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He watches me for a moment, then satisfied I’m not going to keel over, he mumbles, “Good. Good.” He turns away and walks towards the counter.

I work the morning away, and around noon Peggy comes in. Mr. Hastings has already gone home for lunch, so we have the store to ourselves for a few minutes after Mrs. Lombard leaves with her hands full of sundries and bagged sweets. As she closes the door behind her, I wonder again what has become of her husband and her marriage. I remind myself to ask Charlie if Mr. Lombard was charged with theft, then push the thought away just as quickly. I need not add to the gossip.

I turn to Peggy. “The story that I slipped seems to be sticking.”

“Shocking, isn’t it? Herbert must not have told the chief or Sergeant Boyle.”

“Herbert?” I chortle. “Oh my. For a second I couldn’t figure out who you meant. I’d forgotten his real name.”

Peggy smirks. “Try to remember it. At least once.”

Warmth crawls up my neck.

She flaps a hand at me. “But teasing aside, I need to talk to you. Rather I need to tell you something.”

I perch on the stool behind the counter. “This sounds serious.”

“It is, and I should have told you I was thinking about this last week, but you were hurt and I didn’t want to upset or concern you.” Peggy worries her fingers, and I see that one usually perfectly varnished nail has been ripped clean off.

“What is it?”

“I’ve come to say goodbye.” Peggy looks anywhere but at me, and I feel all that warmth from a moment ago cool instantly.

She reaches out to grab my arm. “Hey, sit, sit properly. You’ve gone all pale.”

I drop back onto the stool. “Where are you going?”

“Maybe not forever, so it’s not a lifetime goodbye, but I need to go home, Gemma. This whole thing with Ursula”—she whispers her name—“has made me think hard about what I left behind and how I left. I just walked out, Gemma. On my family.”

“You were heartbroken.”

“Yes, but I treated them badly too. I need to apologize, make things right, all that mature stuff. What if something happens and I miss my chance to do that? To see my mum again?” She lets out a soft sigh, and I know she wants it to come out light and airy, but it falls flat.

I swipe at my eyes as I walk around the counter and pull Peggy into a hug. “Will you come back?”

“No—” Her voice falters. “I’m not sure. I don’t know what kind of reception I’ll get, so I best not make any promises.”

I step back, keeping my hands on her arms. “It’ll be a wonderful surprise for them.”

She tries to laugh this time rather than sigh, but it catches in her throat. We’re both on the edge of tears. She swipes a finger under one eye. “I hope so, or I’ll be back tomorrow after Mum boots me out the door.”

“Can’t you wait a day or two? This feels sudden. We could have one last dinner—”

“I really can’t. As I said, I should’ve told you last week. I’ve already said my goodbyes to everyone else.” She glances out the store’s plate glass window. “The bus will be here soon. I’m taking it to Oxford and taking the train, a couple trains, on from there.”

“Peggy—”

“We’ll keep in touch.” She cuts me off with a tight hug. “You’re a great friend, Gemma. I’ve loved our adventures.”

She pushes me back, gives me a light kiss on my cheek, and lets me go. She rushes away, only turning back once she reaches the door. “I promise I’ll write.”

That’s when I notice a small suitcase sitting just inside the door. She picks it up, and without another word or wave back, she’s gone.

The rest of the day drags. I help customers here and there, I stock inventory, I dust shelves, and I review my book selection and place a new order in the afternoon. But I’m not here—not really. I vacillate between wondering which hurts more: my head or my heart. Both ache something fierce by the time I lock the store and trudge up the steps to my bedsit.

It’s only five o’clock, but it feels like midnight. The deepest, darkest part of the night and I should be asleep. Because awake, I only think about the friend I’ve lost.

A loud knock at the downstairs door sends me skipping down the steps. Charlie! I throw open the door, then almost shut it just as rapidly. And I would have succeeded if Ursula hadn’t shoved her booted foot into the gap.