Chapter Thirty-Three
T HEY LEFT THE abandoned chapel grounds and took a breather, Chloe checking the skies in case any of the flying characters had made it out. They examined the books they still had left.
‘Where else is significant to you in this town, Chloe?’ Mrs Cook asked.
Chloe glanced around at them all. ‘Home,’ she said, counting them on her fingers. ‘After that, I don’t know. The supermarket?’ She met Harry’s eyes. The Italian restaurant where we told each other our secrets?
‘Maybe we should split up again,’ Eric suggested.
‘What if more characters have come out at the library?’ Gwen asked.
‘Please don’t say that,’ said Chloe with a groan. ‘All right, look. Let’s check the restaurant. And, um, the supermarket as well, just in case.’
‘I could go home,’ Gwen offered. ‘See if anyone is there.’
They split up, though Chloe took Harry’s sleeve. ‘Stay with me?’
‘Shall we check the restaurant?’ he asked with a smile.
Eric scurried off to check the supermarket and Mrs Cook headed back to check on the library. They hurried along to the restaurant where they had eaten together, where Chloe and Harry had shared so many of their secrets. The place was open, a delicious savoury scent already wafting onto the street.
Chloe’s stomach rumbled. It felt like a lifetime since the omelette she’d eaten with Gwen this morning. A supposedly normal morning where all they had to do was visit the graveyard. ‘Do you see anyone?’ she asked Harry.
Chloe stepped as close to the restaurant window as she could without touching it, hoping no one would see her looking and think she was weird.
The restaurant seemed fairly busy, with waiting staff moving around the tables.
Couples and families sat together, none of them looking much like the two remaining characters.
‘Look, over there,’ whispered Chloe, pointing towards the bathroom.
A man who could only be the illusive detective was striding back from the direction of the restaurant toilets.
He looked so painfully Victorian era that Chloe was surprised no one else in the restaurant was craning their necks to look at him.
Well, some of them were, eyeing him with interest before going back to their meals.
Chloe hoped no one would try to talk to him.
He wore a tweed suit and boots today, and Chloe couldn’t miss his height and his hawk-like nose. He regarded everything he saw with a thoughtful frown, as though he had encountered a mystery here and he was trying to solve it.
‘That’s interesting,’ said Harry. ‘The characters need to use the toilet like real-life people do?’
‘It looks that way,’ said Chloe, hoping the detective hadn’t been back there looking for clues or something. ‘They eat, too. Like at the café, the Scottish warrior had some cake, didn’t he?’
They couldn’t sit outside all evening, waiting for the detective to leave.
Already, he had returned to his table, where he had set down his deerstalker hat.
A half-finished meal sat before him. Chloe watched as he tucked a large serviette into his collar to serve as a napkin bib, then tucked into his spaghetti with meatballs, still frowning thoughtfully.
‘I should go and talk to him,’ said Chloe. ‘Who has the book?’
‘I think Eric has it.’ Harry had already pulled out his phone. ‘Look, it’s cold. Why don’t we go inside?’
That was better than standing out here. They stepped into the delicious warmth and Harry got them a table for two.
There wasn’t time to eat, so he ordered them both soft drinks.
Looking a little irked that they hadn’t ordered food, the waiter rushed off while Chloe texted the group chat, asking whoever had the book to write the character’s last line as a message.
Eric obliged soon after as the waiter was bringing them glasses of lemonade. Chloe risked a look at the detective. He had nearly finished his meal.
‘I’d better go and talk to him.’ Chloe took an obligatory sip of her drink then sidled over to the detective. She wished he hadn’t chosen such a conspicuous table; he was in the centre of the restaurant, and several people were watching him with amusement.
‘Good evening, madam,’ said the detective, setting down his cutlery. ‘We have met before, haven’t we?’
‘We have,’ she said, glad he remembered. ‘It’s me, Chloe. You gave me some advice last time we met.’
‘Did you bring me here again?’ His stare was intense as he put some spaghetti in his mouth, chewing slowly. ‘For what purpose? Do you need my advice?’ He looked around. ‘Or is there something more sinister at work here?’
‘I’m afraid it wasn’t me who brought you here this time,’ said Chloe. ‘And it’s nothing sinister,’ she quickly added. The last thing they needed was for him to inspect every little detail of the restaurant. ‘If you’re ready, I can send you back to London as soon as possible.’
He nodded, wiping his mouth. ‘And the topic of last time?’
‘Last time?’
The detective removed his spotless napkin bib, folding it neatly beside his clean plate.
