I try to look happy about this because I am happy about it. If I’m not happy then I’m the kind of guy who cares more about his ego than he does about his best friend. And I’m not that guy.
‘The kiss must have been good, though. If it made her miss Joel,’ I say.
‘Or, incredibly bad,’ Lola says. ‘But I can’t answer either way because the quality of the kiss was not discussed.’ She writes an address on a piece of paper. ‘Justin Kent’s having a party this coming Friday. Hiroko and I are playing what will be our third-to-last gig. Invite Rachel. She needs cheering up.’
Easier said than done, I think, and go back to my watching.
By the Friday of the party, I’m deeply confused.
Every day of this week I’ve been friendly to Rachel and every day I’ve expected Rachel to turn back into her old self. But every day she’s arrived at work and walked past me, straight over to the Letter Library. She doesn’t take a break till lunch, when she disappears for half an hour. She doesn’t go to Frank’s. I know, because I’ve gone in to look for her.
Everyone in the bookshop has been going out of their way to be friendly to her this week – asking questions about her mum, about Cal, about the ocean, about Year 12 – but she cuts us all off, saying she has work to do.
I buy her coffee. I read interesting science articles to her while she’s working. I don’t once tell her how tired I am of listening to her complain about the Letter Library. This weird thing happens where I’m missing Rachel while she’s standing right next to me.
‘She’s upset about her ex-boyfriend, apparently,’ I say to Martin and George on Friday afternoon. ‘But that changes tonight. We’re going to Justin Kent’s party. All of us,’ I say, pointing at George and Martin. ‘It’s a work outing.’
‘Am I getting paid?’ George asks.
‘No.’
‘Then I’m not going.’
Martin laughs.
‘Your break’s over,’ she tells him. ‘Get back to work.’
Martin’s been having his own girl trouble this week. If he’s lucky, he gets the silent treatment from George. If he’s not, she’s ordering him around and timing his breaks.
‘We don’t pay enough to time breaks,’ I reminded her on Wednesday, and she reminded me back that Martin is on trial and she’s his boss, so I should stay out of it.
Strangely, Martin seems to be enjoying his interactions with George. There’s nothing she can do that he doesn’t find funny or weird but, on the whole, likable. No matter how many knockbacks she gives him, he keeps trying.
‘What are you reading?’ he asks this afternoon.
‘Kafka’s Metamorphosis,’ George says, without looking up.
‘And what’s it about?’
‘Guy turns into a giant bug and eventually dies.’
‘Not exactly life-affirming,’ Martin observes.
‘Life isn’t exactly life-affirming,’ George says.
‘How have you been able to read so many books?’ he asks, and she looks up from Kafka, her thumb marking the page. ‘I’m a weird girl in high school. I’ve had some time to kill.’
She stands and Ray Bradbury jumps from her lap to Martin’s. He scratches him behind the ears and Ray starts purring. ‘Traitor,’ George says, and leaves to sit in Frank’s for a while.
‘You think she’ll come to the party tonight?’ Martin asks, and I tell him I know she will. I don’t tell him I know because Mum stopped by during the week and saw how George was treating him and threatened to dock her pay if she didn’t start making him feel welcome.
I’ve had a lot of conversations with Martin this week and most of them have had something to do with George. The more we talk, the more I warm to him. He’s seen George at her worst, and he likes her. ‘She’s funny,’ he said the other day while I was helping him with the cataloguing. ‘Funny. Smart. Original.’
These are good reasons to like George. These are her best qualities.
What he and George need is some time outside of the shop to get to know each other. Rachel and I need that too. Three years have passed, and I think the problem is we need to connect again.
‘We need to get to know our new selves,’ I tell her this afternoon, when I walk over to remind her about the party. The old Rachel loved parties but this new one reacts more like George.
‘I have to work tonight. I have to do the hugely insane job your dad has given me. I think he’s having a midlife crisis. Not only does he want me to alphabetise all of the books, and not only does he want a record of all of the books in the library, he also wants a record of anything loose inside the books, like letters, and a record of any notations in the margins.’
This isn’t the first time this week Rachel’s said something like this to me and until now I’ve avoided having an argument with her. But this afternoon my patience with this new Rachel is running out and I want the old Rachel to make an appearance.
‘You love things like this. You live for them.’
‘You think I live for mind-numbingly boring, never-ending tasks?’
‘Yes. You loved memorising the periodic table when you were a kid.’
‘The periodic table lists all the elements existing on the earth. There’s a point to the periodic table. There’s no point to this library. This library is the definition of pointless, Henry.’
‘Okay, enough,’ I say. ‘More than enough. You’ve been in a bad mood all week and I feel the need to point out that I am heartbroken too and I need some cheering up. I need my best friend back and I need her to come with me to a party tonight.’
She starts arguing, but I won’t take no for an answer. ‘Leave now, and be back at the bookshop by nine. You need to drive George because I want you to talk to her about Martin on the way. I want to know what she’s thinking.’
‘She’s thinking you should butt out of her life, Henry,’ she says, packing up her computer and her things and leaving without saying she’ll come.
I wave at her through window as she’s getting into her car. She waves her middle finger back.
‘We’re all set,’ I tell Martin before he leaves. ‘Yep. I have a great feeling about tonight.’
Pride and Prejudice and Zombies
by Jane Austen and Seth Grahame-Smith
Letters left between pages 74 and 75
15 January 2016
Dear George
I’m looking forward to going to the party tonight. I think it’ll be fun.
Martin
P.S. I like the idea of the Letter Library.
Martin
Never write to me in this book again.
George
Dear George
It’s lovely to get your reply. You’re as charming in print as you are in person. Why can’t I write to you in this book? I see you checking it all the time.
Martin
Martin
I check it because I write to someone else in this book. It’s our book. Not your book.
George
Dear George
Can I write to you in another book? We work together. I’d like to be friends. Please? It’s a LONG day, cataloguing all the books in the store. I’m typing out the names of EVERY SINGLE BOOK here. No matter what you think I’ve done (what have I done to you?) it can’t be so bad as to make me do this with NO relief.