Chapter Four
C HLOE DECIDED TO buy a couple of croissants from a little independent café she had spotted the other day, the Brew House.
It looked to be partly a patisserie and partly a café, and she found herself inhaling deeply as the bell jangled above her head and a smiling red-headed woman told her she’d be with her in a minute.
The woman did a double take. ‘Oh my God. Chloe? Is that you?’
Chloe was confused for a second. But then it came to her. Hannah, her friend from school, was working at this café. They both squealed like teenagers and Hannah ran to her, wrapping her arms around Chloe. Chloe squeezed her back, a bit embarrassed but pleased.
‘It’s so great to see you!’ Hannah gushed. ‘How long has it been?’
Since Chloe didn’t much use social media, only her sad fake Instagram where she occasionally stalked Gwen, Chloe and Hannah hadn’t really stayed in touch over the years.
That was something she regretted now, and Chloe felt a pang of guilt that she hadn’t made an effort to reconnect with anyone after moving back to Wellbridge.
Since then, most of her time had been spent either in the library or at home, with the occasional supermarket trip.
‘It’s been about seven years, I think,’ said Chloe. ‘How are you?’
‘Give me just a sec.’ Hannah scurried back behind the counter, breathless and pink-cheeked. An elderly lady was waiting for her order, though she didn’t look like she minded the hold-up. ‘I am so sorry. Thank you for waiting. What can I get for you?’
Chloe’s mind spun. Hannah. They had hardly talked since Chloe had moved away from Wellbridge.
Hannah had stayed here while Chloe had gone off to university after .
. . well, after everything. Their daily chats had become the occasional message, then naturally petered out as they had both moved on.
A quick look at her phone confirmed to Chloe that it had been five years since they’d spoken at all, their last message being ‘Happy New Year’ all those years ago. She had to fix that.
Chloe couldn’t deny the charm of a small, family-owned business like this.
The till was decorated with countryside-esque ornaments.
A gnome grinned up at her beside a stone squirrel with a chipped tail.
The piece on the far end was a mouse sipping a cup of tea atop a pile of books.
Chloe could almost imagine its little nose twitching.
The elderly woman ordered her drink, and then it was Chloe’s turn. Hannah gave another excited squeal, muffled behind her hands. ‘I didn’t know you were visiting!’
‘I know, I’m sorry. I’m rubbish at staying in touch.
’ Chloe glanced behind her when the bell above the door jangled and a man walked inside.
She couldn’t stay and chat or she’d hold up the line.
She was almost late for her shift anyway.
‘Three lattes to go, please. And three of those chocolate croissants.’ It was still wild to her that the girl she’d had sleepovers with was working at a café now. She looked older but the same, somehow.
‘Three lattes and three croissants, got it,’ said Hannah, professional now. ‘Would you like any syrups today? Hazelnut? Caramel?’ She grinned. ‘Twenty pence extra for one shot.’
‘I’m allergic to nuts,’ Chloe reminded her. ‘There’s none in the croissants, right?’
‘No nuts in those,’ Hannah confirmed. ‘For syrup, we have caramel and vanilla.’
Chloe grinned at Hannah’s forwardness. ‘Oh, go on, then. Caramel in one.’
When Hannah handed her the drinks, Chloe said, ‘Let’s catch up at a less busy time, okay? I’ll message you.’
‘I can’t wait.’
Chloe wasn’t staying in Wellbridge for very long, a couple of months at the most, but there was no harm in catching up with her childhood friend.
Her steps had a spring in them as she headed for the library.
She admittedly hadn’t spared much thought for the people she had gone to school with; it all felt like such a long time ago.
She had assumed they had moved on and moved to different cities, like she had.
Not everybody, though. She would have to message Hannah when she got the chance.
She shouldered the library door open five minutes later, her hands full. Eric, a young A-Level student who worked there part-time, hurried to open it the rest of the way for her.
‘There you go, Chloe,’ he said eagerly.
