‘This is the family home.’
Again, Callie experienced a pang of envy as she thought about her own childhood and how many different homes she’d known. Her mother liked to move house and Callie must have lived in at least five growing up, so the idea of having a family home that one could come back to was a completely alien concept to her.
‘It’s beautiful,’ she said, looking at the great sash windows which were at once imposing and yet friendly with their chintzy curtains and pots of geraniums on the windowsills.
‘You’ll have to come in for lunch,’ Sam said, turning to her.
‘Oh, I couldn’t possibly.’
‘There’s always plenty,’ Sam said. ‘Mum makes masses of food and then sends us all home with doggy bags.’
‘I don’t want to impose,’ she said.
‘But I imposed on you,’ Sam said, giving her a little grin.
‘No you didn’t,’ she said.
‘Please – come on in.’
Callie was just about to say no again when the front door was opened and a beautiful woman with long dark hair worn loose approached the car.
‘You’ve been spotted,’ Sam warned her as he got out of the car. ‘There’ll be no getting away now.’
‘There you are!’ the woman said, walking across the driveway with a couple of dogs in tow. ‘We were getting worried about you.’
‘Hi, Mum,’ Sam said, giving her pale cheek a kiss. ‘I had a spot of trouble with the car.’
‘And this kind lady gave you a lift?’
‘Mum, this is Callie.’
Callie got out of the car. ‘Hello, Mrs Nightingale.’
‘Eleanor,’ she said. ‘Call me Eleanor. And it’s lovely to meet you, Callie. I take it you’re joining us for lunch?’
‘Oh, well, I–’
‘I’ve already asked her to,’ Sam said.
‘I should hope so,’ Eleanor said.
‘That’s very kind,’ Callie said, ‘but I wouldn’t want to–’
‘There’s always plenty to eat,’ Eleanor said, ushering her into the house.
Callie’s eyes widened as she took in the homely splendour of Campion House. It was a house full of books, lamps and comfortable chairs in which to read, and Callie instantly fell in love with it even though she felt a little nervous about joining them for lunch unannounced.
‘A real family home,’ she whispered to herself.
‘What’s that, my dear?’ Eleanor asked.
‘It’s a beautiful home,’ she said.
‘We’ve been very happy here,’ Eleanor said. ‘Although it’s been a lot of work over the years. It was a bit of a shell when we first moved in. Took years to make it truly ours.’
‘Well, it’s lovely.’
‘Thank you,’ Eleanor said, taking Callie’s coat as she took it off. ‘So you’re the writer?’
‘Yes,’ Callie said.
‘And you’ve just moved to Suffolk?’
Callie cleared her throat, wondering just how much Eleanor Nightingale knew about her already.
‘That’s right,’ she said.
‘And you’re happy here, I hope?’
‘Oh, I love it,’ Callie said. ‘I can’t imagine living anywhere else now.’
‘Suffolk has that effect on you,’ Eleanor said. ‘Once you’ve discovered how lovely it is, it’s impossible to leave. Now, let me introduce you to everyone. You’ve already met Hardy and Brontë.’
‘Have I?’ Callie said.
‘She means the dogs,’ Sam said. ‘Hardy’s the black and white pointer and Brontë’s the liver and white spaniel.’
‘Oh, I see,’ Callie said, wondering where the dogs had disappeared to.
‘So, the rest of the family,’ Eleanor said.
‘Get ready for the onslaught,’ Sam whispered from behind her and Callie felt her body spike with nerves as she was led through to the living room. It was an elegant room at the front of the house, the large sash window letting in plenty of autumn light. The far wall was lined with a floor to ceiling bookcase and there were beautiful oil paintings of local landscapes on the other walls. There were two huge sofas covered in heaps of cushions and a richly-coloured rug gave the room a warm feel.
Callie immediately recognised Polly from having met her in Sam’s shop.
‘Hello,’ Polly said with a warm smile. Her dark hair was scraped back away from her face and she was sitting on one of the sofas next to a young boy. ‘This is Archie. Say hello to Callie, Archie.’
The big-eyed boy looked up from the book he was reading. ‘Hello,’ he said with a goofy grin.
‘What are you reading?’ Callie asked.
