Page 51 of The Society of Unknowable Objects
“From Hong Kong,” she explained. “He wasn’t dead. It doesn’t matter now... but he helped. He chased the man away.”
“Nice to see you, Frank,” Henrietta said, and when she smiled it looked to Magda to be genuine, full of affection and warmth.
Frank closed his eyes with a sigh. He seemed weighed down by drugs and exhaustion. “Not your fault he got the chess piece.” His voice sounded farther and farther away, as if he were receding down a tunnel. Magda had to lean in slightly to hear clearly. “The book is more important anyway. He doesn’t have the book.”
Magda shook her head, not understanding. “What book, Frank? The catalogue?”
“Mmm.”
“Why is it more important? I don’t understand.”
Frank answered with a long sigh and no words. When it became obvious that he wasn’t going to say any more Magda leaned forward and placed a kiss on his cheek. If Frank was aware of it, he gave no sign. She patted his hand and then joined James and Henry at the foot of the bed.
“I am sure he’ll be fine,” James said, keeping his voice quiet. He touched her lightly on her arm, as if trying to reassure.
“Yeah,” Henrietta agreed. “He’ll probably outlive us all just to prove a point.”
“Magda.” The voice was a croak from the bed. She looked back and saw Frank watching her through barely opened eyes. “The book... If I die, it’s in the magic pantry. The book and the letter. Everything’s in there.”
Then he was quiet, his head rolling slightly to the side as he slipped into unconsciousness.
A moment passed, and then Henry asked, “The magic pantry?”
***
They returned to Frank’s apartment, taking a taxi from the hospital, Magda’s mind whirring. They entered the shop and climbed the stairs to the apartment. The dark sitting room was filled with the sound of rain tapping on the windows, a sombre reception. Magda switched on the table lamps to make the room more welcoming and then went straight to the kitchen and to the cupboard that was her magic pantry.
“So what is the magic pantry?” Henry asked, taking a seat on one of the armchairs, her legs crossed and her hands pushed into her coat pockets. James followed her lead and perched on the edge of the sofa.
“It’s where Frank kept all the biscuits and treats for me whenever I used to visit.” She laughed at herself. “Of course I never once thought about why he called it the magic pantry. We have a magic cabinet and a collection of magical items, but I never gave ‘magic pantry’ a second thought.”
She frowned as she dug through packets of biscuits and cakes, quietly marvelling at the volume of food Frank had accumulated, and then her hands fell upon something else. It was a small notebook, pushed to the back of one of the shelves. The cover of the book was wrapped in brown paper, as if to protect it, and the pages were held together with an elastic band. There was an envelope stuck between its pages; she could see the edges sticking out at the top and bottom.
Magda walked over to where Henrietta and James were waiting and watching. Slipping off the elastic band, she opened the notebook and saw her name penned neatly on the front of the envelope. She held it up to show Henrietta.
“Letter from Frank?” the other woman asked, arching an eyebrow.
Magda nodded and placed the letter on the coffee table. She turned her attention back to the book. “It feels odd,” she said, turning it over in her hand, thumb brushing over the rough, brown paper that had been neatly cut and taped on the inside of the cover.
“Odd in what way?” James asked.
“Heavy,” Magda said. She looked at Henrietta pointedly. “Heavier than it should be.”
“Heavy like an artefact?” Henrietta was staring at the book in Magda’s hand.
Magda nodded slowly. “Yes.”
“It’s a magical book?” James asked, and Magda nodded.
She was shaking, she realised, her whole body suddenly alive with the realisation of what she was holding. “All this time thinking about magical items, and we’ve never had a magic book,” she reflected. “Why shouldn’t a book be magic?”
“Some might say they already are,” James offered.
Magda liked that, and a smile pulled at the corners of her mouth even as her whole body continued to tremble in anticipation. “What does it do?” she wondered aloud, her voice hushed.
“You need to read the letter,” Henrietta instructed, picking up the envelope.
“No,” Magda snapped. “Frank’s not dead!”