‘Thanks, Eric.’ Chloe was a bit breathless, holding the bag of pastries in one hand and the coffees in the other. She planned to drink hers in the break room; she wouldn’t dare risk damaging the books with a clumsily handled beverage.
‘No problem.’ Eric returned her smile with a friendly one of his own. He was a skinny boy, and his big brown eyes and floppy hair reminded Chloe of an excitable puppy. Sometimes she forgot he was already eighteen.
There were still a few minutes left before her shift began, so Chloe sipped her caramel latte in the break room.
Hannah had been right to recommend it; it was terrific.
Clementine the cat was there, staring at her as though she had let slip a terrible swear word.
She didn’t know if he was really regarding her with disdain or if he had resting-grumpy-face syndrome.
‘I’m allowed to drink coffee in here. Good morning to you too, fluffy.
’ Chloe made to pet the cat, but he slinked past her and into the reception area with a haughty flick of his tail.
A bad mood today, then. Chloe chuckled at the cat’s indecisiveness.
He certainly hadn’t minded her touching him when she’d saved him from the cardboard box.
When the clock struck ten, Chloe got started with her tasks for the day. Mrs Cook had arrived and was looking at her computer, an exasperated expression on her face.
‘Look at this silly contraption,’ she said. ‘Do you young ones know how to use this?’
‘It’s a computer, Mrs Cook,’ piped up Eric.
‘I know what it is, love. I just don’t know how to use it. I thought it would make it easier to store library records, but I just don’t know where to begin. Chloe, dear, could you . . .?’
Chloe and Eric got together in front of the screen. ‘I suppose it will be easier in the long run to have all the records together,’ she called after the elderly woman, who was carrying some books to the non-fiction section on the ground floor. ‘It just might take some time to archive everything.’
‘How long? I might be dead before I understand how it all works,’ she called over her shoulder, and chuckled.
Chloe swallowed, not laughing.
‘I think she means to get the books into a database so it’s easier to search for them in the future,’ said Eric.
‘Then when customers ask, we don’t have to check the big paper files back there, like we usually do.
’ He jerked his head towards the filing cabinets that lived behind the reception desk.
‘We might have to start inputting them manually.’
‘Why not just copy from the files?’ Chloe jerked her head towards the disorganised piles of files on the back shelf.
‘They’re older than I am, and probably haven’t been updated in a while.’ Eric winced. ‘We’ll have to do it book by book, so the records are up to date.’
‘That sounds fun,’ said Chloe blandly, and Eric gave a high-pitched laugh.
‘We can take turns,’ he said.
It would be a long job but would definitely be easier in the long run. Besides, busy days meant quicker shifts and a hectic mind.
They started with non-fiction, Eric typing up the name, author, year of publication and other information that might help them locate the book in the future.
The program he was using sorted the authors into alphabetical order automatically, which was helpful.
After twenty minutes they switched places, Chloe typing up the information on the keyboard while Eric fetched piles of books from the shelves, returning them when she was done.
Chloe couldn’t help noticing that Eric tried to carry far many more books than he could handle, often red-faced and panting by the time he placed them on the desk beside her.
At one point, he carried so many he couldn’t see where he was going, and she heard a mighty crash and the thunderous cascade of books thudding on the carpet, followed by a whispered curse.
She tried to rearrange her face into what she hoped was neutral obliviousness by the time Eric came back with more books, his cheeks maroon.
When it was Chloe’s turn to get books, she made her way through the empty children’s area in the ground floor’s west wing.
She turned a corner then stopped, spotting a man in an armchair in the corner, an open book in his lap.
His fair hair shone almost gold in the light, and his broad shoulders took up most of the armchair, like he’d had to squeeze himself into it.
She didn’t remember seeing him come in. Maybe it was when she had been to the bathroom, or before she had even arrived this morning.
She stood half hidden in the shadows, not sure whether to greet him or ask if he needed anything.
He already had a book. He was the man who had been short with her the other day when she had recommended him a fantasy book.
