Читать книгу The Naughty Girls Book Club - Sophie Hart - Страница 11

‘Keyes … Marian Keyes …’ Gracie murmured under her breath as she paced round the library, trying to locate the right home for the copy of Rachel’s Holiday she was carrying.

Found it! She thought triumphantly, checking the reference number on the spine and slotting it in between Cathy Kelly and Sophie Kinsella.

She returned to the trolley she was pushing and picked out The Take by Martina Cole.

‘How are you getting on with those returns, Gracie?’ asked Simon, her manager.

‘Almost done,’ she told him cheerily, as she whizzed past him to the Crime and Thriller section, where she found one of the library’s regular patrons browsing the shelves. ‘Hello, Mr Harris.’

‘Hello, Gracie,’ replied the elderly gentleman. ‘Lovely day, isn’t it?’

‘It is indeed,’ she said happily. The sun was shining, the warm yellow light streaming in through the wide library windows. It was one of those glorious spring days when it felt like winter might finally be in retreat, and you started to believe that summer was on its way back.

‘Tell me, do you have the new Harlan Coben?’ Mr Harris enquired.

Gracie frowned. ‘That’s only just been released, so it might be another few days until we get it in. Would you like me to reserve it for you when it arrives?’

‘If you could, I’d very much appreciate it.’

‘No problem,’ Gracie beamed, making a mental note to do just that when she returned to the front desk. ‘In the meantime, have you read Long Dark Road by Alex Hayter? He’s a new author, very similar to Harlan Coben. I think you might enjoy it.’

Mr Harris took the novel from her and examined it, turning it over to read the back cover. ‘Thank you, Gracie. I like the look of this. Yes, I’ll definitely give it a whirl.’

‘We aim to please,’ Gracie grinned, as she set off once again.

Gracie had worked in Clifton library for almost five years now, and although she’d initially seen it as a stop-gap after university – something to tide her over until she got a ‘real’ job – she enjoyed it so much that she’d long since abandoned any ideas of moving on. Gracie loved the calm, steady pace of the library, the regular customers that she’d got to know, and the sense of being at the heart of the community, of organising speaker meetings and book readings with local authors. Unlike many of her friends who’d left Bristol to go to university and never returned, seduced by the bright lights of London or Manchester or Edinburgh, Gracie was content with her lot in life. Born and raised in Bristol, and now living in Clifton with her mother, as long as she had enough money to go out with her friends on a Saturday night, and treat herself to some new clothes now and again, she was quite satisfied.

At twenty-seven years old, she thought it might be nice to have a regular boyfriend, but a series of unsuccessful dates and a love of feminist literature had left her feeling that it wasn’t a necessity. Women didn’t even need men nowadays, after all – babies could be created in a test tube! Her own father had left when she was a toddler and was in and out of her life sporadically, occasionally remembering her birthday, or sending a card at Christmas. By and large, he was a waste of space. Gracie had grown up believing that men couldn’t be relied upon, and her mother, Maggie, had reinforced that view. Maggie had never remarried, and had impressed upon her only daughter the importance of self-reliance and financial independence from men. As such, Gracie had developed strong opinions that she wasn’t afraid to share, and had extremely high standards when it came to finding a boyfriend.

‘Ooh, that’s a lovely outfit, Gracie,’ she heard a voice say, as she passed through Contemporary Fiction.

‘Thank you, Mrs Jaworski,’ Gracie replied, as she turned and saw the small, Polish-born pensioner looking her up and down.

Gracie was wearing a fitted black pencil skirt, with a tight white blouse and oversized red belt, teamed with red patent kitten heels and seamed stockings. Her dark hair was loose, with a red silk handkerchief looped underneath and knotted on top.

‘You always look so nicely turned out,’ Mrs Jaworski was saying. ‘So many young people today just don’t make an effort, and the girls these days are always wearing jeans or trousers. It’s nice to see someone dressing like a lady for once.’

Gracie smiled to herself, wondering whether to engage Mrs Jaworski in a debate about a woman’s right to choose what she wanted to wear, and how it was only in the last century that it had become acceptable for women to even wear trousers in this patriarchal society. On reflection, she decided not to. ‘What are you reading today?’ she asked instead.

‘I’m looking for something different,’ Mrs Jaworski replied, her tone serious. ‘Tell me, have you read this Ten Sweet Lessons that everybody’s talking about?’

‘Yes, I have,’ Gracie nodded.

‘And what did you think?’

Gracie pulled a face. ‘I didn’t really like it, and I’m not sure it would be your kind of thing either. Maybe you should just stick with a nice Josephine Cox.’

‘I might be old, but there’s life in me yet,’ Mrs Jaworski chuckled. ‘I’d like to see what all the talk is about. It’s supposed to be very naughty, isn’t it?’

