The right book in the hands of the right person at exactly the right moment can change their life forever. At least, that’s what Alfie has always believed. It’s hard not to when you spend six days a week in a bookstore and have witnessed more times than you can count the magic of someone entering your shop as one person and leaving with the possibility of becoming another held in paper between their palms.

But Alfie isn’t thinking about changing lives when he pulls up outside Book Lane on his battered red bicycle early that January morning. He’s thinking about the fact that his glasses are misted with rain, his trousers are drenched, and there are three enormous and very soggy cardboard boxes waiting for him on the doorstep.

“Bloody books,” he mumbles under his breath as he digs about in the pockets of his bottle-green duffle coat for his keys.

“Bloody door.” The key sticks as it always does before finally creaking open, letting a gust of cold wind and the disheveled bookseller into the shop.

Alfie drags the deliveries out of the rain and scoops up the post, flicking through the assortment of bills and dumping them on his desk with a sigh. Closing the shop in the quiet period between Christmas and the New Year had felt like a good idea at the time. But now Alfie has only an hour to go until opening and a whole carpet of pine needles to sweep, several boxes of books to unpack, and a window display to change, swapping festive romances and comforting cookbooks for healthy recipe books and self-​­help manuals.