Page 10 of Lunar Diamonds
I sipped more drink. “None of us are fine right now.”
“True. But you know I worry.”
I did. Carol cared about every single member of staff here at Coldharbour Central Library—the biggest of three libraries in the city. A proper matriarch. She always made sure we were happy, safe, and satisfied with work. And raked us over hot coals if we behaved like arseholes, which was rare. We left that to the customers.
That poor goblin. Irrespective of the book lobbing, he didn’t deserve such a brutal ending.
“Are we staying closed for the rest of the day?” I asked, knowing the answer already.
“Yes.”
I wrapped my fingers around the mug, watching the witchcop and Nina move away from the door.
Carol sighed heavily, grabbing the biscuit tin from the coffee table. “I have a day of endless meetings ahead of me. Risk assessments galore, all that paperwork.” She popped the lid of the Christmas tree shaped tin. “Pink wafer?”
“No, thanks.”
She held one up, inspecting it. “Where did these all come from?”
“Mrs. Green bought twenty packets for us as a Christmas present,” I answered.
Bless her. She was one of the loveliest customers ever. An elderly woman with an obsession with pink—from pink wafers toher pink rinse and all-pink wardrobe. And she loved true crime books. I’m talking so obsessed I think she wanted to be Miss Marple, but working in a gorier setting.
Carol nodded and dunked the wafer into her coffee. “You can go home after you’ve drunk that. I’ll get Nina to run you home.”
“I’ll get the bus,” I countered.
She scoffed. “Why? She’ll happily do it.”
“I’d like to make the most of my weekly pass.”
She devoured the soggy wafer in one, barely chewing it. “Perfection. Anyway, please let Nina take you home. I’ll feel better if you do.”
The staffroom door opened, Nina entering with a face full of thunder.
“What happened?” Carol asked.
The werewolf dumped herself beside me. “Shades slashed my tires.”
“What?”
“No tires. Car is out of action.” She peeked at my mug. “What are you drinking?”
“Toxic waste,” I answered.
Carol offered her some pink wafers, of which she grabbed a big handful. “I’m waiting for a mechanic to tow it.” She sighed, her hand closing around her pink bounty. The wafers crunched, crumbs sprinkling her jeans.
With limited parking, library staff who drove were forced to use the shopping center’s carpark. Only Carol and Steve, the deputy manager off duty today, used the two spaces outside the library’s backdoor.
“I’m so sorry,” Carol responded sympathetically. “Is there anything I can do?”
“You can brace yourself.”
Carol put down her coffee and the biscuit tin. “What is it?” Her forehead creased with concern.
I drank on, ready to hear the bad news.
Yuck. Such lemony hell.
