THE BOOK LOVER
Belinda stood behind the old wooden counter arranging the pile of second-hand books for the third time that morning. The single light bulb above the till spread shadows in the corners of the shop, and the smell of old paper and ancient dust hung in the air.
After 10 years in various job roles – including working as a nursery school assistant, silk-screening rock concert T-shirts and making chicken wraps at FatBoyz Food-to-Go – she was in heaven.
The first time she walked across the threshold of Cranwell’s Antiquarian Books, she decided she’d work there for nothing if the owner didn’t want to employ her. Luckily he did, and he didn’t appear worried when she told him the only thing she had ever sold before was fast food.
She’d expected him to be ancient and dusty like his books but, to her surprise, Oliver Cranwell wasn’t old at all.
Her job interview was short and to the point. ‘I can tell you’re a book lover,’ he said. that it’s in the right hands. You can start tomorrow. Call me Oliver.’
