Page 18 of Oleander

My mouth fell open.

It was a library straight from a picture book about what libraries should look like. Rows of books from floor to ceiling, a second mezzanine wrapped around the room’s upper part, and which appeared to be accessed via an iron spiral staircase. Behind the staircase to the mezzanine was a little reading nook. A pair of leather couches faced each other in the centre of the room, with a table covered with more books. Two large arched windows on one side of the room provided light, both with comfortable-looking window seats at their bases.

I had an image of Caspien curled up in one, his slippers kicked off and his hair pulled up, and I got a rush of something hot in my chest. Jealousy, I told myself.

“This is...crazy.”

“You like it?”

“It’s awesome, Lord Deveraux.”

“If you’re going to be living here, Jude, I really mustinsistyou call me Gideon. All this lord nonsense makes me feel like my father.”

“Okay...Gideon.” It felt strange, but I would get used to it.

“Much better.” Gideon beamed, moving into the library. He swept his hand out. “Now, these are all very old books; some have been in our family for years, but this section here is more modern, though Seraphina was more interested in romance and ghost stories. I’m not sure you’ll find anything to your liking here either.” This was the second mention of Seraphina today and I realised with a shock that this had to be Caspien’s mother.

He gestured toward a few low shelves of books beneath one of the windows. “These were her favourites.” He turned to me. “How about you make a list of books and authors you like, and I can order some in and update these shelves a little? I would ask Caspien what is popular amongst teenagers, but he reads Russian and French Literature almost exclusively, and there’s plenty of that here already.”

Russian and French literature. Of course, he bloody did.

“I suppose it’s all Harry Potter?” Gideon checked.

I lifted my book to show him what I was reading. “I don’t like Harry Potter much,” I said.

“George Orwell, huh? Well, there might be some of his here somewhere. In any case, I’m more than happy for you to come up here and use this place whenever you want once you’re all in the cottage. It doesn’t see nearly enough use these days, like most of the rooms in this house, sadly.”

It was a generous offer. This was the biggest library I’d ever seen. I could lose hours in here quite happily. But there was oneissue: one blonde, Russian and French literature-reading issue. And I expected it would be enough to keep me away.

“Does Caspien use it?” I asked. I didn’t look at Gideon; instead, I cast my eyes along a row of books. I recognised none of the titles.

“When he’s home, sometimes. But mostly, he reads in his room.”

Caspien’s room. I tried to imagine it. I bet it didn’t have dirty socks and underwear lying around it. I bet it didn’t have sweet wrappers and a row of dirty glasses on the windowsill. He’d likely have a double bed too.

Almost immediately, I averted my thoughts in a completely different direction because I didn’t know why I was thinking about his bedroom or his bed.

“I can speak with Luke if you think he’ll have an issue with you spending time here without him,” Gideon said gently.

I turned to him. His eyes were kind and filled with understanding.

I think I knew what he was implying, but I couldn’t be certain. As it was, Luke liked Gideon and was one of the few folk on the island who didn’t think Gideon was a pervert.

I smiled. “He won’t.”

“I should speak with him anyway. Just to make sure. If you think you’ll use it, that is.”

I looked around the library again. Took a deep breath. The smell of leather, wood, and books was intoxicating. I imagined it in winter, with the fire lit in the large fireplace and the snow falling outside. It’s how I imagined the Bodleian library at Oxford to look.

How could I say no to it?

“I’ll definitely use it,” I said. “I’ll wait until school starts though, as I wouldn’t want to get in Caspien’s way. So when he’s gone back to school, I’ll definitely be here, a lot.”

“Oh, Caspien won’t be returning to Le Troyeux this term,” Gideon said.

My heart shuddered loudly. “What?”

“He’ll be studying here, at Deveraux, with a private tutor.” Gideon’s hand landed on my shoulder.