‘Perry’s Planet,’ he said.
‘It’s good, isn’t it?’
‘Have you read it?’ he asked.
‘I have,’ she said, ‘and I know the writer.’
‘Really?’ Archie said, his mouth dropping open as he looked to his mother to either confirm or debunk Callie’s statement.
‘Callie’s a writer too,’ Polly said.
‘Cool!’ Archie said in awe.
‘Although my books are mainly aimed at girls,’ she confessed.
‘Why?’ he asked her with the unnerving directness of the young.
‘Erm–’ Callie went blank for a moment. ‘Perhaps because I was a little girl once.’
‘Oh,’ Archie said. ‘Well, boys are better.’
Callie laughed. ‘I’ll bear that in mind when I’m writing my next book.’
Next to Polly and Archie on the sofa was Josh whom Callie had met in the shop next door to Sam’s.
‘Hi Callie,’ he said, getting up and shaking her hand. ‘How are you getting on with that Roger Deakin book?’
‘Very well,’ she said. ‘Beautiful prose. Puts my own to shame,’ she said. ‘That’s the curse of a good book, I’m afraid. It either inspires you with its greatness or intimidates you into believing that you’ll never write decent word yourself again.’
‘Well, let’s hope for more inspiration than intimidation,’ Josh said.
‘Callie,’ Sam said, ‘let me introduce you to our grandmother, Nell.’
Callie turned to see an elderly lady with a pretty round face and masses of curly white hair.
‘Grandma, this is my friend Callie.’
‘Pleased to meet you,’ Callie said, bending to shake the old lady’s hand.
‘Have we met before?’ Nell asked, looking confused.
‘No, Grandma,’ Sam said. ‘Callie’s just moved to Suffolk.’
Nell nodded, but she still looked confused.
‘And this is my dad,’ Sam said, as a large man strode into the room, clapping his great hands together.
‘Your mother tells me we have a guest!’ he said. ‘Very pleased to meet you, young lady. I’m Frank.’
‘Good to meet you too,’ Callie said, shaking hands.
It was then that Grandpa Joe entered the room, clocking Callie immediately.
‘You made it!’ he said.
‘But I wasn’t expected,’ Callie said in confusion.
‘You’d have found your way here eventually,’ he said.
‘Take no notice of him,’ Sam said. ‘I’ve only to mention a woman’s name once and he’s got my whole future mapped out.’ He shook his head. ‘Callie gave me a lift, Grandpa. My car broke down in her village.’
‘Oh, yes,’ he said, stroking his chin. ‘I think that happened to my car once when I was trying to date your grandma.’
Sam rolled his eyes. ‘I apologise on behalf of my grandfather,’ he said.
Callie just laughed.
‘Where’s Bry?’ Sam asked.
‘On her way,’ Frank said.
‘Isn’t that her now?’ Josh asked from the sofa as a screech of tyres was heard on the gravel driveway outside.
‘Auntie Bryony!’ Archie shouted, dropping his book and leaping up from the sofa to run to the front door.
‘Be careful with your book!’ Eleanor cried as she
came into the room. ‘Honestly, you’d think he’d know better growing up in family of booksellers.’
‘I’ll do that,’ Polly said, getting up from the sofa to retrieve the discarded book just as Eleanor bent to pick it up. ‘Archie always turns completely wild whenever Bryony’s around. She’s a very bad influence on him.’ This was said with a fond smile and Callie began to look forward to the aunt who could inspire such rebellion.
‘I’m here everyone!’ a singing voice called from the hallway a moment later as the front door was opened. ‘Hello Archie!’
‘Auntie Bryony – Uncle Sam’s brought a writer with him.’
‘Really?’
‘Come and meet her. She’s nice even though she only writes books for girls,’ Callie heard Archie say.
A moment later, Archie appeared back in the room having dragged his aunt by the hand so that she wouldn’t hold things up.
‘CALLIE LOGAN!’ Bryony cried as soon as she laid eyes on her.
Josh roared with laughter.
‘Have we met?’ Callie said, quite sure that they hadn’t.
‘No, but I’ve just been having a look at your website,’ Bryony said, her big brown eyes wide with excitement. ‘Sam mentioned you’d been into his shop and I was so jealous. He’s been keeping you all to himself!’