‘Very,’ Gracie emphasised. ‘It’s all handcuffs and candle wax. It doesn’t leave much to the imagination, let me tell you!’

Mrs Jaworkski’s eyebrows lifted so high they almost disappeared into her wiry grey hair.

‘Fascinating. Do you have it in stock?’

Gracie laughed, as she skimmed the shelves and found the last remaining copy. ‘Now don’t say I didn’t warn you,’ she teased, as she handed it over. ‘Is there anything else I can help you with today?’

‘Not now, thank you. I’ll carry on looking, and come to the desk when I’ve chosen everything.’

‘No problem. Just let me know.’

Gracie returned the last couple of books to their homes and made her way over to the counter. She tapped into the computer, making a note to reserve the new Harlan Coben for Mr Harris.

‘Are you busy, Gracie?’ asked Simon, who was officiously stamping a pile of books.

‘Almost finished,’ Gracie replied, as she hit the enter key and the ‘reserved’ notice popped up.

‘Great. When you’re done, could you go and help that gentleman over there? He’s looking a little lost.’

‘Which gentleman?’ Gracie asked in confusion.

‘The one with his back to us, wearing a grey coat.’

Gracie stared across the library and frowned. There was something very familiar about the man’s lean frame and messy brown hair, not to mention the battered satchel he was carrying. Gracie approached him slowly, an odd feeling in her stomach.

‘Excuse me,’ she began.

The man turned around, and his mouth dropped open in shock.

‘Reggie!’ Gracie exclaimed. ‘It is you.’

Reggie looked startled. ‘Hello, Grace,’ he began nervously.

‘It’s Grac-ie,’ she retorted, pursing her lips into a fine line. ‘What are you doing here? Making notes on us outside of the book club too?’

‘No, of course not,’ he replied, angry spots of colour appearing on his cheeks. ‘Besides, you’re the one who came over to say hello to me. I didn’t even see you.’

‘I work here,’ Gracie shot back. ‘My manager sent me over because he thought you looked like you needed some help.’

‘Oh, I see,’ Reggie replied, caught off-guard. ‘Well, I could do with some help actually. I … um … I can’t seem to find a copy of Lady Chatterley’s Lover.’

Gracie raised her eyebrows. ‘So you are planning to come to the next meeting?’

‘Yes, most probably. After all, it’s very important for my—’

‘For your thesis. Yes, you mentioned that,’ Gracie finished sarcastically, and Reggie blushed even deeper. ‘I’m afraid Lady Chatterley’s Lover isn’t in stock.’

‘How do you know without checking?’ Reggie shot back suspiciously, worrying that she was trying to fob him off.

Gracie tried hard to keep a straight face, but couldn’t hide her triumphant smile. ‘Because I’ve already borrowed it. Librarian’s privileges, you see. It means I get first dibs.’

Unable to help himself, Reggie began to laugh. ‘Well, I can’t compete with that, can I? I suppose I’ll have to buy it instead. Isn’t there a little bookshop around here? Bainbridge Books, or something like that?’

‘It closed down,’ Gracie told him glumly.

‘Right. Well, I’ll have to go to the big Waterstones in town. Or maybe I could look in the university library next time I’m in.’

‘I can check the system if you like,’ Gracie offered, taking pity on him. ‘See if it’s in stock in any other libraries nearby.’

‘Would you?’ Reggie asked gratefully. ‘That would be very useful.’

‘Of course.’

‘I used to have a copy,’ Reggie explained, as he followed her over to the main desk. ‘But I don’t know where it is now. It’s probably in a box somewhere at my parents’ house, with all the other books from my undergraduate degree.’

‘Did you study English?’ Gracie asked.

Reggie nodded.

‘Me too! I specialised in feminist writing. My thesis was on First Wave to Second Wave: Feminist Writing from Mary Wollstonecraft to Simone de Beauvoir.’

Reggie looked amused. ‘Now why doesn’t that surprise me?’ The words slipped out of his mouth almost before he realised what he was saying, and Gracie turned on him angrily.

‘There’s nothing wrong with having a little self-respect. Not all women are as pathetic and submissive as books like Ten Sweet Lessons imply.’

‘Ah, you weren’t a fan of that, were you?’ Reggie grinned, his eyes twinkling as he teased her.

‘Look, you can’t deny that books like Ten Sweet Lessons are a totally unrealistic representation of a male-female relationship,’ Gracie began hotly. ‘They offer an unhelpful stereotype that women – and men – simply can’t live up to.’

‘In what sense?’ Reggie challenged her.

