Lee suppressed a sigh of annoyance herself. Did this woman think she was stupid? ‘Well, the thing is, I think someone else found the book first, and then they put it in my bike basket.’
‘Paying it forward, you mean? Well, that’s good to hear. It’s very much in line with the ethos behind the campaign. Treating each other with kindness. Sam’s very—’
‘No, no. I think there might have been more to it than that.’
‘I don’t think so. Someone obviously found it, read it and then they left it for you to have afterwards.’
‘No, you really don’t understand.’ Lee dropped her head into her free hand, massaging her forehead. This headache was a kicker. ‘There was a message in it. Written over one of the pages.’
‘. . . What sort of message?’
‘I’m afraid I can’t say. But I really do need to find the person who found it first.’
She heard the woman sigh, out of patience. It would be one of the more bizarre telephone calls she’d have taken this week. ‘I’m sorry, Ms Van Alstyne, but I’m afraid we can’t help you. The success of the campaign rests on the very notion of anonymity—’
‘I understand that, but this really is important. I’m not intending to ask them on a date or something. This person needs my help.’ There was a long pause and, as Lee replayed her own words over in her head, she knew they sounded mad. She sounded mad.
‘Even if we knew who had found the book – which we do not – we could not hand out their identity or details to you; that would be a personal data breach. I’m sure you understand.’
‘I do. But if you could just give me the place where it was left—’
‘I’m sorry, but there’s really nothing further I can do. Goodbye.’
And before Lee could get another word out, she had hung up. Lee stared at the phone in disbelief. ‘Bitch!’
Chapter Twelve
The queue was snaking back towards the door. Lee twisted round and tried to count the number of people behind them. Twenty-five, thirty maybe? There had been that number in front of them when they’d arrived. She had tried getting to the front of the line with Jasper ‘for just one quick question’, but the store security guard had sent them packing and they were having to wait with everyone else. The crowds were monstrous. Tonight was Pakjesavond, or present-giving evening, and the Dutch equivalent of Christmas Eve. All the shops would be closing by lunchtime and people were on their final bursts of last-minute shopping; book-buying was seemingly a big part of that.
Jasper was sitting on the floor, cross-legged, by her feet, reading a picture book. Lee clutched her own book more tightly in her hands. The queue was moving quickly at least and they gained another few inches, Jasper bum-shuffling on the floor without looking up.
She dipped to the side, looking up the queue again. There were a lot of women standing in line, she noticed, and more than a few times the words ‘handsome’ and ‘gorgeous’ had drifted to her ear. She could see the desk, hear the excited voices of the people at the front as they got what they had come for. But would she?
‘Mama, what’s that?’ Jasper asked her in Dutch.
She looked down at the angelic face peering up at her. He was pointing to an illustration in his dinosaur book. ‘A diplodocus, darling,’ she replied in English.
‘Dip-lo-do-cus,’ he repeated in his little voice.
Her eyes grazed the store for the hundredth time as she waited, but she somehow wasn’t tiring of it. It had been decorated as a wooded wonderland – a smattering of faux trees with improbably dense, over-arching canopies, spreading and touching tips just below the ceiling. It had been sprayed with a crispy frosting of sparkling snow from cans, and felted woodland creatures were dotted through the branches, peering out of knot holes, carrying through to intermittent nearby shelves. A small family of roe deer, standing on a white, glittering snowy carpet, was positioned by the children’s corner, and every time Jasper ran over to get another book, he stopped to stroke them, talking to them as if they were real.
They shuffled forward another few inches again, the voices at the front becoming gradually more distinct. The cash desks had been enveloped by some sort of plaster grotto and covered with fairy lights, and all the shop staff were dressed as elves. It was cheesy, she