Crazy in Love at the Lonely Hearts Bookshop

Copyright

Published by HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd

1 London Bridge Street

London, SE1 9GF

www.harpercollins.co.uk

First published in Great Britain by HarperCollinsPublishers 2018

Copyright © Annie Darling 2018

Cover design © HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd 2018

Cover illustration © Carrie May

Annie Darling asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

A catalogue copy of this book is available from the British Library.

This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.

Source ISBN: 9780008275648

Ebook Edition © February 2018 ISBN: 9780008275655

Version: 2018-01-31

Dedication

Dedicated to Mr Mackenzie,

the smooshiest cat in all the world.

Contents

Cover

Title Page

Copyright

Dedication

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Acknowledgements

Keep Reading …

About the Author

Also by Annie Darling

About the Publisher

‘She was a wild, wicked slip of a girl.’

It was morning. Apparently. Weak shafts of sunlight were doing their best to penetrate the gloom of the little flat above the Happy Ever After bookshop.

Nina O’Kelly cursed the sun streaming feebly in through her bedroom windows then cursed herself for not closing the curtains the night before. In fact, she was amazed that she was in her own bed, because she had absolutely no memory of how she’d got home.

She wasn’t hungover. Not exactly. Fragile, sleep deprived, and the sound of her flatmate, Verity, walking from her bedroom to the kitchen sounded like an elephant had been let loose, though generally Verity was quite light-footed.

With an unhappy whimper Nina turned over. Another ten minutes couldn’t hurt. Maybe fifteen. Perhaps she should open one eye very slowly just to check the time, or perhaps she should keep both eyes closed and just doze ever so lightly …

There was a gentle knock on the door. ‘Nina? It’s nine o’clock. It takes you an hour to do your make-up alone,’ Verity cooed softly. ‘I’m coming in. I want feet on the floor.’

Nina wasn’t fooled by the gentle cooing; Verity was not a woman to be messed with. One morning when it had been much later than this and Nina was still in bed, Verity had shocked her awake with a glass of water. It had played havoc with Nina’s hair.

Though every muscle in her body protested, Nina levered herself to a sitting position and swung her legs round so that when Verity opened the door, all ten of Nina’s toes, adorned with a nail polish in a jaunty aqua green, were touching the floor.

The inevitably pained expression on Verity’s face was a blur to Nina who still couldn’t fully open her eyes. ‘I’m up,’ she grunted, taking the mug of coffee that Verity handed her and opening her mouth so Verity could shove a piece of toast in it, because she was actually the best flatmate ever.

Then, because she was a skilled multi-tasker, Nina drank her coffee while having a shower and not getting her hair wet. Her hair was currently baby pink and arranged in Marilyn Monroe-style pin-curled waves. Each Monday and Friday lunchtime Nina went to the old-fashioned nana hairdresser around the corner to have a shampoo and set under a hood drier that was twice as old as she was. Very little could wither her hair between visits. All it needed was a little teasing at the roots and a generous spritz of Elnett, and Nina was good to go.

Well, not quite good to go. She hadn’t taken her make-up off before she’d collapsed into her bed and because time was marching on – Verity had already gone downstairs to the shop to start her working day, though technically they weren’t on the clock until ten and it was only nine fifty-seven – Nina decided to use yesterday’s make-up as her base.

A generous dollop of foundation, primer and ungodly amounts of concealer, then she got to work with liquid eyeliner, mascara and then more liquid eyeliner. A sweep of blusher and then several coats of deep-red lipstick, and Nina had done all she could do with her face. Not that it was a bad face. Nina had all the regular features – eyes, nose, mouth, chin arranged in the usual order – and now she had transformed herself into a vision of retro glamour.

There was just time to don her hated grey work T-shirt with ‘Happy Ever After’ scrawled across her chest in a pink cursive script. It was very hard to dress around the T-shirt: frocks were a no-no, Nina rarely did jeans, but she wriggled into a tight pencil skirt, slipped on her day heels and by the time she tripped down the stairs into the shop, she was only …

‘Fifteen minutes late!’ complained Posy, the owner of Happy Ever After, in an unnecessarily loud voice. ‘You live above the shop. You have a ten-second commute, so how come you’re still fifteen minutes late?’

‘Obviously, my body clock runs fifteen minutes later than yours,’ Nina pointed out. ‘I can’t be responsible for my biological needs. Talking of which … coffee!’ It was a plaintive moan. ‘Be a love and nip to the tearooms and bring me back the largest mug of coffee possible.’

‘I am a love but I’m also your boss,’ Posy said sternly, but she never could pull off stern. Her softly pretty face just wasn’t made that way. ‘Just the one sugar?’

‘Better make it two,’ Nina decided. ‘As it is, I wouldn’t expect too much from me until after lunch, Pose.’

Posy shook her head in despair as she headed through the arch that led to a series of anterooms, which in turn led to the tearooms from where the heavenly scent of freshly brewed coffee and cakes just out of the oven wafted through the shop.

And what a lovely shop it was. Happy Ever After was the only bookshop in Britain, maybe even the world, dedicated to books about love. ‘Your one-stop shop for all your romantic fiction needs’ as it said on the bookmarks Nina tucked into every book she sold.

Even before she lived above the premises, Happy Ever After had always felt like home to Nina, and from where she was perched on a stool behind the counter, she surveyed her domain. In the centre of the main room were three sofas in varying stages of sagging decay arranged around a table heaped with books. There was a wall of new releases and bestsellers, the top shelves accessed by a rolling ladder, while the opposite wall had yet more books and a series of vintage display cabinets full of romantic fiction-related gifts, from mugs to cards, T-shirts and jewellery.