CHAPTER 40
I waited until the clock struck midnight before I went to the library. I’d managed to catch a little bit of sleep after my bath, and was feeling slightly more human. I crept out of my bedroom and down the long hallway, pushing the door at the end open and walking inside. The passage felt completely different this time, now that I knew of all the things that had happened in here. All the kisses at midnight, the secret liaisons, the writing of letters. This passage held so much more meaning for me. I stopped walking for a moment and closed my eyes—listening, wondering if I could hear the echo of what had happened here, a soft whisper from the past. I touched the wall; it was cold, but I could imagine that, at some point, warm bodies would have been pressed up against it in passion.
I smiled to myself. This story was becoming so much more to me thanjusta book. The more I read his letters and her diary, the more they crept into my heart. I could picture their faces so clearly. I could picture their clothes, their voices as they whispered sweet nothings to each other. I opened my eyes again and looked around, feeling a sudden sense of loss. Would I ever have a place like this? A person like him? Someone that loved me, for me? When I was younger, I had longed to be a part of a family. And, as I became a little older and more aware that you could create your own family, I had longed to find someone and get married, to have babies and a wonderful life of my own, with a family I could call mine. Little did I know that, as I got older, I would also develop this uncanny ability to choose the wrong men. I would find it hard to mingle with people, or make meaningful connections with them . . .although. . .
It hadn’t felt that way with Mike. It had felt so surprisingly easy and effortless. There had been this strange connection, from the moment we’d met, that I couldn’t quite explain. Mind you, most of the things that had happened over these last few days defied explanation—well, defied any explanation that made sense, that wasn’t rooted in some esoteric,the-universe-is-doing-thiskind of thinking.
I continued down the dark, dingy passage and pushed the door at the end open as slowly and silently as possible. I walked to where Ash had said the library would be and slowly opened the door. I knew that Mike was close to me, now, sleeping. It felt strange being this close to him, and yet so far away. Being so near him, without him knowing I was there. I hoped it would stay that way.
I stepped inside the library and closed the door behind me as quietly as possible. I flicked on the lights and looked around. It was incredible. Exactly as I’d imagined an old library to be: dark wood paneling, the dusty, musty smell of old books hanging in the air. Old, frayed Persian rugs covered the floor; large, brown leather couches surrounded an old stone fireplace; there was a huge mahogany desk with old papers on it that looked as if they’d never been touched, and, in the center of the desk, a large bust of a man I didn’t recognize. But the most striking thing about the library was the wall of books, with one of those cool ladders that slides from left to right. I could imagine Edith in this library, slipping her favorite book back on to the shelf after reading her favorite quote from it . . .
We are all fools in love.
It was one of the most famous lines fromPride and Prejudice, and I don’t know why I hadn’t seen it immediately. The wordfooland the heart inside the infinity symbol that had been carved on to the tree were a clear reference to it. I scanned the wall for the book, and when I couldn’t see it anywhere, I started climbing the ladder. I’d recently proved to myself that I wasn’t good at climbing fences; I just hoped I was a little better at ladders.
I climbed the ladder carefully. It was so dusty, it was slippery. Also, my nose was starting to tickle and I could feel a sneeze coming on. This was the last thing I needed to happen, now, especially considering the last time I’d sneezed had basically caused an international incident. And then, suddenly, one of the rungs shook. I wobbled a little, but managed to hold on. With my current streak of strange luck, though, I’d probably fall and break a bone. At least I was touching wood!
“Please, please, please!” I whispered at the ladder, begging it to stay intact for a little longer. “If you don’t break, I promise I will dust you when I’m done,” I said, feeling slightly mad that I was trying to communicate with this inanimate object. I climbed higher and higher and finally reached the top shelf.
I started scanning for the book, where (hopefully) I would find a gold mine of letters. My eyes drifted from one spine to the next, and then . . .
I stopped. My eyes scanned the words; I read them twice, just to make completely sure I was right. There it was.Pride and Prejudice. It was staring at me, beckoning me to just reach out and take it. My fingers tingled as I reached for it. They were practically on fire as I wrapped them around the book and pulled. I was so excited, so eager to peer inside that I didn’t wait to get down. Instead, I opened it right there and then, and, when I did, disappointment wracked my body. Nothing! Without thinking, I stamped my foot and—shit—that’s when disaster struck.
I looked down just in time to see my foot crash through the rung, splinters shattering and wood snapping. I started to fall. I yelled as I plummeted and then, in one hard, loud thump, I hit the floor. I winced in pain as I climbed to my hands and knees, grateful that I wasn’t too hurt. And then I heard a noise. Footsteps descending the staircase. The door handle starting to turn. I stared in horror as Mike burst through the door. Then I heard another noise and looked up as books began to fall from the shelf, pummeling me like falling baby elephants. I felt an explosion of pain on my head. I closed my eyes momentarily as the pain kicked inside my skull like a drum. But my eyes flicked open again when I heard him.
“You! What the hell are you . . . ? Becca, I mean . . . what?! How . . . ? Why . . . ? Becca, WHAT?”
I looked up at him as he stuttered away, clearly trying to make sense of this moment. Why was I, the girl he’d personally driven out of town, now on her hands and knees in his library? He pointed at me, his face going ashen white.
“What?” I asked, raising my hand to my head in alarm. I felt wetness and pulled my fingers away. They were coated in blood. “Blood,” I said, suddenly thinking about the woman in the elevator . . .I hoped she was okay.
“Sam!” I heard a shout from behind Mike; it was Ash, and she was looking at me with horror.
“Sam?” Mike asked.
I tried to shrug, but my head hurt like hell.
Ash slapped her brother on the arm. “What the hell are you just standing here for? We need to get her to the hospital. Come, come.” She rushed to my side and started pulling me up. She shouted over her shoulder, “For God’s sake, Mike, what are you doing? Help Sam.” She was already pulling me to my feet.
“Sam?” he asked again, like a stuck record.
“Yes, Sam. The guest I was telling you about.”
I was on my feet now, feeling dizzy and somewhat peculiar around the edges.
“What are you doing here?” Mike looked at me.
“For God’s sake, bro. Comeon. I told her she could use the library. MIKE!” she shouted, and that was it. Suddenly, he was also at my side, clutching my arm, both of them pulling me out of the room.
“Get her to the car,” Ash said quickly.
“I’m okay. I’m okay.” I protested, backing away from them both and trying to wiggle free of their grip.
“You are not okay. You have blood running down your face!” She looked at me firmly and then turned to Mike, as if she wanted him to confirm this.
He nodded. “I think we should get you to the hospital,” he said.Did I detect a slight hint of panic in his voice?
“Bloody right we’re getting you to a hospital,” Ash said forcefully.
We exited the house and I was quickly put in the car again—the police car. Ash had insisted on it and had also insisted that Mike put on the lights and sirens, since the hospital was all the way in the next town.
“Jesus—drive a little faster.” Ash hit the back of Mike’s seat as we drove out of Willow Bay. Clearly, this town was too small for things like hospitals and real jail cells.
I looked to the front and caught Mike’s eyes in the rear-view mirror. They seemed to be filled with something—questions, I was guessing. He probably had a lot of questions for me, right now—questions I wasn’t sure I would even be able to answer. Our eyes locked again and something surged inside me. This time, it wasn’t the feelings I’d had before; now, it was guilt, and it was the worst feeling in the world. I’d promised him I wouldn’t come back to town, and yet here I was, in his car again. He gave his head a tiny shake and looked away, as if disappointed in me. After that, I sat quietly in the back and looked out the window until we finally arrived.
