Chapter Eight
C HLOE KNEW SHE couldn’t spend her life only at the library, her house, and the streets in between.
Things took time, yes, but she had been here for weeks already.
She couldn’t continue to avoid going around town and reliving her memories.
There were good memories there, too. Sidestepping them only made it worse.
Mrs Cook had made an appointment with the headteacher of the local primary school for the following Tuesday. Today was Sunday, and since the library was closed, it was everyone’s day off. Chloe couldn’t help procrastinating leaving the house, and instead thoroughly cleaned every room.
That was a task in itself. Her old bedroom didn’t look much different from when she had moved out at nineteen, though she had taken down the posters of rock bands she had thought were awesome back then.
There was the room where her sister Gwen had slept, which Chloe didn’t touch besides doing some dusting.
She didn’t like to think about her sister, either.
Chloe set her jaw and closed Gwen’s bedroom door.
Her parents’ bedroom . . . she had come here shortly after the funeral, when aunts and uncles and distant relatives had helped her put away her parents’ things.
Photo albums and ornaments and books were packed into boxes and put away in the attic, and Chloe didn’t have the heart to take them out and look at them.
As a result, the room was pretty much empty.
A bedside table stood either side of the bed, which was now just a mattress.
There was an en-suite bathroom with a large bath.
If Chloe hadn’t missed them so much, if wandering through this room to clean the dust and check for cobwebs hadn’t made her want to break down and sob, she might have gotten some use out of this room.
Maybe one day. Moving in here had already been a huge step.
Releasing a breath after scrubbing the kitchen, Chloe decided there was little point in putting it off further. Her stomach rumbled and there was nothing to eat in the house except cereal. She had to go grocery shopping before the small-town supermarket closed at five.
She climbed into her car and switched on the radio to the classical channel. Another thing Gwen would tease her for when they were younger.
‘You’re like an old woman,’ she said once when Gwen had caught her listening to Mozart while she studied for her A-Level exams. ‘What’s next? Darjeeling tea and crocheting?’
‘Leave me alone, Gwen.’
‘Can I use your vanity?’ Gwen had already barged in without waiting for an answer. She had a mirror of her own in her room, but she’d always loved Chloe’s three-piece vanity. ‘I want to get my eyeliner right.’
‘No,’ Chloe snapped. She was trying to memorise history dates.
‘Don’t be so selfish.’ Gwen tried to slide in next to Chloe, which wasn’t easy as there was only one chair and it couldn’t hold them both. She jostled Chloe’s arm, and her pen streaked across the paper, leaving a smear of ink on her revision notes.
‘Get out of my room!’ Chloe roared, shoving her off her seat. ‘You’re such a pain.’
Gwen had thrown some lipstick at her and then slammed the door.
The memory faded. Chloe switched off the radio.
Her little car hummed through the town, past stone buildings with chimneys and a church and cafés with signs hanging above the doors.
She passed Hannah’s little indie café and made up her mind to go there next and ask about catering the event at the library.
She drove until she found her old primary school.
It looked the same but . . . smaller, somehow.
She didn’t have any bad memories here in particular, not really. Chloe had grown up quite normally, doing best at English and spending rainy breaktimes reading Jacqueline Wilson and Enid Blyton books. She hadn’t been bullied, nor had she particularly struggled in school.
No, it wasn’t until later that things had happened to make her want to leave Wellbridge and never come back.
Going to university had opened many doors for her, had allowed her to move to the city and get lost in the chaos of it all.
She had settled in the noise and rush, so different from her quiet hometown in the Peak District, making new friends and experiencing new things.
When she was a student, she hadn’t ever wanted to come back.
She still didn’t want to stay. What? Was she supposed to stay in her parents’ house, trying to suppress the memories and the grief? No, as soon as she’d saved some money, she would be out of here.
On Tuesday, she had to visit Wellbridge Primary School for the meeting with the headteacher.
For now, though, she just wanted to head home and order a pizza. She’d probably regret not getting groceries today, but right now she just couldn’t be bothered.
When Tuesday came, it was a clear, crisp day, and Chloe decided to walk to her meeting with the headteacher.
