Chapter Ten
The hour of silent reading went on for days. Grace’s bottom was numb by the time Annie’s alarm beeped to signal time was up.
‘That went quickly, didn’t it?’ said Annie, stretching her long arms above her head as if waking from a deep, satisfying sleep.
Everyone else mumbled their agreement and Grace nodded along, despite being surprised none of the men had grown beards in the interminable time they’d been sitting there.
It felt long enough for her to imagine her toenails having grown so extended they were now curling inside her still damp trainers.
‘We’re back at Books En Parade next time.’ Annie looked at Grace. ‘Okay if I get your number in case of any last-minute changes? There probably won’t be, but better safe than sorry.
‘Yes, of course.’ She couldn’t exactly say no in front of everyone, and she didn’t have a problem with Annie having her number, but the way Grace was feeling, there was zero way she was going to put herself through sixty-seven years of silent reading in one evening again.
Annie stacked the chairs near the door along with a friendly woman called Kelly who, from the conversation she overheard, was the owner of Beckenham Books.
They were talking about a new book festival Kelly had played a big part in setting up in Beckenham Place Park.
Frank would have loved that. It was so horribly unfair that she was here, and he wasn’t.
A familiar guilt churned her stomach. Frank embraced life.
He took it by the throat and squeezed all the joy he could from it.
Grace was more of an observer. Instead of living every moment to the full, like Frank, she’d allowed precious minutes to slip away as she simply looked on.
And now here she was, at an event he would have relished, wishing she was anywhere else.
He deserved to be living this life. The wrong person was taken too soon.
Those words looped in her head as she picked up her chair and placed it next to the others. Tracy, Jasmine and Lee lifted a stack of chairs each and headed out of the door and across the road.
‘Where are they going?’ said Grace.
‘Oh, they’re taking the chairs back to St George’s. We borrow them from the church for book club, then take them back at the end,’ said Annie, not looking up as she scrolled on her phone.
‘Very community-minded,’ said Grace, peering through the darkness to watch the three backs trudge into the grounds of the pretty church directly opposite, its pale stone lit by uplighters.
Keen to leave, Grace nervously approached Annie and said, ‘I’ll be on my way.
Thanks for this evening. All the best, then. ’
‘Just a sec, sorry,’ said Annie. ‘I’m just checking the bus times, then I’ll get your number.’
‘Where abouts do you live?’ Grace glanced out at the High Street. She wouldn’t want to get a bus home in the dark if she could be in a nice warm car.
Annie raised her gaze from her phone, the back light illuminating her face. ‘I’m in Chislehurst, on Park Road off the High Street.’
‘I can give you a lift.’
Annie paused, then shook her head. ‘It’s one way, and a pain to park. You don’t have to, don’t worry. I can get the bus, it’s fine, but thank you.’
‘It’s no bother.’ Grace knew the road with its pretty terrace of cottages. ‘It’s only a few minutes’ drive from me. There’s no point you getting the bus when I’m going that way anyway.’
Ten minutes later they were in the car. The crown of Annie’s head scratched against the roof fabric and Grace almost apologized for having such a small car, but stopped herself in case bringing attention to Annie’s height was rude.
‘I’d love one of these,’ said Annie, ‘but I’m not built for it, and the buses are regular, anyway. Me climbing in here probably looks like a scene from Gulliver’s Travels.’
‘Not at all,’ said Grace. ‘It’s a dinky car, though. My grandson has to scrunch himself up too.’
‘Ah, lovely Jude. How’s he getting on?’
Grace had forgotten the members of the book club would know Jude too.
She felt foolish for not considering that earlier, and more foolish still for never showing more interest in the people Frank spent time with when he was alive.
Annie had lost a cherished friend, and Grace pitied her for that.
Her own grief was so close to the surface she could imagine it seeping from her pores and coating her skin.
‘He’s doing well, enjoying his job at Scepter Media.
’ His recent diagnosis came into her mind, but she wasn’t about to disclose that to a new acquaintance.
‘He’s media obsessed. His latest hyper-focus is book to film adaptations.
’ She surprised herself by using the term hyper-focus.
She glanced at Annie to see if she noticed, then felt terrible about wanting to keep Jude’s ADHD a secret.
It wasn’t a shameful thing. She knew that, but couldn’t quite feel it yet.
‘I’d love to hear him talk about that,’ said Annie, her voice full of admiration. ‘What a fascinating subject.’
