This Book Made Me Think of You(70)
“I’ll go on this outing with her. But I’m telling you, Tilly has no interest in someone like me.”
Blue pulls him into a sideways hug. “Alf, you may not be my type, but I hope you know that you have a lot to offer.”
“Absolutely,” says Prudence, wrapping an arm around him from the other side. “Anyone would be lucky to have you in their life.”
He gives in to the hugs, the feel of their warmth and love seeping into him. Then he wriggles away, clearing his throat and running a hand through his messy hair.
“Come on, these books won’t unpack themselves.”
Forty-Four
“Just a nice understated sitting room then,” Alfie says as the Buckingham Palace tour guide leads them and the rest of their group into the White Drawing Room, a room dripping in crystal chandeliers, ornate furniture, and shining gold. Every single surface gleams. There’s a richly decorative red rug, marble statues, and a bright gold grand piano elaborately embellished with cherubs and woodland creatures. The tour guide begins to explain the provenance of the room’s furniture, the rest of the group gathering close to listen while Tilly and Alfie linger at the back.
Tilly has dressed for the occasion in her tweed coat worn over a red floral tea dress, cream tights, blue Converse, and earrings made from dollhouse teapots she found at a charity shop and fashioned into jewelry. Alfie is in one of his usual chunky knit sweaters, this time rust brown, but worn with dark indigo jeans that actually fit him and look brand-new. Tilly keeps wanting to tell him how nice he looks but holds back, deciding it would probably mortify him.
“Yes, I can see they went for a muted, minimalist look in here,” she whispers.
“I like the subtlety. They could have painted the floor gold as well as the walls and ceilings, but they clearly thought, ‘No, that would be too much,’ and restrained themselves.”
“I can just imagine Camilla curled up on that gold sofa to eat a Nando’s.”
Alfie lets out a snort, and the tour guide shoots them a look. Tilly watches as he struggles to compose himself, and she feels a thrill at having broken his ever-polite demeanor.
* * *
—
“I think this is my favorite bit,” Tilly says later as she takes a breath of the autumn air, having been led out into the gardens. She could easily picture stretching out on the grass with a book in the summer. For a second, she imagines Alfie doing the same, perhaps with his long limbs sprawling out of a hammock. The sun picks out the auburn in his hair as he looks up at the sky, his eyes closing, his long, dark lashes dipping.
“I agree,” he replies. “It’s just a shame they didn’t show us the library, I’m sure with all those rooms they must have one. What do you think King Charles likes to read?”
“Whodunits?”
“Rom-coms?”
“Self-help?”
“Westerns?”
“Oh, I know,” Tilly says, clicking her fingers together. “Celebrity memoirs. Maybe he’s read some of the ones I used to publish. The inspiring stories of TikTok stars rising to fame. I bet he’d really go for that.”
Alfie laughs again, throwing his head back, and Tilly feels the sound vibrate through her entire body.
* * *
—
Is this what it feels like to be…relaxed? It has been so long since Alfie took a day off that he almost doesn’t recognize the feeling as he walks along the South Bank, the River Thames flowing on one side and Tilly on the other, swinging her arms and looking around animatedly as though they really are tourists.
“Ooh, can we stop here a minute?” she says as they spot tables overloaded with secondhand books beneath a bridge. It is cool and damp here, the air smelling of river and old paper.
“Do you even have to ask?”
They split up, Tilly heading for the classic novels and Alfie lingering at the travel books. He spots a tattered guide to Mexico, noting how well used the book looks, pages folded down and stained in places. Exactly how travel books should look, unlike the pristine ones in his collection at home.
“You know, you could actually go to some of these places instead of just reading about them,” says Tilly, appearing at his side.
“You’re forgetting I run a bookshop…”
For a few hours he had even managed to forget about it too. But his anxieties come rushing back. He puts down the book and steps away from the stand.
“You left Prudence and Blue in charge today.”
“That’s just one day. I couldn’t go away for longer than that.”
“Prudence and Blue seem pretty capable. Don’t you trust them?”
“They are capable and I do trust them, that’s not the issue. It’s just I’m the one who is ultimately responsible. I don’t think I could switch off even if I did go away. The shop is always on my mind. What would be the point in traveling when in my mind I’d still be in the shop?”
“I get that,” says Tilly. The path is busy with people out enjoying the autumn sunshine, wrapped up in coats and scarves against the cold breeze that rushes in from the river. They sidestep a family with strollers and are nudged momentarily closer together. “But it’s so much easier to stay in touch these days. You could go away and still check in with the shop from afar.”