The others, bolder, swam.

Konstantin loved the cold water and took Isla with him, deeper and deeper, and when he thought no one was looking, finally kissed her flushed face full-on, and laughed at her shock and joy as she wrapped herself around him.

Flora and Joel held hands, and Flora jumped up and down screaming while he endured the freezing water with complete and utter calmness, and she burst out laughing and said, “I am sure this is a metaphor for something about the two of us,” and he laughed too and grabbed her close, and they ran back out together, heading for Douglas, who was laughing and giggling in the blanketed lap of his doting grandfather, to swing him up between them.

Saif and Lorna swam out farther and farther and moved just close enough so their toes could entwine in the water, for it was not deep, and the sand that joins the world flowed over their numb toes. They couldn’t feel each other but they were still together: because sometimes even when we cannot feel each other we are still together.

And the town laughed as one and ran back in, glowing and jolly, feeling refreshed and cleansed and alive, under the watchful eye of the great Mure Angel, bright in the winter sun, lighting the way, keeping them safe.

لذلك سوف أميل دائما قلبي

أقرب إلى روحك

كما استطيع.

So I will always lean my heart

As close to your soul

As I can.

—Ḥāfeẓ, “The Woman I Love”

Eg stansa vel uviss, utan svar,

Som framfor eit ukjend land,

Om ikkje min kjærleik til deg var

For meg som ei lykt i mi hand.

I paused uncertainly without answer,

Finding myself set against an unknown land,

To see whether or not my love for you,

Was a lantern in my hand.

—Halldis Moren Vesaas, “Lyset”

Tha caoin-shlios mo leannain mar eal’ air a’ chuan,

Nas gile nan fhaoileann air aodann nan stuadh,

Mar shneachd air na beannaibh, mar chanach nam bruach,

‘S i furasta, suairc na giùlan.

My love is a swan on the ocean,

Brighter than gulls on the waves,

Like snow on the mountains, like wild cotton,

It is easy, and I shout aloud with joy.

—Dòmhnall MacLeòid, “An Cluinn Thu Leannain, An Cluinn Thu?”

Acknowledgments

T hanks: Kjersti Herland Jonson, my Norwegian publisher, who answered all my Norwegian questions so helpfully and kindly; Layla Al Ammar, Tom Holland, and M. Lynx Qualey for their help with Nizar Qabbani; Nicole Moore at Lynne Rienner Publishers, and Guri Vesaas.

Huge thanks to: Jo Unwin, Lucy Malagoni, Milly Reilly, Donna Greaves, Joanna Kramer, Charlie King, David Shelley, Stephanie Melrose, Gemma Shelley, and all at Little, Brown; Deborah Schneider, Rachel Kahan, Jennifer Hart, and all at William Morrow; Alexander Cochran, Jake Smith-Bosanquet, and Kate Burton.

About the Author

JENNY COLGAN is the New York Times bestselling author of numerous novels, including The Bookshop on the Corner, Little Beach Street Bakery , and Christmas at the Cupcake Café . Jenny, her husband, and their three children live in an actual castle in Scotland.