Chapters (45)

‘Where were we with this one?’ he asked her, flicking through the yellowing pages of the latest book he had picked up in the charity shop for her.

He believed that books should be loved. They should look loved and lived in. He loved folded down corners, and broken spines. He loved notes scrawled in the margins. Signs that a book had been pored over, read, devoured.

‘I think,’ Libby said, using her small hands to turn the pages herself, ‘we were just about here…’ She pointed to a page with a fresh fold at the top.

‘I think you might just be right, Libby,’ her grandad laughed, ‘right at the point where Mr and Mrs Twit are about to get their comeuppance!’

Libby felt a swell of excitement. She couldn’t wait to find out what happened next. She couldn’t wait to see the awful Twits with their awful ways come undone.

‘When we’re finished,’ she said, ‘can you tell me one of your stories? From when you were wee?’ Libby may well have loved the stories in these books, but she loved her grandad’s stories just as much.

‘Actually,’ he said, ‘I was thinking we could go to the bookshop and see if we can pick up a new book or two?’

She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed his stubbly cheek. ‘Can we really?’ she asked.

‘Of course,’ he said. ‘Can you imagine, Libby, if we owned a bookshop? How amazing would that be? All those books.’

‘I’d never ever leave it, ever,’ she said.

‘No, I don’t think I would either.’ Her grandad smiled. ‘Maybe one day we will. But first let’s find out what happens to the Twits.’

Libby nodded, lay her head against her grandad’s chest and watched his finger move along under the words on the page as he read to her. And the story came to life before her eyes.

About the Author

Freya Kennedy lives in Derry, Northern Ireland, with her husband, two children, two cats and a mad dog called Izzy. She worked as a journalist for eighteen years before deciding to write full time. When not writing, she can be found reading, hanging out with her nieces and nephews, cleaning up after her children (a lot) and telling her dog that she loves her.

She has met Michael Buble and even kissed him. It was one of her best ever moments.

She believes in happy ever afters.

Freya Kennedy is a pen name for Claire Allan, who also writes psychological thrillers.

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