Page 51 of The Library of Second Chances
Clementine, having hidden throughout most of the event and the entire chase with the monkey, reappeared with quiet dignity, meowing softly.
‘You could have helped us catch the visitor,’ said Chloe with affection, kneeling to scoop up the cat. He let her, purring softly when she petted his head in the spot she knew he liked it. ‘You could have grabbed his tail or something.’
‘This is the most fun I’ve had in a while,’ said Harry. When his large hand reached out to pet Clementine, the orange cat let him, meowing softly into his palm. ‘Monkey and all.’
Chloe beamed at him, feeling suddenly very fond of all the people around her.
The books were cleared up, the earnings locked safely away, and the tables and chairs back to their original positions. Harry had been strangely zen about everything that had transpired. ‘You’re not freaked out by all this?’ Chloe asked him when they were alone.
‘A bit,’ he admitted. ‘But I take it as it comes.’
Chloe nodded, feeling like she understood. Unbelievable things could happen at times, but you’d give yourself a headache if you tried to deny it when it was right in front of your face. Even if it came in the form of a purple cartoon monkey.
‘Do you have any plans for Bonfire Night?’ he asked.
‘None,’ she said. In truth, she had been so preoccupied with the library event and with everything else going on that she hadn’t spared a thought for 5 November. She had hardly noticed the turn of the month, only the colder, longer nights reminding her of the upcoming winter.
‘There’s an event on at Thornbridge Hall.’ Harry scratched the back of his head. ‘I’ve never been before, but I’ve heard good things. If you’d like to go? With me?’
Something happy danced in Chloe’s chest. ‘Harry, you helped us catch the purple monkey. How could I say no?’
‘A purple monkey? That’s not some sort of euphemism, is it?’ said Mrs Cook, entering the kitchen and coming up beside them with a plate of leftover cakes in her hands. Eric giggled from the next room.
‘No, it’s not!’ Chloe’s cheeks burned. ‘Harry was . . .’ She remembered what he’d said about wanting to keep their outings private, swallowed, and said, ‘getting ready to leave. I’ll text you,’ she mouthed to him over Mrs Cook’s shoulder.
‘Take some of the baked goods home, too, Harry. I shall pop if I eat all these,’ said Mrs Cook, packing a Tupperware box into Harry’s hands. ‘There you go, love. It’s the least we can do for all your help.’
‘Thanks.’ He waved to them. ‘Goodnight. I have to be getting through the rest of those books I borrowed.’
Chloe found herself smiling as she watched him go, the light reflecting in his hair. He stepped outside and glanced back, giving her a wink before the door closed behind him.
When Chloe turned, she saw Mrs Cook watching her, a knowing smile on her lips.
‘What?’ Chloe asked, half amused.
‘Nothing at all, my love. I just wish I could give you some glass slippers and a carriage for your date at Thornbridge Hall.’
Chloe’s cheeks blazed.
She happily marked 5 November in her phone. Though it bothered her a tiny bit that Harry wanted to keep their outings a secret, it also really wasn’t her co-workers’ business. Even if Mrs Cook had worked it out in five seconds. Chloe had a feeling you wouldn’t be able to hide anything from the librarian.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CHLOE CHECKED UPon the customers’ late returns. Last time she had closed the window without finishing going through the list. She saw that there were three books that hadn’t been returned to the library yet.
‘The first step is to send a letter to their address,’ Mrs Cook explained. ‘Then if they don’t bring the book back or respond after seven business days, ring them.’
It sounded simple enough. Chloe dug out the template for the warning letter, changing only the names and addresses, and printed them off to be sent. The library fees for the late returns weren’t super expensive, but Chloe hoped that the people would get their letters and remember to return the books to where they belonged.
The third book on the list was overdue by several months, longer than Chloe had been working here, and the letter had gone ignored. ‘Oh dear,’ said Mrs Cook. ‘I haven’t been keeping on top of this, have I?’
‘It’s all right,’ Chloe reassured her. ‘I’ll give them a call.’
She had the phone number and address in front of her in the database. It was a home phone number, and nobody answered it. She supposed they must be at work.
‘She lives nearby,’ said Mrs Cook. ‘H. Campbell.’
‘Hm?’ Chloe clicked on the record to see the full name. ‘Oh! It’s Hannah.’
