The Library of Lost and Found(36)
She thought about the stack of unread books piled high on her dining table that she’d neglected, to focus on her jobs for other people instead. Whenever she lifted one to read, a voice in her head (her own) told her to put it back.
“You’ve got other things to do, Martha.”
“You should always make time for books,” Owen said. “Do you have a favorite?”
Martha knew her answer straight away. “It’s got to be Alice in Wonderland. I like Alice’s practicality and how she takes everything in her stride. She meets these odd creatures in magical situations and it never fazes her.”
“So, you’re a bit like Alice, then?” Owen dug a fork into his cake.
Martha gave a small, embarrassed laugh. “What, sensible and orderly?”
“I mean that you’re inventive and curious, and make sense of strange things…”
Martha dipped her head, surprised he had seen her in this way. She supposed it was a compliment of sorts, and it made her feel a little shinier. “Thank you,” she muttered and fiddled with her hair slide. “And what book do you like best?”
Owen thought for a while as he finished his cake. “That’s like choosing a favorite child or pet. But I do enjoy a good Jack Reacher. It’s because he’s the opposite to me. He’s tough and I’m not—I bet he’s got rock-hard abs.” He pointed at his stomach with both forefingers. “But my belly can double as a book rest.”
“I bet he can’t repair books the way you can.”
“That’s true.” Owen laughed. “I don’t think he owns monogrammed slippers.”
“I’ve only read a couple of the books. Does Reacher have many wives, too?” Martha asked, then wished she hadn’t.
Owen gave her a bemused smile. “I don’t have any wives at the moment… I have a few of the books, though. I can lend you one.”
Martha gave a small laugh. “I work in a library.”
“Aha. So you do.”
They finished their drinks and Owen insisted on paying, even though Martha shot out her hand and tried to grab the bill. “I really should pay for the coffees, to thank you for your help,” she said.
But Owen had already taken ten pounds from his wallet. “You can pay the next time,” he said. “When you’ve finished your coffee, I’ll drive you home.”
As she took the last sip of her drink, Martha didn’t argue with him. She rather liked his words, the next time.
If she dwelled on them too much, she’d manage to persuade herself they were terrifying. So instead she focused on seeing them for exactly what they were, friendly and something she should welcome.
14
Postcard
Over the next couple of days that followed, nothing could spoil Martha’s mood. Since she’d reconnected with Zelda, she felt lighter, reenergized, her fatigue lifted. When she headed down to Sandshift Bay for her morning circular walk, she no longer punched her arms to motivate herself. Her limbs moved fluidly, without effort.
When she read the names on the mermaid statue, they still tugged at her heart but she found a positive in that Siegfried had survived. As she looked across at the lighthouse, she wondered how he coped with losing his fellow crew members from the Pegasus. She knew from experience how events from your past could shape your future.
Martha also started to work her way through her tasks with renewed interest and vigor. She squirted washing-up liquid into a bath full of warm water and dipped Branda’s chandeliers into it. She lightly worked on each individual crystal with an old toothbrush. They now sparkled and looked like new. Will’s trousers were hemmed, pressed and bagged. She planned to start working her way through the Berlin Wall of boxes. If Lilian didn’t have time to help her, then Martha would do it, anyway. It would keep her busy while she waited for Gina or Zelda to get in touch.
Each time Martha completed a task, she moved its plastic box or bag to the side of the dining room. When she gave the job a big green tick in her notepad, her cheeks shone with pride.
There was now a definite path from her front door to her kitchen, rather than a maze. She could walk through the house without feeling like she was a horse competing in the Grand National.
She tried not to think about the date in the book, or what happened in the Storm family to make her nana disappear, because she was sure she’d find everything out, the next time she saw Zelda.
Owen’s advice also rang in her head. He had put into words what she already knew—that she should make more time to read. So she made sure she stopped working on her tasks at 7:00 p.m. sharp. She made a cup of tea and curled up in the wooden chair by the window overlooking the bay. She wrapped a blanket around her legs and read a Jack Reacher. And although she enjoyed his ruggedness, toughness and solution for every problem, she decided that she actually preferred a kinder, gentler sort of hero.
* * *
When Martha returned to work at the library, her stomach jumped with nerves as she opened the doors. She had already conjured up a picture of Branda, Nora and Horatio gossiping about her. She imagined Clive’s face would be smug and knowing. Her legs shook as she walked up to the desk.
However, when she peered cautiously around, everything seemed okay. The library exuded calm and the books surrounding her gave her the same warm welcome they always did. When she took her job application form out of the drawer, it didn’t look as scary as she thought it might.