nature, that one!”
“I know and she totally takes over everything but, to be fair, I’d never have got any of this off the ground without her. She’s worked so hard to make this party happen. I’d never have been able to do it on my own.”
“Shame about your mother’s potato puddings,” Dad said. Mum had kept at it but the recipe hadn’t improved. The last batch had come out of the oven with a blackened crust. “None of us in this family are very good at cooking.”
“I wouldn’t hold on to much hope for any of the other Regency food either,” I said. “Everyone’s been having problems making it edible.”
“Great,” Dad said, without enthusiasm.
“Don’t worry, I’ve asked the tearoom to do some back-up catering.”
“Thank God for that.”
As if on cue, Ben from the tearoom pushed the door open and came into the shop carrying several platters of sandwiches and cakes.
“Hi, Megan, Ellie sent me down with these,” he said. “Where do you want them?”
I directed him to the buffet table that we’d set up. “Great,” he said. “There’s a few more loads to go.”
“I’ll give you a hand,” Dad said. “You go and get ready, Megan love.”
They disappeared out of the door together and I went upstairs to join Mum and Missy.
“Put your dress on and I’ll do your hair,” Mum said.
“Please try not to hurt me today,” I replied as Missy poured me a glass of champagne.
“Have you heard from Xander?” Missy asked.
The people I care about call me Alex. I still couldn’t imagine calling him Alex, but did that mean he cared about me? I hadn’t heard from him since he’d phoned on Saturday morning.
“Not since Saturday, but he said he’d be here,” I replied. I had no reason to think he wasn’t on his way but the nerves were taking over and I wouldn’t believe he was coming until I saw him in the bookshop. My stomach had been in knots all day and I’d hardly been able to eat a thing.
“Is he wearing Regency dress? He’s going to look hot as hell in breeches.”
“Missy.” I laughed. “Can you just not?”
“Sorry.” She giggled. “But you know it’s true.”
“All the boys look pretty good in their Regency outfits, I think,” Mum said, doing up the tiny buttons at the back of my gown. “I thought it would all be a bit bizarre you know, especially your father, but I’ve been pleasantly surprised.”
“I think we all have,” Missy said. “Who knew Bryn and Norm would look good in tailcoats?”
“Who knew they made tailcoats in their size?” I replied.
*
When we went back downstairs the bookshop was in a state of transformation. The Die-Hards and their partners had arrived in full costume and they had all remembered to bring greenery with them, which they were laying out along the bookshelves and display cabinets. Most of them had brought various sorts of ivy but Dot had arrived wearing protective gloves and carrying a huge bunch of holly.
“It’s from my garden,” she said. “But it’s very prickly, so please be careful.”
I tried not to notice that Xander wasn’t here yet and I still hadn’t heard from him. “Everything looks wonderful,” I said. “Thank you so much.”
“Traditionally,” Trixie said. “It was the mantelpieces that were decorated in each room, but I think bookshelves work just as well.”
“They really do.”
“And they kept the greenery inside until twelfth night, but I suspect you’ll need to take it down when you reopen on Boxing Day.”
“Sadly yes,” I replied. “I don’t think Dot’s holly will pass any sort of health and safety inspection.”
“I’ve got mistletoe,” Bella announced, waving a big bag of the stuff in my face. “For kissing under,” she went on, as though we had no idea what mistletoe was for. “I’m going to get Norm to put it up everywhere.”
“Do you have to?” I asked.
“Of course I have to,” she squealed. “Norm and I don’t need any help on the kissing front of course, but some people—” and at this point she poked me hard in the ribs “—need a little bit of a kickstart.”
Missy walked over to see what Bella had in the bag. “Oooh mistletoe,” she said.
“For kissing under,” Bella replied and they both made kissing faces at me.
“For God’s sake, stop it,” I hissed.
Missy looked around. “Where is Xander anyway?”
