Page 44 of Two’s A Charm

‘Security’s tight on this place after hours,’ said Theo. Then he paused. ‘Wow, you look gorgeous.’

Effie swallowed as she tried to come up with a confident Bonnie-style response.

She knew she didn’t look terrible, because she’d styled her hair and put on a coat of mascara and a dash of rouge.

And even a soft-blur lipstick, which was about as close as she could get to a red lip without racing to the bathroom sink to wipe it off.

But gorgeous was an intimidatingly effusive compliment.

‘Thanks,’ she said finally. ‘You too.’

And he did, in his neat pants and the merino cardigan he wore over a simple T-shirt. (Maybe Tessa had been right to guide Effie away from the cardigans earlier, or they might have looked like twins.)

‘I brought you these,’ he said, passing her the paper bouquet, which she saw was crafted from book pages. ‘Don’t worry, the pages are from weeded books. That retired teacher showed me how to make them.’

Deeply aware of his presence, Effie led Theo over to one of the empty reading tables, where she’d set up a simple platter of snacks and baked goods.

‘From The Golden Hour?’ he asked, perusing the spread.

‘Home-made,’ she said shyly.

‘You are a woman of many talents,’ said Theo. ‘Mine’s store-bought. I hope you don’t mind.’

He plonked the shopping bag on the table, pulling out a bottle of Argentinian malbec, and a wide-ranging array of dips and pita.

‘Tonight, we feast,’ he said with a chuckle. He uncorked the wine, then frowned. ‘Damn, I forgot the cups. Do you have anything?’

Effie held up a finger and went off to the kitchen area, using her magic to quickly send two mugs flying across the room and into her waiting hands.

Alas, this type of catching finesse only extended to her own spells and not sports, or else she’d have enjoyed a full-ride scholarship to an Ivy playing Division-I sports.

‘“People Displeaser”, huh?’ Theo turned the purple mug in his hands as he filled it with wine.

‘I aim to displease.’ Effie took the mug and made a cheers with it.

She’d just realized what was on the mug she’d handed to Theo: Yes, I’m a librarian, and I’m checking you out.

The mug had been a joint gift from Mom and Bonnie for Effie’s birthday two years earlier. The two had thought it hilarious, and Effie had too, honestly. It was impossible to feel churlish when Mom was around. Even her teasing was good-natured.

Effie felt a pang. She couldn’t imagine Bonnie giving her such a gift now.

‘I didn’t realize you librarians were so saucy,’ said Theo, filling his own cup. ‘Cheers to that.’

Effie had never before in her life been called saucy. In fact, she’d never heard the word not followed by ‘wench’. But coming from Theo, it didn’t sound rude or debasing. It sounded charming. Sweet. Sexy.

‘Nice wine,’ said Effie, sipping from her mug.

‘Wait ’til you try the dips. They’re not my handiwork, so I won’t be offended if you don’t like them. Although I do make a mean hummus.’

Effie dipped a triangle of pita into a purple dip – baba ganoush. ‘Is that so?’

‘If it requires a blender or a food processor, I’m an unparalleled talent. My protein shakes are works of art.’

Effie chuckled. ‘I see. I’m a whiz with a skillet or a baking tin.’

Theo was making inroads with the hummus. ‘Yep, mine’s better. Cakes or cookies?’

‘I do both. I actually thought about going professional for a while there.’

‘With Bobby and his family?’

She shook her head, marvelling as her new curls bobbed about. ‘No, baking was a passion of my mom’s.’

Theo regarded her quietly as her voice hitched. Ah, so he knew about Mom. One good thing about small-town life was that you never had to share your own bad news; other people did it for you.

‘I think I wanted to share in it with her. In the end I figured there was enough competition. And transitioning something from a hobby to a job can be fraught.’

‘I understand,’ said Theo, sipping his wine. ‘I’m trying to figure that out for myself at the moment.’

His green-eyed gaze broke away from hers as he reached for a pastry. ‘Actually, I had a job offer,’ he continued. ‘Back in the city.’

Effie bumped her mug, almost knocking it over.

‘Are you thinking of taking it?’ she asked, as she mopped up the wine she’d sloshed with a napkin, dreading the response.

