Page 81 of Big Nick Energy
‘Excuse me, I was wondering if you could help me?’ a voice suddenly pipes in softly from across the desk. Amidst the crowd of library goers and choir members, an older woman stands there in a fluffy parka and hat, pulling her gloves off at the fingers, her eyes drawn to the ceiling, looking around this place.
‘Of course,’ I say, stepping forward, leaving Helen and Olga to tend to other duties and people.
‘I’m sorry. I’m not a member here,’ she says softly. ‘Did you need to see a card?
I shake my head, chuckling. ‘We’re not a country club. It’s all good. Would you like to be a member? I can sign you up, it’s all free,’ I say, getting the form and a leaflet about the library service ready for her.
‘Oh no. It’s just… I was on Facebook and someone showed me a post about letters that had been found in some books. I think they might be mine.’
I stand there, looking into this woman’s sweet face, the creases around her eyes and the softness of her curls. ‘You’re K?’
‘Keira.’
‘And the man who wrote them to you?’
‘Nick.’ Of course it was. It had to be. ‘I was moving house and that book got put on the wrong pile. I’m so sorry. I don’t even remember putting them in that book. He must have done that.And then…’ I reach down to a drawer under the counter where I’ve kept the book, all the letters, and when I put it onto the desk the relief in her face is palpable. She puts her hands to her chest. ‘Did you read them?’
‘Some of them.’
‘Then I am very embarrassed,’ she says, blushing slightly.
‘Don’t be. We have a whole section dedicated to erotica – this was mild in comparison,’ I joke. I can’t seem to wipe the grin from my face that the mystery K is here and that we seem to have succeeded in this quest to find the authors of these letters. I saywethough – there is another person who needs to see this, someone who made this happen, who was adamant from the start that this become a mission of sorts. He’d love this so very much.
Keira runs her fingers over the cover of the book, laughing, and then flicks through the pages to find the letters, carefully pressed and flattened out. She scans one of them and emotion overwhelms her, a single tear rolling down her face. I come around from my desk and instinctively go to put an arm around her.
‘We have an office, a quieter space if you want to go there for a moment?’ I say.
‘Oh no. I’m… it’s a happy tear. He always wrote a very good letter.’
And for a moment, I realise why she might be crying, why her Nick isn’t here, claiming these letters with her. ‘He wrote?’
‘He passed away two years ago. Heart attack.’ I tilt my head to one side, emotion rising up in my chest. ‘Which was ironic as he had the biggest, kindest heart.’
‘Were you… married?’
‘Twenty-five years, three kids.’
‘I’m very sorry.’
She smiles. ‘Don’t be. He was the most perfect man and I was lucky to have had that time with him. Some don’t ever get that, at all. And now I have these which I thought I had lost forever. You know how many bins I went through trying to look for them? How many charity shops I rang? So, this is more than you’ll ever know. The perfect Christmas gift to be reunited with these. I will forever be grateful…’ She pauses, waiting for me to say my name.
‘Kay.’
‘See, it’s a sign. Keira begins with K. Are you married, Kay? With anyone?’
I shake my head. I can’t even begin tell her about signs, about my Nicks. ‘It’s complicated.’
She laughs. ‘You youngsters all say that but in reality, love is the simplest feeling in the world.’ I feel my eyes tear over to hear those words. ‘I hope you have a really lovely Christmas, Kay. I don’t know how to thank you.’ She reaches over and gives me a very big hug before stepping back to look at me. Her eyes seem to have almost started glowing again to have these letters back in her possession, to be talking of her husband so fondly.
‘You could join the library?’ I joke.
‘Deal. I’ll bring my grandkids next time they’re around. I saw a poster for a story-time session?’
‘Every Tuesday and Thursday.’
She nods. ‘Merry Christmas.’
‘Merry Christmas.’
