Love Letters Read Online Free Page A

was inevitable. She sighed. ‘We’d better get upstairs. It’ll be time to open soon.’
    ‘No hurry.’ Grant was rummaging in a tin of shortbread left over from the staff party. ‘I need breakfast and everyone’s at the sales, buying tat or taking back the tat they were given for Christmas.’ He frowned. ‘I see your mother is still giving you “slacks” for Christmas, and you’re still taking them back?’
    Laura glanced down at her new black trousers. ‘My mother can’t see why I’d rather wear clothes that need ironing instead of nice, easy-care polypropylene or some such. She doesn’t understand about static and how it’s just not cool to create sparks when you walk quickly.’
    Grant laughed. ‘It is in some circles, sweetie. At least mine has stopped giving me diamond-pattern golfing sweaters.’ He gave her sweater a disparaging look.
    ‘I know black is dull but clothes get filthy working here.’ She gave a wry laugh. ‘Maybe I’ll have a nice nylon overall for my next job.’
    ‘You and me both, ducky! Now are you going to open up, or aren’t you?’
    Laura went upstairs to the shop. Henry came through the door just as she was turning round the sign.
    ‘Good morning, sweetheart,’ he said, as he always did. ‘How did you get on last night? Eleanora Huckleby’s a piece of work, isn’t she?’
    ‘She certainly is. She—’
    ‘Wants you to run a literary festival, I know.’ He took off his hat and threw it deftly to a row of pegs where it obligingly landed. ‘She phoned me. First thing.’
    Laura was used to the hat trick but this was surprising. Henry wasn’t a ‘first thing’ sort of person. It was, he claimed, why he wanted to run a bookshop. She felt instantly guilty. ‘Oh goodness! I can’t believe that!’
    Henry shook his head, smiling down at her. ‘She’s not a top literary agent because of her lack of tenacity, that’s for sure. So if you need time off for this meeting, you can have it. But if you do decide to go for it, and actually help set up the literary festival, I insist on providing the books.’
    He was being so generous Laura couldn’t help feeling a twinge of conscience. ‘But supposing it isn’t until after the shop is closed?’
    ‘I’ll still have my contacts, and I think a lit. fest. would be splendid fun!’
    Was everyone determined to get her involved whether she agreed to or not? They certainly seemed to be conspiring to erase any possible objections she might have. She supposed she ought to feel grateful they believed in her so much. Now all she had to get through was her monthly visit to her parents.
    ‘So how did it go?’ asked Grant as he came through Laura’s door barely an hour after she’d got back from what had proved to be the usual frustrating visit home. At least she had the thought of her night out with Grant to keep her going. He’d made a duty visit that day too, to his aunt’s.
    ‘Oh, OK, you know. Quiet.’
    ‘You didn’t tell them about the bookshop closing then?’
    ‘No. I thought I’d wait until I’d got something else lined up. You know what they’re like. My father might insist that I retrain as an accountant or a book-keeper. Did you tell your aunt?’
    ‘Yup, but as she’s not my mother I felt she could take it. She offered me some money if I wanted it.’
    Laura smiled. Grant always went through agonies of guilty conscience when his aunt offered him money although he did sometimes accept it. ‘So did you say yes this time?’
    ‘Certainly not! I don’t need it at the moment. If I’m out of work for ages I might say yes then.’ He tutted. ‘Don’t look at me like that! I’m her only relation and she’s loaded. She likes giving me money!’
    Chuckling, Laura drew him into her flat and shut the door behind him. ‘I know she does and I’m not the one feeling you shouldn’t take her handouts. She’s got more money than she knows what to do with and you’re her only nephew. I don’t think you should