Chapter Seventeen
C HLOE FOUND SHE could hardly wait for Friday. Harry seemed to be invading her thoughts.
She told herself it was just the change of pace of the weekend that she was looking forward to.
Even if the memory of Harry’s laughter brought a reluctant smile to her face, or the way the corners of his brown eyes creased when he was pleased about something.
No, this was just an opportunity to spend time with a guy who didn’t forget his wallet so she’d pay, or call his mum in the middle of the date.
It’s not a date, she reminded herself. Just two . . . friends hanging out. No, Harry was barely a friend. Two people hanging out for the sake of peace. And nothing else.
Harry texted her and asked her to meet him at an Italian restaurant in town the coming Friday. She hadn’t been there before, and a big stupid grin spread on her face as she tucked her phone away. Mrs Cook gave a knowing smile but said nothing.
She had seen no more glowing books so far this week, and Gwen proved to be almost pleasant company. Chloe made spaghetti Bolognaise and asked Gwen to join her. After all, it was strange for them to eat separately when they were both in the same house.
‘So, um.’ Chloe hoped she wouldn’t regret this. Gwen sat opposite her, in Dad’s old chair, adding parmesan to her meal. ‘How’s the job hunt going?’
Gwen told her about the jobs she had applied for. Cafés, restaurants, retail. ‘Though I don’t think anyone’s going to want me when I don’t have any job history,’ she said, twirling spaghetti with her fork. ‘Maybe I need to work on my CV .’
Chloe ate steadily, knowing what was coming. She counted to three in her head before Gwen perked up and said, ‘Hey, Chloe, maybe you could help me out.’
She chewed slowly, watching as Gwen pouted, staring at her with expectation. She wriggled on her seat like a child. ‘Please, Chloe! I’m rubbish with computers and writing and stuff.’
Chloe finally swallowed. ‘All right, all right, I’ll help you.’ The stronger her CV was, the better chance Gwen had of finding a job.
After dinner, Chloe dug out her old laptop. She hadn’t used it in a while, but it booted up with little trouble. Gwen loitered behind Chloe, hovering annoyingly until Chloe told her to get a chair. It scraped over the kitchen tiles.
‘Show me your CV so far,’ said Chloe, and Gwen got it up on her email.
It was a bit of a mess, different fonts, and missing important information like her date of birth and current address. Chloe’s organised side, the part that loved arranging books in alphabetical order at the library, got unreasonably irritated and chose the ‘select all’ function.
‘Wow, you’re really good at this,’ said Gwen with a guilty giggle as Chloe straightened out her CV .
‘All right. Remind me what A-Levels you got.’
Their conversation became uncomfortable as they referenced their teenage years. Their sentences became shorter, the silence between Chloe’s questions broken only by the sound of typing.
‘I didn’t know you got a B in biology,’ said Chloe with interest. Gwen shrugged.
After getting her A-Levels, Gwen had met a guy during a trip to a nearby city. He’d been rich and taken a liking to her. He had asked her to join him on a trip around the world.
Mum and Dad, of course, had been completely against it.
‘You’re only eighteen, Gwen,’ Mum had said, in this very room, pacing and shaking her head while Dad sat in grim silence.
He had still been smoking back then, and though Mum insisted he stand at the back door whenever he had a cigarette, the air still held the stale fug of tobacco.
‘This guy is a stranger. You can’t go jetting off with some random man. ’
‘I’m an adult,’ Gwen had argued. Chloe had been listening from the doorway, but she hadn’t wanted anyone to know she was there.
Chloe herself was preparing to go off to university.
It was typical of Gwen to try and steal her thunder.
Did she really want to go off with some guy she’d just met or was she just looking for attention?
‘Besides, he’s rich,’ said Gwen, and Chloe saw her take a seat at the table, crossing one perfect leg over the other. ‘He let me ride in his car, and he took me to a fancy hotel . . . I mean, uh, a restaurant. He wants to take me on his private yacht.’
‘But he’s a stranger, Gwen. It doesn’t matter how much money he’s got,’ Dad said, looking up. He had the same blue eyes as his youngest daughter, and Gwen swallowed as he looked at her. Out of their parents, she had always been closer to Dad. ‘This is ridiculous. You’re not going.’
‘The only ridiculous thing is you both expecting me to stay in this boring town for ever,’ Gwen snapped, gaining her feet in a flurry of movement. ‘I don’t want to go to university.’
‘You don’t have to,’ said Mum in earnest, stepping forward to take her daughter’s hand. Gwen snatched it away, stepping back. ‘You can get a job and think about what you want to do. There’s still plenty of time. Just don’t throw your life away for someone you barely know.’