The school was less than a mile away from the library, and Mrs Cook said she could return home straight after the meeting.
Her scarf was wrapped around her neck and her hands were deep in her pockets.
In her bag she’d brought several children’s books from the library, should she need them.
The meeting was at one o’clock, and she was early, so she stepped into the Brew House, hoping Hannah would be working today.
‘Hi, Chloe!’ said Hannah, returning Chloe’s wave. At midday on a Tuesday, the place was nearly empty. ‘Are you eating in or taking out?’
She decided to eat in, and took off her scarf as she slid into a booth. This place was adorable. Chloe could imagine settling here with a book.
‘Is this place new?’ she asked Hannah when she brought her the menu. ‘I don’t remember it.’
‘It’s been here for three years,’ said Hannah, looking proud. ‘My uncle runs it.’
‘It’s really cute.’ As well as bookshops and libraries, Chloe held a certain fondness for coffee shops. And the white brick walls and potted plants and ornaments of this little place ticked the boxes for the cosy aesthetic she liked so much.
They chatted and she ordered a drink and a cake and pulled out the book she was reading.
This was the only physical book she owned currently and she made a mental note to take up Mrs Cook on her offer to borrow more from the library.
She checked it wasn’t glowing before opening it, allowing herself a small smile and wondering whether her new-found powers would work on all books, or just on those in the library.
She had not encountered another book character for a while, and though it was a relief not to experience it again, there was a part of her that was wistful.
She imagined summoning the villain from this book into this little café.
No, best to make sure that wouldn’t happen.
Hannah brought her a slice of chocolate fudge cake and her latte, glancing around before sliding into the chair opposite her.
‘What a gorgeous cover,’ Hannah said. ‘I’d love to read more often.
I just don’t have the time. No nuts in the cake, I checked,’ she confirmed, and Chloe gave a grateful nod.
She took a sip of her latte. It was creamy and utterly delicious.
She found that people said they didn’t have time to read when they would rather be doing other things, like watching TV or browsing social media.
There was nothing wrong with doing that, of course, but Chloe thought it was more about how you chose to spend your days.
Still, Hannah was a mother. That probably took up a lot of her time.
‘You should see the library. More books than I could ever hope to read,’ said Chloe. ‘It sometimes makes me sad that I won’t be able to read them all, even if I read one every week. It’s amazing. You should bring Lily.’
The tinkling bell above the door announced more customers, and Chloe busied herself eating her cake, which was delicious, and reading her book.
She would leave fifteen minutes before her meeting with the headteacher at the school.
Despite her nerves, or perhaps because of them, she had left the library far too early.
‘This cake is phenomenal, Hannah,’ said Chloe, setting down her fork when they had a quiet moment. ‘Do you make them yourself? Do you remember when you came to my house for a sleepover and we tried to make a cake, but we forgot the flour?’
They giggled. ‘And we wondered why it was just sloppy brown goo? My baking skills have improved since then, I swear.’ Hannah gestured to Chloe’s empty plate. ‘Hey, you should try the millionaire’s shortbread next time. That’s my favourite. And we make lemon Bakewells.’
‘Well, I won’t be staying for much longer,’ Chloe reminded her.
‘Right.’ Hannah looked crestfallen, and Chloe felt a pang of guilt.
‘I’ll just have to try them all before I go,’ she said. She rose and paid the bill, leaving a tip in the basket.
‘You’re the best, Chloe. I’ll try and swing by the library with Lily, okay?’
Hannah might have just been being polite, but Chloe said, ‘We have an event coming up for children. You can bring her along, if you like. Oh!’ She smacked her forehead.
She had almost forgotten. ‘I actually could use your help with the bake sale.’ She checked her phone. ‘I’ve got to go, but remind me, okay?’
Her belly full of delicious cake and coffee, Chloe’s mood buoyed her as she headed for the school.
It was one minute to one when she knocked on the headteacher’s door.
The sounds of children laughing and playing echoed up and down corridors decorated with colourful drawings.
It occurred to Chloe that Hannah’s daughter would probably attend this school when she was old enough.
‘Come in,’ said a woman’s voice.