by Emma Davies
She clutched the notebook to her, touching it to her lips as a wave of emotion swept over her. She lurched up from the bed, her mum’s nightie falling to the floor. She stopped then and picked it up, sniffing hard as tears rolled down her face, and gently she placed it on the bed. ‘Thanks, Mum,’ she whispered. ‘For everything.’
Eyes swimming, she raced down the stairs and into the kitchen, snatching up her phone from the table. She pressed the home button to bring the screen to life, Jasper’s text still visible – a text he had sent to her earlier in the day, and one that she had read a hundred times over. She could hardly see it for tears but she knew it by heart now, anyway. It was a line from a song by The Byrds they had danced to recently.
Underneath it Jasper had written: The seasons turn Lia, and I will still be here waiting. Take time, Lia, as much as you need. Merry Christmas, Jasper x
She raced around the house, snatching things at random, looking at her watch every few minutes. Even though she had all the time in the world, she now couldn’t bear to waste a single second.
The lights were turned off one by one, until Lia was ready, standing in the hallway, trembling, with one hand on the door. She took a deep breath and pulled it open, smiling as she closed it gently behind her. Then, walking out into the deserted streets, she gave one final look at the darkened house, climbed into her car and drove towards the twinkling lights ahead of her. Jasper’s house was only about half an hour away, and if she was lucky there would still be time for one last dance before bed.
* * *
By contrast, Lucy’s house was full of people and the noise level had been steadily rising all evening. Her brother, sister and Clive had been making cocktails for the last hour or so. It was the same every year: her mum became increasingly merry on sherry during the afternoon as everyone helped to prepare the mammoth lunch they would all devour on Christmas Day. It was a time that Lucy loved, and more so this year because she had got to watch the look on Callum’s face, which radiated with happiness. He had even tried his hand at making sausage rolls, much to Clive’s amusement, but now they had left the rest of the family to it and escaped to the relative quiet of the living room.
Without thinking, she picked up her notebook from the table beside the sofa and turned to the last entry, rereading the words she had written there earlier this morning.
‘Well,’ said Callum, grinning. ‘Have you given everyone the ending they deserve?’
Lucy tapped her pen against her teeth. ‘I think so,’ she replied. ‘Yes, I have.’ Then, much stronger now, ‘In fact, it all turns out wonderfully.’
Callum sighed and reached for the box of After Eights. ‘But what about you?’ he asked. ‘I hope you’ve given yourself a brilliant future?’
Lucy caught the twinkle in his eye. ‘What, about us, you mean?’ she said, leaning into him for a kiss. ‘Of course, I have. In fact, it’s the best of the lot. I’d say it’s practically perfect.’
Epilogue
Eighteen months later
Lucy hardly dared to ask the question, even though all the faces in front of her were grinning like Cheshire cats.
‘Well?’ she said. ‘Put me out of my misery. What do you all think?’
Lia gave an exaggerated sigh. ‘As if you have to ask, Lucy. Honestly, what are you like?’
Oscar closed the book in his hands and turned it over, stroking the cover and turning it back again. ‘Lucy’s Book Club for the Lost and Found,’ he read. ‘Who’d have thought it? But it is, of course, the most marvellous book, Lucy. You’ve done us proud and I am so very, very pleased for you.’
‘I think it’s flippin’ amazing,’ said Hattie with a grin. ‘I can’t believe everything that’s happened.’
‘You can’t believe everything that’s happened?’ echoed Lucy. ‘What about me? I still think I’m dreaming.’
Callum took her hand and kissed it, then gave it a gentle pinch. ‘Nope, not dreaming,’ he said. ‘In four weeks’ time, you’re going to be a published author.’
Lucy looked back at her husband of only two months. Then she turned to Lia, who glowed with vitality. She and Jasper were going to be married in the summer, and whatever else the wedding arrangements involved, Lucy was certain of two things: the first was that Hattie would be making Lia’s wedding dress, and the second was that their first dance together was going to be the best first dance in the history of the world – ever.
Next to Hattie sat Oscar, smiling at her, like any proud grandparent. They were still no nearer to finding out the truth about their relationship, but it mattered little. As far as they were concerned, they were granddaughter and grandfather and they didn’t need a slip of paper to tell them otherwise. In time, Lucy hoped that Hattie’s mum would take the final step on her own very personal journey – but whatever happened, all would be well.
In fact, all would be well for them all; of that she was sure. She glanced up, running her eyes down the length of the library. Who would have thought all those months ago that the members of her little book club would be sitting here today, discussing their dreams – and even holding in their hands the book that had made her own dream come true?
Hadn’t she always thought that the library was a place where help was just around the corner? She glanced up at the arch of the ceiling above her, its shape just like that of an upturned boat, a vessel which had carried them to a better place.
