Page 24 of The Library of Second Chances
A sense of contentment stole over Chloe as her shoes clacked on the floor. She passed the shelves towards the back closet, more ideas formulating in her mind. It was as though, by discussing things with Mandy and Mrs Cook, the ideas had snowballed. Maybe they could attach banners all across the tops of the shelves in the children’s books section. They could have one table full of books facing upward, another table for snacks and baked goods . . .
A glow caught Chloe’s eye, and she took a step back, peering down the shelf. Her heart thumped.
A book was glowing.
It was happening again.
For a moment, Chloe loitered. If ever there was a chance for her to explain what was happening to Mrs Cook, this was it. But what if the book stopped glowing while she was gone? She imagined the elderly librarian, panting as she hurried to ascend the staircase with Chloe in hysterics, only for the book to be back to normal.
That would be embarrassing. She supposed she could take the book down to show Mrs Cook, but there was the risk that a visitor would overhear. A glowing book would be difficult to explain.
She considered ignoring it, but the urge to pick up the book was strong. She had already spoken to two men – two larger-than-life, attractive men who had only previously existed in a talented writer’s mind.
Who would emerge this time?
Before she could stop herself, Chloe moved to the book. No, it wasn’t a book, but a comic. It was on the bottom shelf, though it remained free of dust. She tugged it out and straightened, inhaling sharply as she flipped open the pages, her fingers already trembling.
Brightly coloured, vintage-style art stared back at her, the comic’s story told in a dynamic, action-packed way. For a moment Chloe admired the art, having never found much time for it before.
‘Chloe?’ Mrs Cook called from downstairs.
Chloe swallowed her disappointment. ‘Yes?’
‘Are you busy, love?’
Chloe’s honest answer was yes, but there was no way for her to explain it. She tucked the comic book inside her cardigan and half-ran down the stairs to see what Mrs Cook wanted.
‘I quite fancy one of those coffees you brought us that time,’ said the librarian, squinting at the computer screen.
‘From the Brew House?’ Chloe perked up. If word was spreading about Hannah and her uncle’s café, that was great. ‘Would you like me to go and get you one? The caramel ones are lovely.’
‘I suppose I can’t lose my teeth twice in a lifetime.’ Mrs Cook flashed her a grin. Chloe gave a guilty chuckle; she’d had no idea the librarian’s teeth were fake. ‘Treat yourself, too, love. Here’s a tenner.’ She plucked a ten-pound note from her purse.
Chloe ran to get her bag, neatly sliding the glowing comic book into it. She would deal with that later.
Soon she was on her way to the Brew House. To her delight, Hannah was there.
‘Want to upgrade to large size for fifty pence extra?’ Hannah chirped.
‘Best not,’ said Chloe, looking longingly at the large cups. ‘Mrs Cook’s paying.’
Hannah had gone rigid, her face slack with shock.
‘Don’t move,’ said a voice behind Chloe.
Chloe froze, cold fear flooding her. In her peripheral vision, the flash of a knife appeared by her side. Her insides turned to jelly, her brain numbing.
‘All right, I want all the money out of the till.’ The stranger’s voice sounded young. A teenager, maybe younger than Eric. He also held the tremor of . . . fear? ‘I’ve got a knife. I’ll . . . I’ll use it.’
Hannah still wasn’t moving, her mouth opened slightly with shock. ‘I . . . what?’ she croaked.
‘I mean it!’ the boy said. ‘Seriously. Give me all the money in the till, now!’
Hannah recovered, her hands trembling as she opened the till. It took her two attempts. She whimpered as she fumbled with the cash.
Chloe’s bag felt warm. The comic book . . .
The boy, who was shorter than Chloe and had the hood of his jacket pulled up over his head, leaned over the counter, the knife shaking in his hand. Chloe dared take a step back, her heart breaking to see Hannah trembling, hastily dropping five-pound notes on the table.
