Brew Books

Chapter 53

Sylvie finds us sitting between two shelves, leafing through books. She makes a pot of tea, and sits on the floor with us.

'I was telling her about George,' Charlotte says, and Sylvie makes a face at me.

'George is a dick,' Sylvie says. 'Men are all bad news.'

'Mmm,' Charlotte agrees, and I smile.

'It's more fun to be single, anyway,' Sylvie says. 'We're all too young to worry about boys.'

'Men aren't all bad news,' comes a new voice from the front of the shop, and the three of us watch Harper walk in.

'True,' Sylvie says. 'But you definitely are.'

Harper's broad grin splits his face. His hair is up in a messy bun, and he's wearing a hoodie, with his hands in the front pocket. He reaches the three of us at the back of the bookshop, but takes a moment to peruse the Fantasy section behind me.

'The Golden Compass,' Harper says, taking Philip Pullman's novel from its place on the shelf. 'I read this when I was thirteen. My parents relationship was screwed and I went through a bit of a rebellious stage. Fell in with some rough kids. Spent a lot of time sitting in parks in south London drinking cheap alcohol and smoking weed. Then Mum left this book for me in my room and I just got obsessed. I couldn't stop reading after that.'

'Tracey Beaker books got me obsessed with reading,' Sylvie says. 'And one book about these sisters called Dolphin and Star.'

'I remember those,' I say. 'I loved them. But it was always Harry Potter for me. Harry, and Lord of the Rings,' I say, and I gesture to the novel at my feet.

Harper drops down beside me. 'I read The Hobbit,' he says. 'But I never got to these.'

'You should read it.' I press the novel into his hands. 'It's my favourite novel,' I say, and I place emphasis on the words.

I see a look of recognition pass across Harper's face. 'This is mine,' he says, and he hands me The Golden Compass. I've already read it, but I know there are new books by Pullman in the series, so I think I'll reread the series from the start.

'I had a beautiful edition of Peter Pan,' Charlotte says. 'With a map of Neverland. I would sit and study it, and redraw it, and draw scenes from it. The mermaids, or the Indians. Or the little Lost Boys.'

I grab Lord of the Rings from Harper's grip and flick through it, suddenly remembering a poem within its pages. I find it, and read aloud.

"All that is gold does not glitter,

Not all those who wander are lost."

The door of the store opens again, and we look up to see Will, Ed, and Kitty. All three of them look pretty rough, and Ed merely raises a hand in greeting before going straight to the coffee machine.

'Coffees?' he calls out.

'I have tea,' Sylvie says. 'Kitty, do you want some?'

'Yes, please,' Kitty says, and she gets herself a teacup. I watch her, feeling the weight of our argument pressing on me. Feeling anxious that she'll try to start it again now, in front of everyone. But when we meet each other's gaze she just nods.

'I'll have a coffee,' Harper says.

'Me, too, please,' I say.

'Et moi,' Charlotte calls.

The familiar sound of the coffee beans grinding and the milk frothing seems to liven us up. Will, Ed and Kitty bring the coffees over, and join us on the floor. The seven of us sit in a circle like that, each leaning against bookshelves, clutching a warm drink.

'We were discussing our favourite books from childhood,' Charlotte says, and I appreciate her diplomatic conversation starter. I wasn't ready to discuss the arguments from upstairs.

'Oh, Harry Potter,' Kitty says, and then she glances at me, looking slightly apologetic. 'We were obsessed with it. I was Luna, Jane was always Hermione. Our school did a trip to Edinburgh, remember?'

I remember. It was one of the few times during school that I had abandoned my group of friends and sought out Kitty. I was usually embarrassed to be seen with her, but for that particular trip we'd wanted to see the spots around Edinburgh that had influenced our shared favourite author. We'd put everything behind us to seek out Tom Riddle's grave and the The Elephant House.

'Our parents had these vintage copies of the Famous Five books,' Ed says slowly. 'We were obsessed with them. There was this one character, George. Her real name was Georgina but she cut off her hair and asked everyone to call her Master George rather than Miss Georgina.'

'I remember those,' Will says.

'Matt liked George,' Ed says. 'I just liked the adventures they went on.'

'Favourite childhood novel, then, Will?' Ed asks, after a moment's silence.

'Oh, I don't know, probably Narnia or something,' Will says. 'But I didn't really get obsessed with reading until I read F. Scott Fitzgerald in school.'

I notice that Will's eyes look a little puffy, and I wonder if he read Matt's memoir. He's at least wearing trousers now, and a plain black shirt, with no print on it.

'We could be the Famous Five,' Kitty says. 'Or the Sweet Seven.'

'Sexy Seven,' Harper says.

'Sad Seven,' Will says.

'We're not the seven anything,' Ed says. 'We're the Brew Crew.'

Sylvie groans. 'Stop trying to make Brew Crew happen, Ed. It's not gonna happen.'

'Brews, books, booze, babes and baristas,' Harper says.

'No babes,' Sylvie says.

'I'm a babe,' Charlotte says.

'You are, doll,' Kitty says.

I'm amazed that after all the harsh words, the drunken kisses, and the fights, the seven of us are able to sit in sombre companionship here in the empty bookshop, but it works. And I realise it's because we live together, and even with screaming matches and tears, we can come back.

It's true, I know, because this is how Kitty and I were as children. One second we'd be screaming at each other over the rules of a game or who could eat the last of my mother's cupcakes, but within five minutes we would have forgotten all of our grief, and be back to giggling about everything.

After one round of coffee and tea, I make the hot chocolate that I've perfected in my time working here, and we grab all the cushions from the sofas at the front of the store and pile them up around us, and the conversation turns to bad customer stories, then discussing a New Yorker article everyone but Ed has read, until he gets grumpy, and then a tangent on the politics of Brexit before Kitty shuts that up because she's sick of Harper's ranting, and steers the conversation to the Man Booker shortlist.

After a while we're all starving, so we venture outside, only to find the day is warmer and sunnier than we predicted. I pull off my jumper and enjoy the feeling of sunshine on my limbs as we walk twenty minutes to Hammersmith, where there's a pub serving Sunday roasts on the Thames.

• Author's Note •

Hey, just popping in to say thank you for reading!

Don't forget to vote!

And see you next chapter!

elle xx