‘In every sense!’ Gracie was becoming increasingly frustrated. ‘They imply that everything – in the bedroom – is going to be amazing, and sometimes it’s just not. I mean, you can’t just – you know – so easily and so frequently. Not every time,’ Gracie faltered, tying herself up in verbal knots and wishing she’d never started this rant.

‘It’s supposed to be a fantasy,’ Reggie continued, aware that he was infuriating Gracie, and enjoying watching her become increasingly animated. ‘Anyway, maybe some people can – you know – so easily and so frequently.’

‘Well I haven’t ever … like that,’ Gracie retorted, eager to win the argument, but revealing more about herself than she intended.

‘It’s all a question of chemistry. Maybe with the right person you could … It’s about buttons. Pushing them, I mean …’ Reggie finished awkwardly, jabbing at the air in a clumsy mime.

‘Great technique, Reggie,’ Gracie broke down in helpless giggles.

‘It’s not … I mean … That’s not what I do …’

‘Really?’ Gracie shot back, relishing the fact that the tables had turned, and Reggie was now the one squirming with embarrassment. ‘What do you do? Maybe you could outline your technique for us at the next book club meeting.’

Their voices were growing louder, and Gracie’s manager looked across sharply.

‘Gracie,’ he hissed. ‘It’s not very often that I have to tell the staff to be quiet, but you and your friend are disturbing people.’

‘Sorry Simon, I—’

‘And I’m not sure your conversation is entirely appropriate for the workplace either,’ he added pointedly.

Gracie caught Reggie’s eye and saw that he was trying not to laugh. It was impossible to keep a straight face, and soon they were both grinning naughtily at each other, like schoolchildren being told off by the headmaster. Gracie found herself wondering how on earth they’d ended up on this subject. The last person she’d have expected to be discussing sexual chemistry with was Reggie.

‘So do any other libraries have it?’ Reggie whispered, his eyes dancing as he leaned over, resting his elbows on the counter.

‘Have what?’

‘Lady Chatterley’s Lover.’

‘Oh, yeah, I’d forgotten about that!’ Gracie quickly typed in the title and squinted at the screen. ‘There are three copies in the central library. We can order one for you, and it’ll be here tomorrow after three, or I can reserve a copy and you can pop in yourself to collect it.’

‘Um …’ Reggie pondered the issue for a moment. ‘I’ll call in. I’ll be over that way this afternoon.’

‘Okay,’ Gracie nodded, feeling unexpectedly disappointed. ‘I’ll put it on hold and it’ll be there waiting for you.’

‘Great. Thanks, Gracie.’

‘No problem.’

‘Well … I guess I’ll see you at the next meeting.’

‘I guess you will. If you turn up, that is.’

‘Oh, I’ll turn up,’ Reggie insisted. ‘You lot aren’t so bad after all, you know.’

‘Oi!’ Gracie exclaimed, narrowing her eyes. ‘And don’t worry – I won’t tell everyone at Cafe Crumb about your appalling seduction technique,’ she smirked.

‘You’d better not, or else I’ll tell everyone I witnessed you being inappropriate in a library,’ Reggie returned, causing Gracie to giggle, and Simon to glare fiercely at them once more.

‘I’d better get back to work,’ Gracie whispered apologetically.

‘Okay. Oh, I might be a little late for the next meeting – I have a seminar that afternoon which is likely to overrun. Could you tell Estelle for me?’

‘Of course.’

‘Thank you.’

‘My pleasure.’

‘See you there then.’

‘Bye, Reggie.’

‘Bye, Gracie.’

Gracie watched him walk out of the door into the dazzling spring sunshine, and realised she was smiling.

Outside the library, as Reggie strolled down the path and back out onto the street, he found himself mentally replaying what had just happened.

His mind had been full of the research notes he needed to make today, and seminars that he thought it might be useful to attend, so his only thought when entering Clifton library had been to pick up a copy of Lady Chatterley’s Lover as quickly and as painlessly as possible.

Then he’d bumped into Gracie, and what had started out as a somewhat hostile encounter had quickly turned into something … what, exactly? Fun, Reggie supposed, the realisation taking him by surprise. ‘Fun’ and ‘Reggie’ were not words which usually went together.

But he’d enjoyed chatting with Gracie; he found her intelligent, sparky and challenging, and she’d made him feel the same. The way she’d teased him when they’d somehow ended up talking about the most outrageous of subjects … it was a long time since he’d laughed like that.

Reggie made his way towards the city centre, a spring in his step as he marched along. It was almost as though he’d made some kind of a breakthrough back there, managing to be self-assured and humorous – flirty, even. The sensation was all too rare, but he liked the person he became when he was relaxed and confident.

To Reggie’s surprise, he found himself fervently hoping that Gracie liked it too.