“Try working for your dad. Mine’s behaving as if I’m taking over the running of a small country, not a village takeaway.”
“How is he?”
“All right, although I’m not sure I’ll ever get him out of the kitchen and into the hospital.” Alex stood back and surveyed the library. “God, I haven’t been in here in years. I swear it was bigger when we were kids. And less, you know, run-down.”
“We’ve been having funding issues,” June said as she saw Alex take in the ancient dusty blinds, the peeling walls and chipped tables.
“It’s sad to see it like this. I have so many happy memories here. I used to love those games sessions your mum ran.”
June’s breath caught in her throat, as it did whenever someone mentioned her mum out of the blue.
“She introduced me to science fiction as well,” Alex said. “She must have spent hours recommending books to me.”
“We still have a small Sci-Fi section, if you want to take a look.”
“Actually, I was hoping you’d have a copy ofPride and PrejudiceI could borrow.”
“Are you sure?” June looked at Alex to see if he was winding her up. “There might be other books you’d prefer.”
“No, I’d like to readPride and Prejudice, please. I’ve heard it’s excellent.”
She found a copy on the shelf and brought it back to the desk. Alex handed her an old bent library card.
“I’ve got a book for you too,” he said as he reached into his rucksack and pulled out a well-thumbed paperback. “I know you said you weren’t sure about horror books, but this is something special. She’s one of my favorite authors.”
June was so taken aback she didn’t know what to say. She looked at the front cover and saw it wasThe Graveyard Apartmentby Mariko Koike. “Thanks, Alex. That’s really kind.”
“No worries. And thanks for this,” he said, waving his copy ofPride and Prejudiceas he strolled toward the door. “I hope you enjoy the book. Just don’t read it on your own at night.”
“If I have to sleep with the lights on again, then I’ll know who to blame,” June called after him, and then felt stupid when several people turned to look at her.
She studied the book in her hands. It must have been at least ten years old, and when she opened it, she saw the name Alex Chen scribbled on the first page. June had a sudden urge to lift it to her nose and smell it, but she put the book down on the desk. Sheglanced toward the door to see if Alex was still there, but instead she saw a hunched figure limping toward the desk.
“I want to make a complaint.”
With her small piggy eyes, sour expression, and substantial girth, Vera Cox had always reminded June of Aunt Sponge fromJames and the Giant Peach. She came into the library several times a week to borrow thrillers and moan at June.
“What’s the problem, Vera?”
“The children are being too noisy again. I can’t hear myself think.”
“I’m sorry, but as I’ve explained before, we can’t expect the little ones to be silent. They’re just enjoying the Children’s Room.”
Vera frowned, lines creased deep in her face. “It’s the mothers I blame; they just bring them here and leave them to run wild.”
“I’m not sure that’s true.”
“And another thing. Have you heard there’s an immigrant family moved into Lower Lane? I saw them myself this morning.”
June took a deep breath. “Can I help you with anything else, Vera?”
The old woman sniffed. “I think the toilet’s broken again; I can’t get in.”
June got up from the desk and went over to the toilet, relieved to get away from Vera. The door was locked when she pushed against it. “Hello, is anyone in there?”
There was no answer.
“Are you okay? This is June.”