An odd sort of bark shot out of Maddy and made Jemma jump. Then she realised it was a laugh. Maddy looked as surprised as she felt. ‘What will you ask him?’ she said.
‘I’d like his advice about buying books,’ Jemma replied. ‘I’m a bit worried that otherwise I’ll get fleeced.’
‘Oh yes, very wise,’ said Maddy. ‘Always good to consult an expert. Although the names I’ve given you should help a lot.’
‘I’m sure they will,’ said Jemma. ‘And there are a couple of other things I want to ask him. Anyway, tea.’ She went into the kitchen and filled the kettle. She felt guilty that she had no intention of using the information that Maddy had vouchsafed to her. But not very.
***
She found Raphael upstairs doing the crossword, while Folio snoozed in a patch of bright autumn sunlight. ‘How are things?’ she asked.
Raphael considered. ‘The bookshop’s doing well,’ he said.
‘I know it is,’ said Jemma automatically. Then she noted his emphasis on the word bookshop. ‘How about you?’
Raphael sighed. ‘Still fielding criticism of my, what was it, namby-pamby people-pleasing gone-to-the-dogs recruitment process.’
‘Oh dear,’ said Jemma.
‘Yes dear,’ said Raphael. He waved a hand. ‘Anyway, what brings you here?’
‘I want to repaint the exterior of the shop,’ said Jemma. ‘And give it a new name, and buy plenty of books for it.’
‘I see,’ said Raphael. ‘So the new stock’s selling well, then?’
‘I haven’t put it out yet,’ Jemma confessed, and explained the reason why. ‘Carl made me see that I should make a proper change, not just tinker round the edges.’
‘I see,’ said Raphael. ‘Carl, eh?’
‘He’s smart,’ said Jemma, indignantly.
‘I never said he wasn’t,’ said Raphael. ‘So are you telling me, or asking me?’
‘I’m asking you,’ said Jemma. ‘I wouldn’t presume to rename and repaint your shop without your permission.’
‘And if I said no,’ said Raphael, ‘what would you do?’
Jemma studied him, but his words seemed hypothetical. She could feel a smile trying to get out. ‘I’d attempt to talk you round.’
‘Of course you would,’ said Raphael. ‘And for the record, you’re doing the right thing. What I would suggest is that you don’t pick a colour or a name that you’re likely to get tired of.’ He paused. ‘Do you have something in mind?’
‘Not yet,’ admitted Jemma. ‘I was just thinking not black and not BJF Antiquarian Books.’ She slapped her forehead. ‘Which is exactly what Carl told me I was doing. Being negative.’ Then she looked at Raphael. ‘Actually, that might help you,’ she said.
‘Might it?’ said Raphael.
‘Yes,’ said Jemma. ‘You’re firefighting at the moment, aren’t you? Dealing with people’s negative feedback and what they don’t want, and you don’t want that either. Maybe if you focused on telling them what you hope to get out of making the changes, they’d understand.’
‘Oh,’ said Raphael. ‘I did say I was doing this so that I didn’t hire another Brian.’ He mused. ‘Good heavens.’
‘We both need to reframe our narratives,’ said Jemma.
Raphael winced. ‘What I need is a nice cappuccino.’
‘You know what,’ said Jemma, ‘you could be right.’
***
Over cappuccinos and a biscotti each at Rolando’s, Raphael outlined the dos and don’ts of buying stock, and gave her three names. One was a house-clearance man with a warehouse in Putney; one was a secondhand book dealer in Colindale; and the third, according to Raphael, had no profession. ‘I would call her a snapper-up of unconsidered trifles,’ he said. ‘She is more expensive, but if you’re seeking a particular volume she’s sure to have it. Very important when you’re making a set.’ He sat back. ‘What sort of stock are you looking for, anyway?’
‘Books I want to read,’ said Jemma. ‘Not necessarily books that I have read, but books I’d like to read someday. And books that look nice on the shelves. It’s hard to explain, but I’ll know it when I see it.’
‘You’ll know it when you feel it,’ said Raphael. He drained his cappuccino and Giulia appeared at his elbow. ‘Un altro?’ she asked.
‘Sì, grazie,’ said Raphael, and smiled at her. She laid a hand on his shoulder briefly, then picked up his cup and was gone.
Jemma frowned. ‘Are you two…?’
‘She is a lovely person,’ said Raphael, ‘and smart as a whip. Under different circumstances…’ He muttered something and Jemma caught the last few words: ‘couldn’t go through it again.’
‘But would you make each other happy?’ she asked, very quietly and very gently.
Raphael shrugged. ‘Probably. For a little while.’ And then he looked sad, until Giulia reappeared with another cappuccino with two little Gianduja chocolates tucked into the saucer. ‘One for you,’ she said to Jemma, pointing at the chocolates, then at her. ‘Don’t let him eat both.’ And with a chuckle, she was gone.
‘I’m saying nothing,’ said Jemma, helping herself to a chocolate. ‘You know what I think.’ She unwrapped it and took a bite.
‘Everything is so simple when you’re young,’ said Raphael, wistfully. ‘Even now I can remember it.’ He took a sip of his cappuccino. ‘But I think you’re right about my problem.’ He smiled. ‘So, thank you.’
Jemma took a convoluted route back to her shop, which passed the hardware store. There she grabbed all the paint catalogues she could lay hands on, and popped them in her bag. I’ll look at them over lunch and pick out some colours. And I can think about a name while Maddy serves the customers. A secret naughty thrill ran through her, as if she were planning to get something past a teacher, or possibly her mother. I should just do it, she thought. Openly, in front of Maddy, so that she knows what’s going to happen.
Then she considered, and grinned. Actually, she admitted to herself, I like the idea that I’m sneaking this in under Maddy’s nose. Maybe it’s because it feels as if I’m outwitting Brian. Outwitting Brian, she had to admit, was a delightful thought. Almost as delightful as the thought that soon, very soon, she would have a bookshop arranged exactly the way she wanted it.
Chapter 11
‘Are you sure you don’t want me to come?’ said Raphael.
‘I’ll be fine,’ said Jemma. ‘Driving is like riding a bike; you never forget how. I promise I’ll look after Gertrude.’ She jingled the keys, hoping she appeared less apprehensive than she felt. She was a good driver – no accidents, no speeding tickets – though an infrequent one. And she had never driven a vehicle as big as Gertrude. However, she was unlikely to have to parallel park or do a three-point turn in a narrow road. ‘Slow and steady wins the race,’ she added.