Page 9 of The Gloaming

“I am so sorry, Erin,” he murmured. “I did not mean to bring up a sensitive topic.”

I pinched my lips together and nodded. He couldn’t have known what he was asking, and I’d have to get used to saying it eventually.

After a brief pause, he waved a hand at the bookshelves along the wall. “Have you read all of these?”

“Most of them,” I replied. “Almost everything in here used to be mine or Jon’s or Tom’s at some point. A few are second-hand or donated.”

Adam beamed, his teeth white and even. “How lovely. One should always pass books on, don’t you think? Though I’ve found the real challenge is getting people to return them.”

“Sounds like you’ve been burned before.”

“Several volumes worth, I’m afraid. I’m still waiting on a first edition I lent out in…” he paused. “Well, let’s just say I’ve learned my lesson.”

“And yet here you are, in a café full of books to be borrowed,” I noted. “Risky.”

“What can I say? I live dangerously.” His eyes sparkled with amusement.

We chatted easily for a few minutes about our favourites, and he turned out to be a fan of Oscar Wilde – which seemed appropriate.

Maggie came through from the back, and I was half aware of her counting the cash in the till, rattling mugs around and banging cupboard doors. I glanced at the clock, and Adam noticed.

“I fear I’m keeping you from your duties,” he said with anapologetic smile. “A young lady such as yourself must have more important things to be doing with your evening than humouring me.”

Despite myself, this strange man had broken through the haze I’d carried around all day. Though it felt odd to smile back at him, I did. Maybe it was because he was new, and he hadn’t known Jonathan – there were no reminders to worry about.

“No, it’s been nice,” I said truthfully. “You’ve taken my mind off things. And I’m always happy to talk about books.”

Adam stood and pulled on his dark coat. “Then rest assured, I will be back.” He flashed his teeth at me as he opened the door. “It has been a delight, Erin.”

“And you,” I replied as the door swung closed behind him. The moment he was out of sight, I flipped the closed sign and let out a long sigh. The second day was over. Almost.

Maggie made her way across and began shutting the wooden blinds on the front windows. “Made a friend?” she asked.

“Maybe.” I yawned. No amount of coffee had replaced the sleep I’d lost the last two nights. “Nice guy. Bookworm. I reckon he’ll be back.”

She gave me a thoughtful look. “I’ll finish up here if you want – you should get some sleep.”

I shook my head. “Can’t. Tom’s meeting me here to talk about… you know, funeral plans…” I trailed off. I couldn’t mention the real reason Tom was coming. Hell, I couldn’t tellanyone. It hit me that no one would ever know the truth about Jon’s death, and I had to steady myself against the wall.No.

Oblivious to my train of thought, Maggie’s face fell. “I didn’t realise he was coming in.” She peered down at her coffee-stained apron. “I’ll leave you to it, then. But don’t stay too late. Anything you can’t do on your own can wait until the morning.”

I twisted my mouth into some semblance of a smile and nodded.

3: Is A Misery Shared a Misery Halved?

Tom turned up just as Maggie was leaving, and I rested my elbows on the counter and watched their awkward exchange through the glass door. Tom said something that Maggie laughed at, and his cheeks flushed pink. I couldn’t help but think about how good they’d be for each other. And he deserved someone in his life that didn’t drag him down with death and violence. Namely, anyone but me.

Maggie went to leave, and I dashed over to hold the door open as Tom pushed through with his arms full of cables and his laptop bag.

I tried and failed to keep back a chuckle. “You know, she’s absolutely bloody smitten. You should have seen the guy she dismissed today because she ‘had her eye on someone,’ apparently.”

Tom averted his eyes and bustled through to the back room, but he was fooling no one. There was a little happiness playing around his mouth.

“I asked her out. We have a date next Friday.”

I froze. “What? Just now? Wow.”

“And?” As usual, Tom had layered up multiple t-shirts and checked flannel shirts with a scarf and fingerless gloves rather than do the sensible thing and buy a warm winter coat. One by one, he peeled off the layers, not meeting my eye – but the tip of his nose had turned red. A dead giveaway.

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