Along with an extraordinary sight.
Shelves of various heights and colors, pieced from odds and ends of repurposed wood, once more offered an array of books lining the walls, and the shelves stacked at the shop’s center had been dusted and filled as well. Pasteboard signs in a neat script hung once more where they ought to, and even several advertising displays had been replaced.
It was too much in the most wonderful way. An absolute miracle.
And many of the faces she recognized from her book readings were there, watching her with tired, bright smiles.
“I…” Grace’s words caught. “You did all of this?”
“We worked through the night and most of the day,” Mrs. Kittering said. “Lucky for us there wasn’t a single air raid.”
“It isn’t all organized yet,” Mrs. Smithwick said apologetically, fingering the pearls at her neck. “But we’re working on it.”
“You’ve done a fine job, Mrs. Smithwick,” Jack said to her with a nod.
She beamed broadly, the wrinkles at the corners of her eyes crinkling.
“This is incredible,” Grace breathed. If she looked for hours on end, she still might not believe that her shop was back in working condition.
“We had to use scraps to put it all together.” Jack glanced about, his eyes squinted in assessment. “But it’s a sound shop, so long as the Germans don’t try bombing it again.”
“I don’t know how I can ever repay you.” Grace put her hand to her chest. Her heart felt too large to fit within its confines.
“Everyone wanted to do their bit to help,” Jack said with a nod to the group.
He moved back and little Sarah took a step forward. Grace recognized the blue-and-white polka-dot dress as one Mrs. Weatherford had sewn from some of Viv’s spare fabric.
Sarah sucked in a deep breath and announced in a very loud voice, much like an actress, “Every day you read to a crowd. But they’re not just stories, for many of us, they’re a sanctuary.” She said the last word slowly and Jimmy gave her a thumbs-up. She twisted with apparent pride as children are wont to do and took a deep breath again, meeting Grace’s eye. “And you’re not just someone who reads to us. You’re a hero.”
Such words rendered Grace speechless. She wavered on her feet, light-headed with gratitude.
Jack approached her. “You saved my life, Miss Bennett. Were it not for your readings, I’d have been blown to bits at Marble Arch. Thank you.”
He didn’t wait for a reply and stepped back, lowering his head with gratitude. Mrs. Kittering replaced his position at Grace’s side. “I was in a dark place when you found me sobbing in your store. You gave me the light to keep going. Thank you.”
She departed and Jimmy stepped forward. “I couldn’t have cared for Sarah the way you’ve done along with Mrs. Weatherford. You gave us food and clothes when we had none.”
“And now a home,” Sarah said as she peered shyly from his side. “Thank you.”
“That makes me so happy,” Grace said, realizing the children had agreed to come live with her and Mrs. Weatherford.
They left together, hand in hand, and Mrs. Smithwick stepped forward. “My Tommy was killed in the war and so was my Donald.” She looked down and discreetly glanced over her shoulder. “You don’t know it, but you saved my life as well,” she said so softly Grace nearly didn’t hear. “By my own hands. You showed me that when all seems lost to the enemy, one can always find a friend.”
On and on they all came forward. A man whose leg Grace had bound after a blast with whom she’d shared by memory the details from The Count of Monte Cristo, distracting him from the pain. A professor who had been seeking a welcome place to find fellow readers, having discovered them at Primrose Hill Books. A shop owner who had lost everything with the Paternoster Row bombing. And even Mrs. Nesbitt, who apologized for her past transgressions and offered her thanks for everything Grace had done.
Last came Mrs. Weatherford who stepped forward with a watery smile. “You saved me, Grace Bennett. When I lost Colin and thought I had nothing left, you reminded me there was a purpose to my life. What’s more, you pointed me in the direction I should go.” She glanced at Jimmy and Sarah, the latter of whom waved with vigorous affection. “I knew your mother better than anyone on this green Earth and I tell you right now—she would have been so proud. Of your sacrifice and your courage and your strength.”
She caught Grace in an embrace. “And I’m proud of you too, my dear,” she whispered.