Page 30 of The Library of Second Chances
‘Mrs Cook!’ she called. ‘There’s a leak in the roof.’
The increasing rain outside meant the dripping was quickly turning into a steady stream. A few minutes later, Eric stood with his hands on his hips, squinting up at the ceiling. The rain drummed on the roof and the arched windows, and the water spilled onto a bookcase. ‘That’s unfortunate,’ he remarked.
‘I hadn’t noticed that leak before.’ Mrs Cook looked up. ‘My eyes aren’t very good.’
‘I hadn’t noticed it until now, either,’ Chloe assured her. ‘Maybe it only happened last night.’
‘Eric, could you fetch a bucket from the staff room?’ the librarian asked.
Eric arrived with a steel bucket. He was tall enough to just about reach the top of the bookcase, and he placed it under the leak. Then he let out a disappointed groan. ‘It’s ruined some of the books.’
They rushed over to see. Almost the entire top shelf and most of the second shelf had suffered water damage. Emotion welled up in Chloe’s chest and she sniffled. She knew it was silly to be upset over damaged books, but she couldn’t help feeling that she should have acted sooner.
‘Help me shift the shelf, please, Eric,’ said Mrs Cook.
Even with their combined efforts, the large bookshelf proved too heavy to move on its own, and so they began the painstaking task of removing all the books. Eric said Mrs Cook should wait in the reception area for customers while they separated the damaged books from the unharmed ones. Clementine appeared, meowing softly at them and sitting with his tail wrapped around his paws, regarding them with large eyes.
Chloe wanted to cry as she deposited the soggy books into a black bin bag. There were some wonderful classics here that would never be read again. It made her think of her own paperback book, the only one she currently owned, ruined withwine. It wasn’t a good week for books. All the while, the steel bucket plinked with the leak. It rained hard outside, and soon Eric had to put a mug underneath while he rushed to the bathroom to empty the bucket.
Chloe talked to Eric as they worked, feeling a little silly for getting emotional over a bunch of books. She learned that he loved football, and he read a lot in his spare time. ‘What about you, Chloe?’ he asked. ‘Do you, er, have any pets?’
She wondered if Mrs Cook had filled him in on Chloe losing her parents and that was why he hadn’t asked about her family. She silently thanked her and said, ‘I wouldn’t mind a cat.’ Clementine walked by, his tail curling briefly around Eric’s arm as he passed. ‘But I don’t know how long I’m staying here. It seems pointless to get a pet when I might be moving soon.’ To where, she still didn’t know. But she had to start making plans. Sometimes the opportunity to do the things you wanted to do slipped away from you if you didn’t seize the day and make them happen.
Even if a small part of her protested at the thought of leaving the library behind.
‘I hope you don’t go,’ said Eric in a small voice, making Chloe smile.
‘I’ll take over for a bit, if you like, Eric,’ said Mrs Cook, appearing at the top of the stairs. ‘You keep putting books into the system for me. I can’t make sense of that screen.’
Chloe waved goodbye to Eric as Mrs Cook settled at her side. They worked in silence for a few moments.
Before she could think too deeply about it, Chloe said to Mrs Cook, ‘So this library, it’s quite special, isn’t it?’
‘Oh yes, I like to think so.’ Mrs Cook inspected a book, opening it and letting the pages flip between her fingers, checking no water had seeped into them. ‘It’s definitely one of the most beautiful in England.’
‘It is.’ Chloe felt an urge, a pressing nudge, to tell Mrs Cook what she had experienced here. ‘What did you mean when you said the library is happy? That it makes its own scents and heats the room?’
‘Exactly as it sounded,’ said the older woman. ‘This library, Chloe. It’s like you said. It’sspecial. I knew when I met you that your love for books and reading would make you a good match for this place. And I was right, wasn’t I?’
‘I found something. In a book,’ Chloe blurted. She felt so alone right now, and she wanted to tell someone. To have somebody here at the library she could share her secret with. She had the feeling the librarian wouldn’t laugh at her, even if she didn’t believe what she was about to say. Chloe turned to face Mrs Cook, shifting on her knees. ‘Not long after I started working here, I picked up a book. It was, um, glowing. I read a line out loud and . . .’ She told Mrs Cook everything, even about the dratted date that had led her to seek refuge in the library late at night; pulling a nineteenth-century nobleman from a book, having a conversation with him, talking about first impressions. Doing it two more times, both times with a book character she knew and loved, brought to life and sent home when she read out their final line.
The librarian’s expression was unreadable the whole time, and Chloe was worried that she had overstepped, that Mrs Cook would just be left confused or angry. Then the elderly woman chuckled. She laughed louder, hugging the book she was holding to her chest. Her chortles were full of such delight that Chloe just stared at her.
‘Oh, Chloe, thank goodness. You finally worked it out.’
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
‘WHAT?’ CHLOE’S JAWdropped open in surprise.
Mrs Cook let out another chuckle that became a delighted giggle that made her seem suddenly years younger. She gestured around them. ‘The library and its magic. Being able to meet characters from the books. I’m so pleased you can do it, too, and that you’ve finally realised it’s not all in your head. It took the last woman who worked here six months to tell me.’
Chloe was stunned. ‘You mean . . . it’s not only . . .?’ She flushed, not wanting to give voice to the words. She had assumed it was only her who could do it, that she had some kind of powers that had manifested on their own. ‘Anyone here can pull out characters?’
‘Well, it’s different for everybody.’ The librarian shifted towards her, setting the book she was holding fondly on the pile of undamaged tomes. The rain was letting up outside now, though the roof still dripped. ‘And it doesn’t work for everyone. The library chooses, Chloe – it knows how much you love books, how much you care for the stories all around us.’
Chloe thought back to the box of tissues when she sneezed, the occasional sigh of warmth she felt or the scent of chocolate and cinnamon. ‘It’s a magical library,’ she said, feeling a rush of excitement. It felt like a secret between her and Mrs Cook. A wonderful, delicious secret. Some of the tension, the part of her that she had kept to herself until now, loosened in her shoulders.
‘Who have you met?’ asked Mrs Cook with enthusiasm. ‘Who came out to visit you?’