He looked strangely lonely, sitting there by himself, though he looked to be so absorbed in the book he hadn’t noticed her presence.
This was certainly a good place to sit and read, without the distractions of home or the noise of a café.
Chloe examined the man’s profile, noting the straight nose, the serious furrow of his eyebrows.
There was something charming about seeing a man read.
He dog-eared the page, glancing up. Chloe backed into the next aisle, feeling strangely nervous, like she was doing something wrong.
She shook herself and went to get more books, being as quiet as she could until she had rejoined Eric.
When she was safely back in the brighter lobby, she concealed a shudder.
She had caught the man dog-earing a page. How horrific.
On her way back to Eric, something caught her eye on a nearby shelf. It was a piece of paper, torn from a notebook. Chloe picked it up, wondering if it was some rubbish someone had left behind. She unfolded it and stared.
Inked in the centre of the page was a little black heart.
Chloe’s brow furrowed, a small chuckle escaping her. She scrunched up the paper and tossed it into the lobby’s waste-paper basket.
She threw herself into the tedious work of inputting the books with Eric, listening to him chatter about a video game he was playing.
‘Did you know some games have stories that are just as good as books?’ Eric asked, somehow able to talk and put the book information in at the same time. ‘And games can even come from books, too. Like The Witcher .’
‘I remember playing one on the PlayStation 2 years ago. It made me cry,’ said Chloe, and Eric gasped in shock. ‘The story was just so good. One of the characters died and I was inconsolable. My sister said I was being stupid.’
‘You play games?’ he asked. He looked so surprised that Chloe giggled.
‘I even know who Super Mario is. Crazy, I know.’
‘Sorry, just most girls fall asleep or walk away when I mention games. Hey, maybe we can play one together sometime.’
‘Uh, yeah. Maybe.’ Chloe changed the subject, asking Eric to pass her a huge encyclopaedia he had brought over earlier.
It was so heavy she had to hold it in both hands.
They worked through the morning, and paused only to help two customers check out books.
Chloe was pleased the younger of the two, a girl who looked around eighteen, joining the library in order to check out some romances.
‘That one is really good,’ said Chloe, nodding to the one on the top of the pile.
‘Yeah, I’ve seen it on TikTok a lot,’ said the girl. ‘Thanks.’
‘Let’s do some of the fiction books next, okay?
’ said Chloe when it was nearing lunchtime.
Her bottom was numb from sitting on the reception stool, and going up and down the staircase to the fiction section would be good exercise.
Eric nodded and took her place, frowning at the screen. ‘We’re making good progress.’
It would take months to get down the information of every single book, and poor Eric would be battling through the archives long after Chloe had moved away, though she didn’t say so.
The least she could do was help him out with as much as she could before she left.
She ascended the spiral staircase to the fiction section above, inhaling the scent of paper and ink that she loved so much.
Clementine purred at her from behind his favourite curtain, and this time, he let her run a hand down his soft back.
‘What to start with?’ Chloe wondered aloud, wandering through the rows of shelves.
She supposed she could start with horror, since there were fewer of those.
There were so many books in the fantasy and romance sections that it looked intimidating.
She was about to pass the shelf when she spotted a faint glow emanating from one of the bookcases, stopping her in her tracks.
Her heart thumped. There it was again, the same glow she had seen that evening after her disastrous date. It couldn’t be what she thought, could it?
A warm wind rustled behind her, like a gentle breath from a steam room. She glanced behind her. Clementine was watching her, his eyes reflecting the lamps.
‘Did you feel that?’ she asked, as though expecting the cat to respond. She rolled her shoulders and passed the shelf, ignoring what may or may not have been a beckoning in the shelves.
She thought she felt something in the air shift, almost like the library itself was sighing in disappointment. The thought made her feel daft, and she chuckled to herself as she grabbed some books for Eric. All of them were, determinedly, not glowing.
She left the bookshelves behind, deciding she was too busy to be looking at glowing books again.