Читать книгу The Boy in the Bookshop: A Short Story - Katey Lovell - Страница 7

He wasn’t my usual type. He didn’t have the tattoos and piercings which were guaranteed to make my heart beat that little bit faster for a start. He looked like a ‘nice boy’. In fact, I’d go as far as saying he was borderline geeky.

He wouldn’t stand out in a crowd, but for some inexplicable reason, I couldn’t take my eyes off him.

I worked at Beautiful Books, a used bookstore in the town centre, every Saturday. It was the perfect job for me as I absolutely adore books; always have, ever since my Mum read me Charlie and the Chocolate Factory when I was six years old. And used books were extra special, their cracked spines and dog-eared pages signs that they’d been loved, the musty scent clinging to their pages, the smell of times gone by.

There’s nothing quite like picking up a book and wondering where it had first been bought – who by, for what purpose. Every so often I’d come across one that was inscribed, Carol Arthur, Class 5B