‘You had a problem, I recall. A matter of truth and lies and a certain young man.’ He must have followed her gaze to where Harry was sitting, his chin resting in his hand while trying, and failing, to not look like he was watching them.
A small smile appeared on the detective’s face. ‘All resolved, I trust?’
‘Yes. You said just what I needed to hear.’ Chloe smiled back at him. ‘I’d say your task is complete.’
‘Such a hurry. Fine, I’ll settle the bill.’
‘Don’t do that,’ she said in alarm as the detective pulled out a worn-looking wallet.
‘What’ll it be?’ The money he was pulling out looked nothing like what Chloe had seen before. She looked in fascination at the gold-coloured coins with the royal head that could only be Queen Victoria. The detective laid them out on the table.
A waiter was coming towards them. Chloe had to think fast. ‘Debit card, please,’ she quickly said.
The waiter glanced at the detective. ‘Um, sure.’
Chloe raised her eyebrows at Harry, jerking her head towards the door. He was over in seconds.
‘Let’s go for a walk,’ said Harry brightly to the detective, taking him by the elbow. ‘You can smoke your pipe outside.’
‘You’ve been in a fight,’ said the detective, rising as Harry took him towards the door, looking at Harry’s black eye.
‘Yeah, you should see the other guy,’ said Harry as Chloe quickly paid for the detective’s meatball spaghetti. She stepped into the cold to see the detective lighting his pipe, the spark of his match illuminating his large nose.
‘Do you think they suspected anything?’ Chloe asked. She smacked her forehead. ‘Oh no. Our drinks.’
‘I’ll get them,’ said Harry. ‘You’ve got the last line, right? It’s better if you do it now. There’s no one around.’ He dashed back inside to pay for the drinks as the detective regarded Chloe with a questioning look.
‘Time for you to go back home,’ said Chloe as cheerfully as she could, pulling out her phone.
‘This has been a strange night, but the dinner was excellent.’ The detective put on his deerstalker hat. ‘Goodbye, Chloe.’
Chloe quickly read the line of the book from the group chat, dearly hoping there were no mistakes. The detective gave her a small nod and he faded to nothing. Harry stepped out of the restaurant a moment later, straightening his trench coat.
‘It’s done,’ she said, tucking away her phone. ‘Did the staff mind?’
‘I gave them a big tip,’ said Harry. ‘It’ll be fine.’
‘Thanks. At least it’s done.’ She returned his relieved grin, wondering how much today had cost him.
Chloe’s stomach was growling; the detective’s pasta had looked amazing and the scents coming from the restaurant were divine.
But they still had one more character to find: the nobleman Chloe had first spoken to when she’d discovered the library’s power.
It felt fitting that he should be the last.
They checked the group chat, but nobody had said anything.
It didn’t look like he was at the supermarket; there had been enough time already for Eric to check it.
Chloe messaged everybody to let them know the detective was safely back in Victorian-times London, and ten minutes later they all met outside the library.
‘It looks like all is quiet in there,’ Mrs Cook reported. ‘I didn’t find any more characters wandering around and none of the books are glowing. And Clementine is safe and warm in his bed.’
‘That’s good news,’ said Chloe with relief. She glanced around at the group. ‘Where’s Gwen?’
Her sister hadn’t joined them, even though she had seen the group chat messages. Chloe swallowed, trying not to feel concerned. Gwen was hardly ever without her phone. Was there a reason she couldn’t respond?
‘I’m sure she’s all right,’ said Harry, probably seeing the alarm on her face.
‘I’ll ring her.’ Chloe did so as they walked through the library car park and back towards town. The phone rang and rang, but Gwen didn’t answer.
‘I wonder if she’s at home,’ said Chloe. ‘Let me check with Joe. He can see if the lights are on, at least.’ She didn’t want to waste time driving back if it would just lead to a dead end.
Their neighbour picked up the phone right away. ‘Hello, Chloe? Is that you? How lovely of you to call me!’
‘Hi, Joe.’ Chloe paused, wondering how to phrase this without it sounding strange. ‘Um, I’m wondering if you could do me a favour.’
‘For you, love, anything.’
She clambered into Harry’s car. Mrs Cook said she would drive Eric there. ‘Could you just check my house to see if any of the lights are on? Does it look like anyone is in?’
There had been enough time for Gwen to reach their house on foot, but that didn’t explain why she wasn’t answering her phone.
There was the sound of shuffling and the grunts and sighs of an old person rising out of a comfortable armchair. ‘All right, love, no problem. Is everything okay?’
‘Yes. I’ll be home myself in a minute.’