Page 24 of The Secret Bookshop in Ireland

‘He can come with us,’ Ciara replied. ‘I have a feeling he has taken to you. He’s very sociable. A real people-person.’

‘I’d say he wouldn’t be much of a guard dog,’ Ronan suggested.

‘No, if anyone broke in, he’d wag his tail,’ Ciara said. ‘But his sheer size scares a lot of people. And his bark,’ she added.

‘Which is bigger than his bite,’ Ronan suggested with a smile.

‘Oh yes, he wouldn’t bite anyone except if he found them tasty,’ Ciara joked, returning his smile.

They went back to the shop accompanied by Brian. Ciara stopped for a moment at the door as she heard voices inside. ‘I wonder who Ma is talking to,’ she said and opened the door, finding her mother having a lively conversation with a white-haired man and a woman holding a small girl in her arms. They all turned around as Ciara and Ronan entered.

‘There you are,’ Maureen said, beaming at them. ‘I’m just getting to know the neighbours. This is Mr and Mrs Lincoln and their granddaughter Nancy.’

‘Hello, there, Nancy,’ Ciara said, smiling at the little girl, who was about two or three years old. She had dark hair in a ponytail and wore sunglasses perched on her little nose. ‘I love your sunglasses.’

Nancy took them off. ‘It’s not sunny in here.’ Then she squealed and tried to get down from her grandmother’s arms as Brian trotted into the shop. ‘Doggy! I want to pat him.’

‘He’s very big,’ her grandmother protested, holding Nancy tighter.

‘But really gentle,’ Ciara assured her. ‘He wouldn’t hurt a fly. He’s especially good with children. You can let Nancy pat him.’

‘Well, if you’re sure,’ Mrs Lincoln said and lowered Nancy to the floor. Then she watched nervously as Brian sniffed at the little girl and then sat down as if to make sure she wasn’t frightened.

Nancy put her arms around the dog and leaned her head against his chest. ‘He’s very cuddly,’ she said. ‘I love him.’

Mrs Lincoln laughed, looking relieved. She had a jovial face under curly grey hair and kind eyes behind glasses with bright blue frames. ‘How nice to see a dog with good manners.’ She turned her attention to Ciara and held out her hand. ‘I’m Mary Lincoln. So you’re the new owner of Martha’s bookshop? I’veheard you’ve come to shake us up and give this village a bit of life.’

Ciara shook hands and smiled. ‘Well, not quite. I’m just going to… Well, I don’t know. It has all been so overwhelming and confusing. We’re just cleaning it up and then I might put it on the market.’

‘That’s to be decided,’ Maureen cut in. ‘We might just use it as a space to rent out.’

Mrs Lincoln’s face fell. ‘Oh. That’s disappointing.’

‘Where do you live?’ Ciara asked. ‘It’s so nice for us to meet someone in the village. It was so quiet when we came.’

‘A lot of people who live here like to stay, well, private,’ Mr Lincoln cut in. ‘Some of them have what you’d call interesting pasts,’ he said with a wink in his wife’s direction. ‘Isn’t that so, Mary?’

‘That’s true,’ Mary Lincoln said. ‘But Liam and I are not very interesting, I’m happy to say.’

‘We’re positively dull by comparison to some,’ Mr Lincoln agreed. ‘We’ve lived here for a few years now and love the area and the peace.’

‘My husband retired a few years ago,’ Mrs Lincoln said. ‘And we found this old house down the street that needed a little work but now it’s perfect.’

‘Until something breaks down again,’ her husband interjected.

‘Oh, stop that glooming and dooming, Liam,’ Mrs Lincoln chided. ‘We’re fine and nothing is wrong at all.’

‘Today, anyway,’ Liam mumbled. Then he looked across the shop at Ronan, who had hung back during the conversation. ‘You haven’t introduced us to your boyfriend, Ciara.’

‘He’s not my boyfriend,’ Ciara protested as Ronan approached. ‘This is Ronan Burke and he’s the solicitor who handled Martha’s will.’

‘Hello,’ Ronan said shyly and shook hands with the couple. ‘Nice to meet you.’ Then he leaned down and took little Nancy’s hand. ‘How do you do, young lady?’

Nancy giggled. ‘I’m not a lady, silly, I’m Nancy.’

‘And my name is not silly, it’s Ronan,’ he countered. ‘How old are you?’

‘Free,’ Nancy lisped. ‘How old are you?’