Page 33 of The Library of Second Chances
Chloe’s feet felt cemented to the floor. ‘Oh. That’s . . . I’m so sorry,’ she said finally.
His grumpiness made some sense to her now. Hadn’t she been grouchy with Gwen, the grief sometimes rising to terrorise her at moments she didn’t expect?
‘Sorry,’ he said. ‘My wife and I used to visit that pub all the time, and last time she sat where you were sitting. You weren’t to know, but some of the words you said to your friend upset me, I suppose, and I kicked off.’
Chloe’s chest felt cold as she recalled laughing with Hannah.Just kill me . . . I’d rather die . . .
‘I’m so sorry, I had no idea.’ Chloe held her face, feeling her cheeks burn.
‘Please don’t be embarrassed. You weren’t to know.’ He offered her a small smile. ‘I wasn’t too delightful the first time I visited the library, either. I recall I insulted a book you liked?’
Despite herself, Chloe smirked. ‘Yeah, you said the writing was juvenile. That’s okay, it’s not everybody’s cup of tea.’ Her smile faded. What an awful thing, to lose your wife so young, to be surrounded by memories of her. Chloe couldn’t imagine. The thought of the man’s grief mirroring her own grief for her parents came unbidden, and she found her throat was suddenly tight. ‘I’m sorry, too,’ she said, when the silence stretched too far for her liking. ‘The chicken and chips were delicious.’
He laughed. It was the first time she’d heard him laugh. ‘Well, Chloe, thanks for accepting my apology. I haven’t always been a grumpy old sod, I promise. And I’ll try not to be, from now on.’
She felt a loosening in her chest. Harry seemed smaller, somehow. It couldn’t have been easy to say sorry, to tell her something so personal. ‘Come on,’ she said. ‘Let’s go and let Mrs Cook know about the roof.’
They went together. Harry gave her a smile on his way out, and something warm blossomed in her stomach.
Now the roof situation was under control, Chloe thought about her sister. She still hadn’t heard from her. But then again, why did she care so much? It wasn’t like she was going to be staying in Wellbridge for long. Another few months until she’d saved up to move near a city, and that was it. The pay here wasn’t all that great, even if she did enjoy working here. Even if the library was one of a kind, and had welcomed her as one of its own by showing her its magic.
Was it her imagination, or did the library seem a little subdued now that Harry had left? She couldn’t see it so much as feel it, like how the atmosphere felt different between a party and a church.
As she found herself alone in the lobby, she thought about him. How annoying he had been, how grumpy and standoffish. But hadn’t Chloe herself been unpleasant to be around soon after losing her parents? They were both grieving. Both dealing with it in different ways.
She thought back to their interactions. He and his wife had gone to that pub together, and Chloe had unknowingly stirred up some painful memories. Also, if she was being completely honest, she hadn’t exactly been the best company, either.
‘Looks like we both made a bad first impression.’ She wasn’t sure why she’d said that aloud, but it all made sense to her at once. She was talking to the library, of course.
Something rippled in the air.First impressions.
Chloe and Eric inspected the upper floor. Harry had indeed roped off the leaky area, though now the water was only coming in the occasional drip. ‘I’ll have to empty the bucket right before I go home,’ Chloe said. ‘And hope it doesn’t rain in the night.’
‘I checked the weather forecast earlier,’ Eric assured her. ‘It’s going to be a dry night.’
They put down some tarp, just in case, and agreed that was the best they could do until tomorrow. Tomorrow, when she would see Harry again.
She wasn’t sure why, but the thought was a pleasant one.
‘Hey, Chloe?’
Chloe stopped at the top of the stairs, glancing back to where Eric stood, his hands in his pockets as he looked sheepish. ‘Yeah?’
‘I . . .’ Eric cleared his throat, his Adam’s apple bobbing. ‘Nothing, never mind.’
‘If you’re sure.’ She returned his smile and headed down the spiral staircase. The stairs were so familiar to her now, it was likegoing down the stairs in her own house. She knew the third one creaked, that the polished banister had a slight chip in it right before the bottom. She wanted to know every corner and shadow of this library, to see what else this amazing building could do.
But that would take years. Time she didn’t have.
Oh, well. She would have to enjoy herself while she was here, until she sailed towards her next horizon.
Mrs Cook asked Chloe to close the library for the evening, and Eric left at four o’clock. Chloe put out food for the cat and switched off the upstairs lights. She emptied the bucket and placed it back under the leak, watching as the occasional drip plinked into the metal container. She couldn’t resist scanning the shelves in the fiction section, secretly hoping that she’d find a glowing book . . . but they all sat there, innocently dim and unremarkable.
She replayed Harry’s confession in her mind. Him looking abashed as he apologised. The way his large chest moved as he’d laughed. How dark his eyes were in contrast to his light hair.
How the library seemed to miss him.
She recalled Mrs Cook talking to herself. At first she had assumed it was because she was elderly, but maybe she hadn’t been muttering alone. Perhaps she had been talking to the library.
