Page 35 of The Library of Second Chances
She ran to her room, soon returning with a box tied with ribbon. Her brow furrowing, Chloe took the box, which felt heavy in her hands, and opened it while Gwen leaned against the kitchen counter, watching. Inside was a book. Chloe took it out, her throat feeling suddenly tight.
‘It’s the one I spilled wine over,’ Gwen said softly as Chloe turned it over in her hands. It was the same edition, except it was new and unblemished, the lettering on the front cover reflectingin gold, its spine unbroken and the cream pages free of wine stains.
She was . . . touched. This wasn’t like Gwen at all. Something warm and uncomfortable spread in Chloe’s chest. ‘Aw, Gwen.’ She was shocked to feel tears well up. ‘This is . . . Thank you.’
‘Another cinnamon roll?’ asked Gwen.
Chloe gave a reluctant grin. ‘Go on then.’
They ended up polishing off the lot, and Chloe was uncomfortably full by the time they collapsed on the sofa in the living room.
‘Those were delicious. You may have found your calling.’
‘Thanks.’
Both of them leaned back on the couch. Chloe turned her head to look at her sister, to really look at her. Unfiltered, natural. Up close, she could see the stress lines in her sister’s make-up-free face, the dark shadows beneath her eyes.
Then something occurred to her. ‘Gwen, how did you pay for this book? And all the baking ingredients? You said you were broke.’
Gwen winced, then gave a sheepish laugh. ‘Ah, yeah. I was hoping it wouldn’t come up this early.’ She pulled a plastic card from her pocket and handed it to Chloe. ‘I kind of took your debit card out of your wallet while you were asleep. But I’ll pay you back!’ she shouted when Chloe opened her mouth. ‘I promise. Once I get a job. And I made sure you had cash to pay for stuff before I took it.’
Maybe if it had been a lone occurrence, this wouldn’t have bothered her. But the stress of the day, this house,her sister, made rage build inside her.
Chloe held the plastic between her fingers. ‘You stole this from me?’
‘Borrowed,’ Gwen quickly said. ‘To do something nice for you, you know. I promise to pay you back once I have an income.’
‘Are youkiddingme?’
It took Chloe a moment to realise she had shouted. Gwen flinched from her, her blue eyes narrowing. ‘What is the big deal?’
‘You can’t just take people’s stuff, people’s money, and expect them not to be angry about it!’ Chloe sighed, massaging the bridge of her nose. More anger tingled on her skin, threatening to burst out of her. Instead, she rose from the couch. ‘I’m going to bed.’
‘Please don’t be annoyed.’ Gwen almost sounded pleading. ‘That’s all I bought.’
‘It doesn’t matter. It’s disrespectful. You don’t just help yourself to what’s mine.’
Gwen’s face hardened. ‘I see.’
‘Good.’ Chloe slammed the living room door behind her.
The cinnamon rolls churned in her stomach.
Clementine relaxed on the windowsill cushion in the upper archives, one of his favourite spots. His tail twitched left and right as he watched humans walk around outside. They all had their little tasks and quirky behaviours he didn’t quite understand. He knew what a smile meant, knew that salty drops of water came from their eyes when they were sad. He had found a book left open once, one for children about emotions, and he had studied it intensely to better understand people. They had better appreciate his efforts. Clementine was a busy cat, with cat responsibilities, and he had put them aside to study this fascinating species.
He stretched, kneading the soft material of the cushion, and watched a woman walk her dog until she disappeared around a corner. Then he leaped from his windowsill to begin his nightlypatrol of the library. What this place would do without him, he didn’t know.
His bell jangled as he went down the spiral staircase, his paws silent on the wood. He thought he heard something creak as he went, and he glanced at the silent bookshelves around him. All was well here.
Maybe Mrs Cook had left a treat for him before she’d left. She did that sometimes. Clementine’s paws pattered on the lobby carpet as he headed towards the kitchen.
He stopped in his tracks.
A cat was already there, licking her paw as she glanced up at him. Clementine sat, enraptured. She was a chubby thing, with grey and black tabby stripes. Her eyes, brown and yellow, looked at him as she stood on all four of her paws, her tail straight up.
She was the most beautiful creature he had ever seen. Clementine found himself stiffen, any question of who she was and how she had gotten here somehow fleeing his mind.
Come now, Clementine, he chastised himself. He was not an adolescent kitten laying eyes on a female for the first time. Clementine straightened, showing off his long, orange-furred legs, regarding her with quiet interest.
