Chapters (51)
- Cover
- Praise for A Season for Second Chances
- Also by Jenny Bayliss
- Dedication
- One
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Five
- Six
- Seven
- Eight
- Nine
- Ten
- Eleven
- Twelve
- Thirteen
- Fourteen
- Fifteen
- Sixteen
- Seventeen
- Eighteen
- Nineteen
- Twenty
- Twenty-one
- Twenty-two
- Twenty-three
- Twenty-four
- Twenty-five
- Twenty-six
- Twenty-seven
- Twenty-eight
- Twenty-nine
- Thirty
- Thirty-one
- Thirty-two
- Thirty-three
- Thirty-four
- Thirty-five
- Thirty-six
- Thirty-seven
- Thirty-eight
- Thirty-nine
- Forty
- Forty-one
- Forty-two
- Epilogue
- Acknowledgments
- Discussion Guide
- About the Author
- What’s next onyour reading list?
“But would a child prodigy’s first word be ‘meow’?” Ameerah asked.
Andrew gave Ameerah the kind of bone-shriveling look he usually reserved for drunk men on the tube. Nory’s phone tinged with a message.
GREAT NEWS! YOUR PARCEL HAS BEEN SUCCESFULLY DELIVERED.
Well, she thought. It’s in the lap of the gods now. If she had expected to feel some sense of relief, she’d been mistaken.
Charles and Jenna wandered into Serendipitous Seconds on Sunday afternoon just as a family of German tourists were leaving, having purchased a rare and rightly expensive 1882 edition of Grimm’s Fairy Tales. Several other customers still milled about the shop. Nory directed a fair-haired woman in a green blazer toward a vintage copy of P. G. Wodehouse’s Blandings.
“Oh my god!” said the woman, her hand flying to her mouth. “My dad had a copy just like this, and I never could find it after he died. How did you know?”
“Just a little bookseller’s intuition.” She smiled.
The woman held the book to her chest and continued to browse. She would be buying a lot more books this afternoon.
Andrew was having a well-earned day off, though from the tone of his messages, not necessarily a relaxed one. Andrew, Seb, Matilda, and Glenda were all invited to Andrew’s parents’ house for Sunday lunch. From what Nory could gather, Nina was behaving like the Queen, and Glenda’s comment on every room of the house was “So tiny, how British!”
“I didn’t expect you to be so busy on a Sunday,” said Jenna, air-kissing Nory before seeming to remember that she was an actual friend and pulling her into a hug.
“Oh, well, you know, last Sunday before Christmas and all that. What brings you to this neck of the woods?”
“We’ve just been for lunch around the corner, and I was saying to Jen that I’ve never been to your shop before. So here we are,” Charles said.
“What do you think?” Nory asked, smiling as she looked around at the piles of books and fairy lights. All the random armchairs were occupied by readers, one or two looking as though they were settled in for the afternoon. A girl of about nine years old was perched on the old milking stool reading a vintage copy of Little Grey Rabbit’s Christmas by Alison Uttley while her dad browsed the shelves.
“It’s sweet,” said Charles. “I like it, it has a good feeling about it.”
“Thank you,” said Nory, imagining this must be what Andrew felt like when people compliment him on Matilda. “How is married life treating you?”
“It’s wonderful!” Jenna gushed. “I love being a Mrs.”
“Though not enough to take my name,” added Charles.
“I’m an actress, my name is my calling card. You could take my name if you’re that worried—you don’t need yours for publicity.”