Chapter Nineteen Clara
Chapter Nineteen CLARA
So this is the magical, mystical, legendary library.
I’m not sure I get the big deal. It’s kinda… blah? Grey carpet, beige walls. And just loooooads of books. Rows and rows of books. I mean, I do understand that it’s a library, but ugh, get a better hobby.
I take in the flaking paintwork and smile. I could totally upcycle this place.
I feel a little pulse of guilt at that thought.
Not just because this is Jemma’s sanctuary, but also because my upcycling plans have sort of stalled.
Stalled in the hallway, in fact. The chest of drawers we wrestled home a few weeks ago – Amanda’s ex’s chest of drawers – ended up being too big to fit up the stairs.
So right now, it’s sitting in the entrance hallway, just inside the front door, blocking everyone’s way.
Not that there’s space for it in any of the bedrooms anyway, because that’s where I’ve started storing my other WIP furniture.
And the cupboards are all paint cans, floor to ceiling.
Salma and Harry say they don’t mind but it’s pretty obvious the whole thing is driving Jemma mad.
It had started to feel like we were getting somewhere, with us living together, but this has definitely been a step back for our sisterly relationship.
I approach a weird-looking woman behind the counter.
She’s wearing a Christmas jumper with a unicorn on the front that’s dancing in the snow.
Are unicorns festive? Seems like they get to shine the rest of the year, and it should be the reindeers’ turn to get some attention.
Who even invented the unicorn anyway? I’ve never understood the obsession.
It’s literally a horse with a massive, vicious-looking spike driven into its head.
It’s basically a glittery zombie horse. Except if it was a zombie horse, a spike through its head would kill it.
Anyway.
‘Hiya!’ I greet the strangely dressed woman, and she starts, like no one ever comes in here. ‘Er, I’m looking for my sister – do you know her? Jemma Poyntz?’
She stares at me, wide-eyed. ‘ You’re Jemma’s sister?’ she asks and I wonder what she means by that. Am I so repulsive that she can’t imagine how we could be blood related?
No, it can’t be that. I’m hot.
The woman beams. ‘I’m Anita! I’ve known your sister since she was quite young.’
A good-looking but moody bloke joins us, glaring at me.
‘Your sister takes the piss a bit actually,’ he growls.
He’s wearing a black T-shirt that is too tight for him and I clock some serious muscles under there.
He continues crossly, ‘She’s always in here taking up space that others might need. This library is for everyone, y’know?’
I didn’t know. I kinda thought libraries were a closed club, exclusively for members. Like a really, really lame Soho House.
‘Oh shush, Mack!’ Anita scolds, turning back to me. ‘Sorry about him! He’s a grumpy sod.’
He glowers at her and I suddenly get Zayn Malik vibes. Like, back when Zayn was leaving One Direction and was peak sulky all the time. ‘I’m not grumpy,’ he growls grumpily. ‘I’m just… ugh. You don’t get it.’ He throws up his hands and stomps off.
Anita giggles. ‘Not grumpy at all!’ she trills. ‘Maybe just a little cantankerous? Crabby? Petulant? Mopey? Testy? Downcast? Definitely a bit melancholy and huffy!’
‘Riiiiiight,’ I nod, like I know what any of those words mean. What is she, a thesaurus? Actually, I guess that’s part of the job description in this place.
I clear my throat. ‘Anyway, is Jemma about? I think she’s working in here today?’
‘Most days!’ she pronounces, gesturing across the room to an area of desks, where Jemma sits with her laptop.
‘So anyway, are you a member of—’ Anita is saying, but she’s lost me, because oh my GOD, is that…
? Jemma is sitting across from a gorgeous, rugged man I don’t know and they’re chatting animatedly.
It must be the guy leaving Jemma notes in her book!
E! They’ve clearly outed themselves to one another at last!
And now they’re finally having a real life chat!
If so, Jesus, well done, Jemma! He’s a stunner; all huge, rugged shoulders and thick, long hair. I would hit that in a second.
I march over, throwing a ‘cheers’ over my shoulder at the desk lady with the Christmas zombie horse jumper.
‘Jemma!’ I call out as I approach her and the bloke. I’m beaming as I turn to him. ‘Well, hellooo! And what’s your name?’
‘Er, Clara, we’re in the middle of—’ Jemma begins.
‘Oh I bet you are, Jim-Jems!’ I interrupt her gleefully, offering my hand to the hot stranger. He looks a bit flummoxed but takes it.
‘I’m Aarav,’ he says in a low voice. ‘And you are?’
‘I’m Clara,’ I frown. ‘I thought your name started with an E?’ He looks even more perplexed so I turn to Jemma.
