Brew Books 2

Chapter 4

The train into London is painful, and then I have to insert myself into a sweaty central line tube, packed with tourists who don't understand basic concepts like where to stand on the escalators. I am in a putrid mood by the time I unlock the door beside the Brew Books store and march upstairs to my flat.

Sylvie is lying upside down on the sofa, a mess of dark curls cascading from her head and brushing the floor. Charlotte is sitting on the floor of the living room, with prints of photos spread out in front of her, and her laptop in the middle of the pile. Will is curled up in an armchair, reading. Kitty and Ed are both in the kitchen. Kitty's whistling, while Ed is stirring a big pot of something that smells delicious. And Harper is sitting on the stairs up to his attic bedroom, his legs outstretched in front of him, and his little blue notebook on one knee.

It's such a relief to see the six of them, all crammed into this one flat because they want to be close to each other, even when they're doing their own thing. There's no pretence, no fake smiles or air kisses; just them.

'She's home!' Kitty says when she sees me, and she pulls me into a hug. 'God, you look awful. Ralph Thomas really has that effect on you?'

'Oh, this wasn't just Ralph Thomas,' I say, referring to my - well, both mine and Kitty's - father. 'I saw Rach, Kasey and Abby. Oh, and Drew and Joseph. You wouldn't believe the weekend I've just had.'

'Sounds like you need a cup of tea, doll,' Kitty says. 'Ed, kettle?'

Ed fills up the kettle, while Kitty starts preparing tea by measuring out spoonfuls of loose leaf tea into a pot. Why she doesn't just use teabags, I'll probably never understand.

'Okay, so what have I missed in the last two days?' I ask, collapsing on the sofa besides Sylvie.

'Mrs Dubose,' Will says, without looking up from his book.

'Huh?'

'Oh, you haven't met Mrs Dubose yet,' Harper says. He slams his blue notebook shut and bounds down the steps, towards us. He shuffles some of Charlotte's photos aside and grabs the pouffe to sit on. His grin takes over his face, his eyes shine, and his wild brown hair is a mess. 'She's my new favourite customer.'

'She's not actually called Mrs Dubose,' Ed says drily. I glance up at him, but he's focused on the cooking.

'She's just this little old lady,' Harper says, and Will even puts down his book.

'She's lovely, Jane, just you wait,' Will says.

'It sounds like you two are in love,' I say to Harper and Will. 'Does this Mrs Dubose have anything to do with Jem and Scout Finch?'

Will laughs. 'I'm glad you got the reference. Yes! She's old and she comes and sits in the armchair by the window some mornings, and yesterday she sat there all day, and fell asleep. It was so sweet!'

'I thought she might have died,' Sylvie says.

'Sylvie!'

'What? She's old.'

'Well, I woke her up,' Harper says. 'And she says, she's reading Flaubert in the original French and it's putting her to sleep.'

Charlotte tuts.

'So Harper says he'll read it to her!' Will says. 'As if listening to Harper's voice droning on isn't going to put her to sleep.'

'You don't even speak French,' I say, turning to Harper.

Harper grins. 'Ah, that's where you're wrong.'

'No, Jane, you're right,' Charlotte says, and I laugh.

'I know some French!' Harper says. 'And I'm taking French at uni this year. So when I learn more I'll be able to read to Mrs Dubose.'

'Just like Jem,' I say.

'Let's hope she hasn't dropped dead by then,' Kitty says. 'Tea, anyone?'

I stand up to help Kitty distribute teacups. Charlotte picks up the prints she had scattered on the floor and sorts them into a pile. Sylvie slips off the sofa and rearranges herself so she's sitting upright, and we sit and drink tea, while Ed continues to cook.

'So, now we're all here,' Will says. 'I want to tell you all something.'

'Ooh, this is good tea, Kitty. Is this from that new shop?' Sylvie interrupts Will.

'Yes!' Kitty says with delight. 'I'm glad you like it. We should get some for the store.'

'We cannot afford fancy loose leaf tea,' Ed says, without turning away from his cooking. 'Our customers drink PG Tips, or nothing.'

'But we buy nice coffee,' Kitty laments.

'Because we're a coffee shop,' Ed says, finally turning around, and brandishing a wooden spoon covered in red sauce.

'No, because you're stuck up about coffee,' Kitty says.

'Guys! I have something important to tell you all,' Will repeats.

'Coffee is important,' Ed grumbles.

'I know, Ed. Believe me, I believe just as strongly as you do about the importance of coffee, but shall we just shut up about it for one second?' Will says. 'I have been in contact with a lovely editor, named Felix Shipman.'

'What for?' Sylvie asks, perking up. 'What press house?'

'Other Voices House,' Will says.

'So why has an editor been talking to you?'

'Well maybe if you listened,' Will scoffs. 'Felix Shipman was the editor in contact with Matt.'

Ed whips around, and again he's brandishing the saucy wooden spoon. 'Why are you talking to the editor, Will?'

'He didn't know Matt had died,' Will says quietly. 'He says he was trying to contact Matt for months to work on a contract and he got nothing. He was really upset when he found out. But I said I wanted to help get Matt's memoir published. Now more than ever, it needs to be out there, in the world.'

'That's not your decision to make,' Ed says.

'Yeah, well, exactly,' Will says. 'Turns out, since Matt has... passed... then they can't publish his memoir.'

Ed's shoulders loosen and he almost turns back to the stovetop, before Will says, 'Unless we get permission from Matt's beneficiary.'

'But Matt didn't exactly leave a legal will,' Kitty says, and I hear pain in her voice.

'No, he didn't. So his beneficiary is his parents. Philip and Anne Lyndon-Reed,' Will says. His gaze darts towards Ed, and then away.

'They will say no,' Ed says.

'Well, we'll see,' Will says. 'I sent them an email.'

'An email?' Ed cries, outraged.

'Oh, calm down. Have you ever thought they might actually want to see their son's work in print?'

'They do not want their son's work in print,' Ed yells. 'They want to pretend their son never existed! For fuck's sake, Will. I can't believe you would do this.'

Ed drops the wooden spoon back into the saucepan. 'I need to go.' And with that, he storms out of the kitchen, and the flat.

• Author's Note •

Have you read To Kill a Mockingbird? Did you like it?

See you next chapter!

xx Elle