‘Don’t be so melodramatic, Bry,’ Sam said.
‘I thought I was destined never to meet you!’ Bryony said. ‘Sam met you, then Josh and Polly.’
‘I met her before you too,’ Archie said with a grin.
‘That’s right!’ Bryony said, coming forward to shake Callie’s hand. ‘I think everybody in the whole world has met you before me and that really isn’t fair at all.’
‘It’s great to meet you,’ Callie said, smiling at the wall of enthusiasm she was greeted by.
‘Why haven’t you come to my shop yet?’ Bryony continued without, it seemed, drawing a single breath.
‘Don’t hassle her,’ Sam said.
‘I’m not,’ Bryony said. ‘Am I hassling you?’
‘No, of course not,’ Callie said.
‘See, Sam?’
‘Well, she’s not likely to admit that you are, is she?’ Sam said.
‘Oh, he’s such a bore. Let’s go somewhere nice and quiet – just the two of us – so we can talk all about setting up a book signing for you.’
‘Leave her alone,’ Sam told his sister, his voice sterner this time.
‘But she must!’ Bryony said to her brother before turning back to Callie. ‘You simply must! You can’t be a writer living near Castle Clare and not do a book signing. You know about our festival, don’t you?’
‘I’ve heard of it, yes,’ Callie said, wondering how on earth she was going to get out this pickle. ‘But I–’
‘We’ll arrange everything for you,’ Bryony went on in her bulldozing manner. ‘All you need to do is to turn up and be your brilliant self. We’ll have children and parents queuing right around Market Square to meet you, I’m sure of it. It’ll be the best event ever!’
Callie swallowed hard. Avoiding public events such as this had been one of the reasons why she’d chosen in Suffolk as her new home.
‘Bryony,’ her mother said in a warning tone. ‘Now, if everyone’s here, let’s eat.’
‘At last,’ Josh said, getting up from the sofa and clapping his hands together.
‘At last!’ Archie echoed, receiving a ruffle of his already tousled hair from his uncle.
‘This way,’ Sam said, escorting Callie into the dining room.
Callie gasped. ‘A real dining room!’ she said.
‘Of course,’ he said, smiling at her bemusement.
‘I mean – a real dining room that’s used as a dining room.’
He gave her an enquiring look.
‘My mother never used her dining room. At least not for family meals. It was always for best, she used to say.’
‘Like Christmas and birthdays?’ Sam asked.
‘No,’ Callie said. ‘For visitors. Only we never really had any.’
‘Sit next to me!’ Bryony said, interrupting her.
‘Callie is Sam’s guest,’ Eleanor said. ‘She wouldn’t get a chance to eat a single mouthful if she sat next to you.’
Bryony looked much put out by this and Callie was ushered to a chair in between Sam and Eleanor.
Sitting down, she admired the beauty of the table with its pretty plates, silver cutlery and glassware. Three small glass vases filled with colourful dahlias graced the middle of the table and beautiful linen napkins lay beside each place setting. It was all wonderfully elegant, but there was an informality about it too because of the happy faces around the table. This was not the sort of stuffy family gathering which would make a stranger feel ill at ease; it was just a regular Sunday lunch and Callie was looking forward to it immensely.
‘This is a lovely surprise,’ she told Eleanor who was sitting to her right.
‘And for us too,’ Eleanor said as Frank made a start carving the roast and everyone else passed dishes of potatoes, parsnips, carrots, cabbage and peas up and down the length of the table. ‘Do you have family close by?’ Eleanor asked.
‘No,’ Callie said. ‘They live in Oxfordshire.’
‘What do they think of your new home?’ Frank asked her.
‘They’ve not seen it yet,’ Callie confessed.
‘How long have you been there?’ Polly asked.
‘Since September.’
There was a stunned silence around the table.
‘Don’t worry,’ Callie said, ‘that’s normal. They never saw either of my homes in London either.’
‘Why not?’ Bryony asked.
‘Bryony – that’s none of our business,’ Eleanor said.
