The Pebblewick Chronicles - Chapter 12 - The following week
Monday After a week away from The Salty Page , I returned on Monday morning. "Away" may have been stretching the definition somewhat. I had spent most of my annual leave at home, scarcely ten minutes' walk from the bookshop. Yet I had successfully managed not to unlock the door, straighten a shelf, or concern myself with invoices. By my standards, that qualified as a holiday. The harbour greeted me exactly as I had left it. Fishing boats rocked lazily against their moorings. Gulls wheeled overhead, already engaged in their daily programme of loud disagreement. Near one of the benches, somebody had dropped half a sausage, and three gulls were conducting what appeared to be complex diplomatic negotiations regarding its ownership. None of the parties seemed willing to compromise. I continued along Harbour Street. The Salty Page stood exactly where it belonged. Its front windows still leaned ever so slightly towards the sea. Its sign still looked as though i...