‘This is a very exciting development in the note passing! I can’t believe you’ve finally met in real life!
It was about time – it was all starting to get a bit weird, to be honest. All that caterpillar crap!
’ I don’t stop for breath as I place a hand on his arm.
‘God, I’m so glad you turned out to be a hottie.
I was imagining all kinds of maniacs with two heads. But you’re gorgeous .’
‘Er, no—’ Jemma begins and I wave her off.
‘Don’t try and deny it, you minx! I’m so glad you two finally met! It’s all been a bit silly, hasn’t it? Exchanging secret notes like you’re teenagers at school! And now you can go on a real date!’ I am crowing with delight, until Jemma abruptly stands up.
‘Clara!’ she says sharply and her voice is ice. ‘This is Aarav, whose book I’m working on. This is a professional meeting.’
‘Oh!’ My eyes flit between them, as the panic sets in. That’s right, Aarav is the name of her mountaineer bloke. The one whose memoir she’s helping write. Well, god, how was I supposed to remember that?!
Ah shit, I’m in trouble. Aarav looks faintly amused, but I’ve never seen Jemma angrier.
She swallows. ‘Sorry about this, Aarav, just give me a second, won’t you?’
She grabs me roughly by the arm and frogmarches me across the room to the audiobook aisle. I’m distracted for a moment, wondering who still owns a CD player.
‘God, sorry, Jim-Jems,’ I begin. ‘I was out for lunch with Mum and Angela and we passed this way and the atmosphere was, like, totally odd. I think they were having an argument, and Angela seemed like she didn’t even want me there, so I thought I’d come in here and hang out with you.
And then I saw you with that hot guy and I thought—’
‘STOP CALLING ME JIM-JEMS!’ she yells, and several people glance over. For a second of stunned silence, she looks mortified, then the fury returns. ‘I hate that nickname, Clara.’
She does? I thought it was cute. I’ve always called her Jim-Jems.
‘You just made me look like a fucking idiot there!’ she hisses, waving back towards Aarav.
‘This is my work ! He has to take me seriously, and you come in, ranting about bloody notes and dates, all the while feeling him up!’ She pants, and I stare down at the ground, horrified.
‘You’re just so thoughtless !’ she half-shouts.
‘And so selfish! No wonder Angela was in a mood with you – why are you crashing their lunch dates anyway? You’re probably ruining their engagement, getting in the way!
You should be working , but oh no, an office job just isn’t good enough for you, is it?
The world owes you something big and exciting, doesn’t it?
Everyone and everything has to revolve around you .
’ Her eyes are wild. ‘God, Clara, you just take over everything ! You’ve taken over my house and my life.
And my fucking hallway with that stupid chest of drawers.
And now you’re here! In my library! Trying to sabotage my work as well!
’ She is red with anger, and I am red with emotion.
She takes a deep breath. ‘It’s just not working, us living together.
’ After a second she adds a resentful, ‘I’m sorry, you’ll have to move out. ’
I swallow hard, trying not to cry. I knew this was coming.
I knew she’d want to get rid of me as soon as possible.
I’m a fuck-up, and she’s right about all of it.
We’ve tried to make this work. I’ve tried.
I know she doesn’t think I have tried, but I really have. We’re just incompatible; we don’t work.
My heart is pounding and I try to steady my breathing. I’m a mess and I’ve infected Jemma’s orderly life with it. Maybe it’ll be better when we can get a bit of distance from one another.
After a long, cold minute, I shrug carelessly.
‘OK, that’s fine. I can stay at Mum’s. I’ll have the sofa for a bit.
I don’t think it’ll be for long. It’s pretty clearly not going to work out between her and Angela.
I think it’s just been a bit of companionship for them both anyway.
I’ll have my old bedroom back in no time. ’
We are interrupted by a mad woman appearing at the end of the aisle.
I think for a moment we will be told off for being too loud, but I realize in that second that it’s Mum.
Oh fuck, did she hear what I said about her and Angela?
The last thing I need is to fall out with her as well.
She’s standing there breathing hard in her big coat; the outside cold hangs around her.
I fight an urge to launch into her arms and weep, begging for a cuddle, like I did when I was little.
‘Girls!’ she beams, throwing her arms out for us.
‘You’ll never guess – we’ve set a date! Angela and I are getting married in a month!
’ She gathers us into a tight embrace, pulling Jemma and me closer than either of us would like to be in this moment.
I regard my sister over Mum’s shoulder and her eyes are full of the same kind of fear as mine.
They’re really getting married. In a month . Which means I have nowhere else to go.
We’re stuck with each other.