“He’s not here yet,” I replied, trying to keep my face and voice as neutral as possible, but by this point I was a mess of anxiety. What if he didn’t come? What if, after everything, this didn’t work?
“He’s on his way,” Dot confirmed, squeezing my arm. Clearly my attempt at neutrality wasn’t working. “And he’s bringing someone.”
My stomach sank. “What sort of someone?” I asked, all attempts at neutrality out of the window.
“You’ll see,” Dot said. “Brace yourself.”
“Oooh, a secret wife.” Missy giggled. How much champagne had she had? “Oh sorry, Megan, I didn’t mean… He’s actually got one of those, hasn’t he?”
“Ex-wife,” I said. “Keep your voice down.”
“Stop worrying, Megan,” Dot said. “It’s nothing like that. He’ll be here soon; the traffic was bad – that’s all.”
I didn’t have a lot of time to think about it because the guests started to arrive. Mum and Dad were in charge of food and drink and I heard Dad explaining that the Regency food was more of an experiment and the real party food was on the other buffet table and supplied by people who could actually cook. None of us had had any success with Trixie’s recipes and the food sat on the table looking greasy and forlorn.
“I had to use lard to make these pasties,” Bella said, picking one up and looking at it in disgust. “I didn’t even know you could still buy lard.”
The guests were a mix of suppliers, book reviewers and bloggers, local writers and regular customers – and a surprising number of them had done their best to wear Regency dress, although quite a lot of it looked more Victorian. Once everyone had arrived (everyone but Xander, who was still missing) Trixie took over.
“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen,” she said. “And welcome to our Regency Christmas Eve.” She went on to talk about various Regency traditions, which included pouring scorn on the Christmas tree and trying to force people to eat the disgusting lardy food. (“Avoid the potato puddings,” Dad called out.) She showed everyone the card tables and encouraged them to all have a game of whist or pontoon. “And later on there will be a demonstration of Regency dancing.” I glanced at the door again at that point. I wouldn’t be dancing at all if Xander didn’t show up soon.
“He’ll be here,” Dot whispered in my ear.
Everyone started to settle into the party spirit. Quite a few people were playing cards – I ignored the fact they were clearly playing for money – and others were already on the dance floor pretending to be in a Jane Austen adaptation. Bella, Missy, Norm and Bryn were trying to organise an unofficial quadrille while Dad appeared to be showing how inedible the potato pudding was by bouncing it on the floor.
I looked around me at the bookshop I’d dedicated the last three years of my life to, and felt a wave of sadness. It didn’t seem real to me that in just a few weeks the shop would be stripped bare, the sage green bookshelves empty and door locked for the last time. I’d known this place for my whole life – it had been the home I’d come to as a newborn baby straight from the hospital, the place where I’d laughed with friends and cried over scraped knees and teenage fallings-out, where I’d studied for my GCSEs and A levels. It was the place where I’d first met Missy and Bella, where we’d hosted countless Die-Hard Romantic Book Clubs and, while it might not be the place where I’d first set eyes on him, it was the place where I’d first got to know Xander, where we’d first tentatively admitted how we felt.
I was ready to step into the next phase of my life. But I was going to miss the bookshop with every ounce of my being.
I was snapped out of my memories by the bookshop door bursting open.
“Darlings we’re here. So sorry we’re late!” boomed a voice. Philomena Bloom had arrived, dressed in what can only be described as a peculiar steampunk outfit that included top hat, goggles and stripy tights. It was as far removed from Regency as it was possible to get while still wearing a corset. As far as I was aware she hadn’t been invited. I presumed that she’d just invited herself.
“They’re here,” I heard Dot say next to me, but I wasn’t looking at Philomena anymore because behind her, dressed in tailcoat and breeches and looking even more gorgeous than I thought possible, was Xander. His face was pale and grim-looking and he was laden down with three huge tote bags, which must be Philomena’s.
But then he saw me, his eyes locked on mine, and he smiled that smile that lit up the whole room.