As Jemma pulled the last book from the shelf, her phone buzzed and buzzed. She took it from her pocket, and as the screen filled with the messages that had been held back for so long, her eyes filled with tears. She blinked hard, and put her phone away. I can catch up with it all later.
‘Did it work?’ asked Raphael, when she returned.
‘Yes,’ she said, sitting at the computer. ‘I’ll keep looking.’
Raphael turned back to Maddy. ‘You’re sure there’s nothing else you can tell us, Maddy?’
‘I don’t think so,’ said Maddy. ‘Except that Brian invited his friends here in the evenings, and he was always very smug and energetic the next day. He’d say bookselling ought to be more strictly regulated, and we needed more rules. I generally humoured him.’
‘I don’t believe it,’ murmured Jemma. ‘I’ve just found loads of books on financial mismanagement sandwiching the business section. No wonder it’s been so hard to get the shop to make a decent profit.’ She stood up.
‘Wait,’ said Raphael. ‘Maddy, do you know where Brian is?’
‘No,’ said Maddy. ‘Sorry.’
‘You’re sure?’
‘Yes, I’m sure. His letters aren’t postmarked, and he said before he went that if he had to leave, he’d go where no one could find him.’
Raphael sighed. ‘Thank you, Maddy.’ He looked at the others. ‘I’m going to bring Maddy round. Keep holding her hand, Luke.’ He leaned forward. ‘Maddy,’ he said, gently. ‘You’ve helped us a great deal, and I know you’ve done your best. When I wake you up, that will end Brian’s hold over you. If you ever receive another letter from him, don’t open it. Give it to Jemma, or me. Do you understand?’
‘I understand.’
‘And will you do as I ask?’
‘Yes.’
‘Good,’ said Raphael. ‘Maddy, Brian is no longer your employer, and he has no hold over you.’ He paused. ‘It’s time for you to wake up.’
Maddy’s eyes pinged open. She stared at Raphael, then at her surroundings, and her eyes grew rounder and rounder. She took in the piles of books by the door and put a hand to her mouth. ‘Did I do that?’ she asked, in a shocked whisper.
‘Yes,’ said Jemma, ‘but you couldn’t help it. I understand now. I’m so sorry, Maddy.’
Maddy blinked at her. Her shoulders tensed, then suddenly she was shaking with sobs. ‘It was him, wasn’t it?’ she cried, between gulps and wails. ‘He said you’d lower the bookshop’s standards and corrupt me, and that he’d stop you if it was the last thing he did! He said that the happiest day of his life would be when he read your obituary in the Bookseller’s Companion. I told him how wrong those thoughts were, but—’
Luke moved closer and put his arms around her. ‘Don’t worry, Maddy, it’s all right,’ he murmured. ‘You’re free of him now. We’ll make sure he can never do this to you or anyone else ever again.’ He looked at Raphael. ‘Won’t we?’
‘Yes,’ said Raphael, rather uncertainly. ‘Yes, we shall.’
‘But how?’ said Jemma. ‘We don’t know where he is.’
‘I can guess,’ said Raphael. ‘He’s barred from Westminster, and he won’t be able to bear being far from books.’ He sat up straight. ‘Luke, stay here, look after Maddy, and mind the bookshop until we get back. Jemma and I must track Brian down and finish this.’
‘Where are we going?’ said Jemma. ‘Do I need to pack?’
Raphael grinned. ‘Perhaps a coat. We’re going to the town of books: Hay-on-Wye.’
Chapter 19
‘This will take hours,’ said Jemma, gazing at the maps app on her phone. ‘I know London was quiet, but it’s such a long way to the Welsh border. The bookshops will probably be closed by the time we get there.’
‘Don’t you worry about that,’ said Raphael. ‘Gertrude’s got a good turn of speed when she puts her mind to it.’
‘Yes,’ said Jemma, ‘I gathered.’ She had found herself clinging to the handle above the passenger door as Raphael navigated the back streets of London, twisting this way and that until she felt dizzy and nauseous. No hairpin was too tight for Gertrude, no alley too narrow. ‘Out of interest, Raphael, have you ever been stopped by the police when you’re out in Gertrude?’
‘Nope,’ said Raphael. ‘But if you distract me by talking too much, there’s always a first time.’
Jemma subsided into silence, and tried to relax as Raphael took the slip road to the motorway. I do hope he’ll observe the speed limit. That was a minor worry compared to what would happen once they got to Hay-on-Wye. Would they be able to find Brian? And if so, what then?
She had thought Raphael would at least pack books for the journey, in case of another battle of knowledge. However, all he had brought was an overcoat, a multicoloured stripy scarf, a flask of coffee, and a bag of cinnamon buns. ‘The essentials,’ he said, passing the flask and the buns to Jemma. ‘We may not be able to stop for lunch.’
At the last minute he had run up to his flat, and come out holding a small, strange contraption which Jemma thought she had seen on his shelves. It was made of metal, covered in black enamel, and featured several intersecting cogs and a handle. Jemma had no idea what it was for, and she really didn’t want to ask. She remembered Raphael and Brian’s previous confrontation, when she had been convinced that Raphael had lost, and fretted. What if Brian’s powers had grown? What if his enchantments had affected Raphael’s powers?
Suddenly Gertrude shot forward, and Jemma’s back pressed into her seat. Jolted out of her thoughts, she stared at the road ahead, which was advancing at a ridiculous speed. ‘Slow down, Raphael!’ she cried. ‘We’ll get pulled over! Or we could die!’
‘Don’t know what you mean,’ said Raphael. ‘I’m doing a steady seventy, and the conditions are perfect.’
‘I know what seventy miles an hour feels like,’ said Jemma, through gritted teeth, ‘and this is not it.’ A police car pulled alongside. ‘See, I told you.’
Raphael raised a hand to the police officer in the passenger seat, who waved back. The police car pulled ahead of them, indicated, and moved into the exit slip road. ‘See? Nothing to worry about,’ said Raphael.
‘Have we got any cinnamon rolls left?’ asked Jemma.
‘Yes, plenty,’ said Raphael. ‘Would you like one? It might take your mind off things.’
‘Not right now,’ said Jemma. ‘But I may need the bag.’ She pointed at the speedometer, whose needle pointed at the number 70. ‘Is that thing working?’
‘Oh yes,’ said Raphael. ‘We are doing seventy. It’s just that the motorway happens to be doing sixty-five in the opposite direction.’
Jemma closed her eyes. ‘That makes me feel so much better.’
‘Oh good,’ said Raphael. ‘If you don’t mind, we’d better stop chatting so that I can concentrate on the road.’