Oscar cleared his throat, peering intently at the pages of the book he still held in his hands. ‘I don’t know what to say,’ he said. ‘Look at this.’ He gave Lucy a smile that melted her heart.
She held up her own copy. ‘Well who else could I dedicate it to,’ she said, ‘if not to you all?’ And she opened the front cover and began to read.
To Callum, Lia, Oscar, Hattie and Jasper
Five of the best, who not only gave me their stories, but who also taught me how to write.
Lia held her hand against her chest and sighed. ‘Oh, that’s beautiful, Lucy, just beautiful.’ And then she grinned. ‘Utter rubbish of course – I mean, how could we possibly teach you how to write?’
‘But you did!’ protested Lucy. ‘Don’t you see? There I was, twenty-four years of age, knowing nothing about anything. Then along all of you came and taught me about everything that was important: love, sadness, friendship, happiness, sacrifice, fear, devotion, loneliness and hope – all the things that make us who we are. How could I ever have written a book without knowing those things? So, you see, I couldn’t have done it without you.’
Callum pulled a face. ‘Passion,’ he said. ‘She always forgets about the passion…’
Lucy elbowed him in the ribs. ‘Shh! Not in the library,’ she said fiercely. But she was laughing, they all were. ‘I honestly can’t thank you all enough. I just hope everyone loves it as much as you do.’
‘Oh, they will, Lucy, they will,’ said Hattie. ‘I mean, what’s not to like? We all turned out fabulous.’
‘You did!’ Lucy grinned at them all. ‘But what a responsibility. I was so worried I wouldn’t be able to do it. I mean, what if I didn’t do you all justice? Besides which, I don’t even know yet how the stories end.’
Lia laughed. ‘But that’s the best bit, Lucy,’ she said. ‘None of us do. It’s just like life: none of us knows what’s going to happen next – we’re all just making it up as we go along.’
* * *
***
Want to read more from Emma Davies? Sign up at the link below to find out when her next book comes out!
* * *
Sign up here!
A Letter from Emma
I really hope you’ve enjoyed reading Lucy’s Book Club for the Lost and Found. Thank you so much! Of course, now that you have it means that I’m already busy with my new series of books, and I’m just as excited about those too! You can sign up to my newsletter here and that way you’ll be the first to hear all my news:
Sign up here!
As Lucy herself says, how can a libra
ry not be a special place? Within its books lie so many worlds, so many stories. Whenever you lose yourself in the pages of a book, you are entering these worlds; you can be anywhere you want to be, and anyone you want to be. The fact that all this can happen from a collection of letters on a page is proof of their magic. And that’s exactly what happened to me; I lost myself in this book and, in doing so, I hope created something magical. If you loved Lucy’s story as much as I enjoyed writing it, it would mean the world to me if you could spare a few minutes to write a review and share some of the love that Lucy and I created. You could even tell all your friends, your neighbours, dental receptionist – anyone who’ll listen! – and, of course, your local librarian as well! That would make me very happy.
One of the things I love is hearing from readers, so do come and say hello. You can find me on Twitter and I’m on Facebook too. Or pop by my website where you can read about my love of Pringles among other things…
Hope to see you soon,
Love Emma x
www.emmadaviesauthor.com
Also by Emma Davies
Letting in Light
Turn Towards the Sun
* * *
Merry Mistletoe
Spring Fever
Gooseberry Fool
Blackberry Way
Acknowledgements
Lucy’s Book Club for the Lost and Found is such a special book for me. It was written after a very difficult year for me personally, and the fact that this book exists at all is testament to the love and support from my family and friends, but also to the people who provided the inspiration for it: the staff and customers at my local library, who provided the laughs, the encouragement, the most amazing conversations, and the endless cups of tea and biscuits. There are a few very special people I’d like to single out, but I won’t, for their sake. Suffice to say that they have joined the list of my most favourite people on the planet and, I hope, know who they are. This book is my very special thank-you to them.
I’ve been quite vocal in the past about my love of libraries. Ever since I was a small child they have been a huge part of my life and it breaks my heart to think that in my lifetime I might see the total demise of community libraries, my own included. Our library is so much more than somewhere to borrow books from, or use the computers – for many it is a lifeline to the world outside. We can quantify how much it costs to pay staff and heat the buildings, but I’ve never met an accountant yet who can put a price on inspiration or knowledge, the comfort and escape provided by a good book, the companionship and care that they find there, or the happiness and laughter that fills the air within the building every single day it is open. It is quite simply, priceless, and we are all forever in its debt.
Published by Bookouture
An imprint of StoryFire Ltd.
Carmelite House
50 Victoria Embankment
London EC4Y 0DZ
* * *
www.bookouture.com
Copyright © Emma Davies 2017
* * *
Emma Davies has asserted her right to be identified as the author of this work.
* * *
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in any retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the publishers.
* * *
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places and events other than those clearly in the public domain, are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
ISBN: 978-1-78681-321-3