‘He could be a weirdo, Gwen,’ added Dad. ‘He could already be married. Terrible things happen to girls who go off with strangers.’
‘He’s not a stranger!’ Gwen cried. ‘I’ve known him for months, if you must know. We’re in love. I’m going, and you can’t stop me.’
Gwen strode out of the dining room, so fast Chloe wasn’t prepared. She almost ran into her, and they both glared at each other.
‘Were you listening to our conversation?’ Gwen sneered.
‘Maybe. You’d know plenty about sneaking around,’ Chloe snapped back.
Gwen just scoffed at her and stomped up the stairs. She was gone the next day.
‘Chloe?’
Chloe started, realising she had been staring unseeing at the laptop screen while the memory surfaced. She cleared her throat and said, ‘Could we work on this tomorrow? I’m a bit tired.’
She thought her sister would argue, or at least press her for more, but she nodded and stepped back as Chloe rose from the chair, painfully aware that the memory that had flooded her mind had happened in this very room.
She splashed cold water on her face in the bathroom. Coming back to Wellbridge, to her parents’ home, had been hard enough. She didn’t know if she could handle it at all if Gwen was here.
Who was she kidding? A batch of cinnamon rolls and a new book – paid for with Chloe’s stolen card – wasn’t enough to erase what had happened between them seven years ago.
Clementine watched Chloe come into the library that Wednesday. She smiled at him, but he could see dark things under her eyes, like shadows. He meowed and rubbed himself against her leg anyway, curling his tail around her calf.
‘Lovely boy.’ She knelt to pet him properly. He found he didn’t mind, and purred softly as her gentle hands found his favourite spots. She looked happier when she straightened. Clementine was rather pleased with himself.
He watched the humans work, unsure whether he preferred the library when it was just him or when there were people around. People he liked and trusted. The skinny boy, Eric, was here. Clementine couldn’t gauge his age, but he looked like a kitten.
Clementine watched the day go by from the top of the shelf behind the lobby counter. He liked how people looked at him when they came into the library and saw him lying there. Like he was doing something funny and cute, even if he was just watching them.
He watched Chloe now, thinking how her brown hair was the exact same colour as the chestnuts that sometimes fell in the garden.
When she went to the non-fiction section, he followed her, the bell on his neck ringing.
He sometimes wondered if he would see the stunning female tabby cat again, but the children’s section was empty, all the books piled neatly on the shelf.
Clementine passed Chloe, then glanced behind him to see a piece of lined paper sitting on the nearby soft area. He picked it up in his mouth then meowed softly at Chloe.
‘What have you got there, Clem?’ Chloe reached out and he dropped it into her hand. She opened the paper and her eyebrows came together. She made a strange noise, like she was exhaling a lot of air at once.
‘This again.’
Curious, Clementine followed Chloe into the lobby.
‘What’s up, Chloe?’ Eric asked, turning from the computer on the stool, his elbows resting on the desk.
‘It’s so silly.’ Chloe held up the paper.
‘I keep finding these notes everywhere. First an inked heart, then a message saying “ I like you ”.’ She held up this one.
Clementine couldn’t read the odd squiggles on the paper, but then Chloe said, ‘ Coffee sometime? Are these being left by . . .’ She stopped herself, her cheeks going pink.
Clementine sat between Eric and Chloe, watching them with interest.
Eric had gone quiet. Then he said, ‘I didn’t think you were finding them.’
‘What?’
Eric slid off the stool, nervously scratching the back of his head. ‘I thought someone was throwing them away or something. I tried to put them close to you, so you’d see them first . . .’
‘It was you?’ Chloe looked down at the paper in her hand. ‘Why?’
Oh no , thought Clementine.
‘I thought it was obvious.’ Eric stepped towards her, fiddling nervously with his shirt.
Stand up straight, boy , Clementine admonished. Or he would have, if he could talk. Like this.
He rose up like he had to attract a female, walking with straight legs and his tail up and confident. Eric didn’t notice him, looking at Chloe with earnest eyes.
‘I really like you, Chloe.’ Eric’s voice held a tremor now. ‘I have since I first met you. You’re so beautiful, and you’re always nice to me. I’d like to go out with you.’
Clementine risked a glance at Chloe. He didn’t understand all of the emotions that flickered across her face, but he understood pretty well when she took a step back.
‘Oh, Eric.’ She put a hand on her chest. ‘I . . . I’m so sorry. I don’t think of you that way.’