Pride bloomed in Grace’s chest. She wished he’d witnessed Annie’s reaction; his self-esteem could do with the boost. Because he was a late developer in school, he’d come to believe he was stupid.
Criticism penetrates far deeper than praise and sticks more firmly too.
The voices of the kids at school who’d bullied Jude for not being a fluent reader, and exasperated adults, herself included, had all played a part in creating his inner voice, and no amount of praise, or even a first-class honours degree, could easily change that.
She would tell him, though. Every little helped.
The lights from the High Street shimmered on Prickend Pond as they passed, and Grace indicated left into Park Road. A smattering of cars was stationed on the right. ‘Pull in anywhere here,’ said Annie. ‘Thanks so much for the lift. It’s very kind of you.’
‘My pleasure. Any time.’ Why had she said that? There wouldn’t be another time.
Annie pulled her tote bag onto her lap and took out her phone. ‘If I put your number in here, then I’ll call you, you’ll have my number too.’ She held her thumb over the screen, looking at Grace expectingly.
Grace gave the digits, wondering how to phrase what she needed to say next. When her phone rang in her bag in the foot well next to Annie’s feet, she jumped.
‘That’s only me,’ said Annie, laughing. She ended the call and reached for the door handle. ‘Thanks again, see you next time.’
‘Just a sec,’ said Grace. ‘I … well, I’m not certain I’ll be coming to book club again.
’ Annie’s smile fell and Grace had to look away before she continued.
‘It’s been lovely meeting you all. Truly.
And I thought it was Books En Parade I had an irrational dislike of and that was what put me off the most, but the silence …
that’s …’ She watched a black and white cat stalk across the road, its eyes reflecting the car’s headlights. ‘I don’t quite know how to explain.’
‘The quiet,’ said Annie, her tone soft. ‘It’s too much?’
‘I sometimes feel like I can’t bear it.’ Grace’s voice hitched and it was all she could do to stop the tears. ‘It’s like the silence opens the door for the grief. It fills the space, if you know what I mean?’
‘I understand.’ Annie sat back and breathed deeply.
‘I can’t imagine how hard this last year has been for you.
I’m lucky, my Jack is … he’s not been quite himself for …
sometimes it feels …’ She twisted the strap of her bag around her hand.
‘What I’m trying to say is, I sympathize.
I really do. Sometimes you can feel like you’re on your own, even when you’re not, can’t you? ’
Grace turned to Annie, but she kept her eyes forwards. In the streetlight, Grace could see pain etched in the fine lines at the corners of Annie’s eyes.
‘That’s why I love book club,’ said Annie.
‘Even though there’s only a few of us left, it still makes me feel less alone.
Novels do that for me too. When I read something that I recognize, even if it’s not the full story, it could be a line, you know, or a phrase that touches something inside me and it makes me feel seen and understood.
That takes some of the loneliness away, you know?
’ She smiled sadly. ‘But everyone’s different, aren’t they?
And if coming along makes you feel more alone, then it’s not the right thing for you.
Selfishly, I’m sorry. I would have liked to get to know you better.
But it’s been a real pleasure, Grace, and I hope to see you again sometime. ’
Grace wanted to ask about Jack but wasn’t sure she knew Annie well enough and didn’t want to pry.
But Annie’s words sparked something in her.
When she said books made her feel less alone, Grace recognized that feeling from when she’d been reading The List of Suspicious Things.
There were parts that resonated with her, added to which, it had given her hours of entertainment.
She realized she’d been transported away from her quiet room and into the world of the novel.
When she was lost in the book, she hadn’t felt alone for the first time since she lost Frank.
‘Maybe I’m being too hasty,’ she found herself saying.
Annie’s eyes brightened. ‘Maybe. How about this? I’ll suggest that next time we have the discussion first, and then, when it comes to the silent reading part, you can stay or go, depending on how you feel?’
‘I don’t want everyone to have to shift things about because of me.’ The thought of being treated as a special case because of her association with Frank was mortifying.
‘We won’t be. We’re a flexible group, and when a member needs something, we’re happy to go with that.’
Annie had called her a member. Was she? Being a member of something did feel appealing. ‘Are you sure?’
‘Surer than a sure thing on sure day,’ said Annie decisively.
‘If it means we have the pleasure of your company, then I think I speak for the group when I say it’ll be no bother at all.
Thanks for the lift. I’ll see you in two weeks’ time.
’ And with that, she extracted herself from the car and closed the door.