‘No, it’s okay,’ Callie said. ‘It’s just–’ she paused. What exactly was she going to say? How could she explain to this large, happy family that her own was so small and antisocial? She’d been faced with that situation many times in the past whenever people asked her what she was doing for Christmas and she’d have to try and explain that she didn’t really have a home to go to because she was never invited. ‘They – erm – they’re not really–’
‘Callie,’ Sam interrupted, laying a hand on hers, ‘don’t be bullied by my family. They’re horribly nosy.’
‘Yes, everyone,’ Frank said from the head of the table. ‘Respect the fact that we have a guest today and pipe down a bit.’ He said this with an indulgent smile at his tribe.
‘It’s okay,’ Callie said. ‘I don’t mind – really – but there’s not much to tell, that’s all. My family is small. There’s just me, in fact. And my parents...’ she faltered again, ‘they – they don’t see me much.’
Bryony frowned and exchanged a puzzled look with Polly, whilst Josh’s eyebrows rose and Grandpa Joe looked deeply concerned.
‘They don’t see you much?’ Grandpa Joe barked from the far end of the table.
‘That’s right,’ Callie said.
‘What did she say?’ Grandma Nell asked her husband.
‘She said she doesn’t see her family much,’ Grandpa Joe said.
‘That’s nice, dear,’ Nell said, and there was a chorus of light chuckles from around the table. Even Callie managed a little smile.
‘I envy you all,’ she said. ‘I really do. I can’t think of any families that get along together let alone see each other every week. You’re really lucky.’
‘That’s sweet of you,’ Eleanor said.
‘I can’t imagine us all not seeing each other,’ Bryony said from across the table. ‘It’s weird enough when Lara’s away. But there’s always a good group of us here each week.’
Callie nodded, secretly wondering if Sam’s ex-wife, Emma, had been a part of the Sunday gatherings and what they thought of her absence now. Did they talk about such things? They seemed a fairly open bunch. Then something else occurred to her: Polly had a son but no partner. What was the story there, she wondered? And had Bry
ony and Josh ever been involved with anyone? It was all so fascinating and something she’d missed out on being an only child. What would it be like to have brothers and sisters, she thought? And to be an auntie too?
‘Have you heard from Lara?’ Polly asked her mother.
Eleanor took a sip of wine and nodded. ‘She’s struggling with an essay on Hamlet.’
‘Ah, the Dane!’ Grandpa Joe said dramatically. “O, that this too too sullied flesh would melt, thaw and resolve itself into a dew.”’
‘That’s disgusting!’ Bryony said.
Archie giggled.
‘That’s the Bard,’ Grandpa Joe said, and then he began again, holding his knife aloft, ‘“Frailty, thy name is woman!”’
‘Grandpa, really!’ Polly cried as Archie dropped a forkful of peas into his lap as he giggled again.
Grandpa Joe sighed. ‘Ah, I should have treaded the boards!’
‘What boards, Grandpa?’ Archie asked.
‘The theatre, my boy!’
‘You really wanted to be an actor?’ Josh asked.
Grandpa Joe chewed thoughtfully on a roast parsnip. ‘At one time, acting was my whole life. I lived and breathed it, playing all the great roles.’
‘Really?’ Josh said.
‘So what happened?’ Bryony asked.
‘I left school and got a proper job.’
‘Oh, Grandpa!’ Bryony said with a laugh. ‘You only acted in school?’
He gave a little chuckle.
‘I don’t know about that,’ Frank said from the other side of the table. ‘He’s certainly been acting up ever since.’
Grandpa Joe shook his head. ‘Underappreciated,’ he said. ‘There is nothing worse than being underappreciated by one’s own family.’
‘I still appreciate you,’ Grandma Nell said, giving his hand a little squeeze, ‘even after all these years.’
‘Good grief!’ Josh complained. ‘Not whilst we’re eating!’
Everybody laughed.
The lunch continued with much banter. Callie was so enjoying it all, hearing all the stories from each of the Nightingales – stories about the books that had come into stock that week, the customers they’d met as well as everyday things like why Bryony’s radiators were still making really rude noises.
When Eleanor was absolutely sure that nobody could manage yet another roast potato, Polly and Josh got up from the table to clear the plates away.
The Book Lovers Page 18