‘I’m not sure yet. The pay’s good, but it’s not something I’m particularly excited about. I’ve done the money-making thing. Now I think I’d like to do something more meaningful.’

Effie nodded, but as she went to respond, a thud behind her made her jump.

Right into Theo, who gently held her shoulders. ‘Are you okay?’

‘Did you hear that?’ she whispered.

The hair on the back of her neck was at attention, and not just from the tension between the two of them. Because on the heels of the thud had come a high-pitched wail.

‘The ghost,’ she whispered.

‘The ghost?’ Theo repeated. He frowned as he tried to make sense of this. ‘Do you mean that pirate guy you were talking about the other day?’

Effie’s new curls flicked as she shook her head. ‘No. You’re going to think I’m mad, but something weird has been going on. Strange noises. Flashing eyes. Books being scattered all over the place.’

Theo considered this. ‘But it can’t be a ghost, surely. It could be any number of things. But not a ghost.’

‘You sound so sure,’ said Effie, ‘but I’ve been Bonnie’s sister long enough to know that not everything is easily explained.’

‘Fair enough,’ said Theo, chuckling. ‘All right, ghost it is. I wish I’d brought my vacuum cleaner. I hear they do the trick. How about a heavy hardback or something? Just in case we need to whack it?’

‘Ghosts are incorporeal,’ Effie reminded him. Even though she had pulled the hardback-book-as-weapon move herself a few weeks back. ‘And I don’t appreciate your tone.’

‘I mean just in case it’s not a ghost. In case it’s real .’

‘Well, it’s obviously real,’ said Effie. ‘We’re both hearing it.’

‘You know what I mean!’ Theo blew air through his lips. ‘Do you do that on purpose? Twist my words?’

Effie’s eyes narrowed so much that her glasses prescription felt off. People were always accusing her of this, when all she wanted was clarity. Well then, don’t say stupid things , she wanted to say.

So this date was going well.

‘Come on,’ she whispered, trying to redeem herself. She crept stealthily through the book stacks, trying to pinpoint exactly where the sound had come from.

From above came a huge thud, as though a dozen books had slipped from the shelves and fallen to the floor.

‘It’s in the upstairs reading room,’ she decided.

With a fortifying breath, she headed for the curving stairwell that led up to the soaring space, one of her favourites in the library.

Theo at her heels, she picked her way up the stairs, squinting in the dim moonlight that filtered in through the stained-glass windows.

‘Now that I think of it, are we sure we want to be chasing a ghost?’ whispered Theo, catching at her arm. ‘What if it’s malevolent?’

Effie’s wrist sparked at the contact. Oh shit, not now. Not when she had a ghost to deal with. She focused her magic, pressing it deep down inside, hoping Theo hadn’t noticed her wrists glowing green.

But of course he had. How could you not notice being zapped by someone every time you touched them?

Theo drew back, surprised. ‘Wow, talk about sparks. That’s the second time that’s happened, you know.’

‘It’s these shoes,’ whispered Effie. ‘Static electricity. Don’t worry, ghosts are afraid of it.’

So she hoped. She’d only ever properly met one ghost: Jean Floyd, who hung out in the ballroom at the Toto Hotel.

Jean was quiet, and never bothered anyone.

She perched on the plush silver chair that no one at the hotel had the heart to move, waiting to be asked to dance.

Effie wasn’t the only one who’d seen her.

Maureen from the kitchen had mentioned seeing a young woman dressed as a flapper dancing the Charleston alone as she’d cleaned up after an event one night, and Sabine always commented on the strange energy in the room.

Effie didn’t know if Jean was the norm for ghosts, but she couldn’t imagine a library ghost being cruel. A library ghost would surely want to sit around reading and sipping cups of ghostly tea.

Effie swallowed. She was at the top of the steps now. Ahead of her was the moonstruck upper reading room, with its shelves and tables picked out by the gentle light of the night sky. The globe on the stand in the eastern corner spun slowly. Hopefully because of a draught.

‘Okay, I’m going in,’ she whispered.

‘I’m right behind you,’ murmured Theo, so close that she could feel her wrists glowing again. Dammit, magic, not now.

Tugging her sleeves further down her wrists, Effie tiptoed into the reading room, casting her gaze around for any sign of the poltergeist that had been rampaging through the jigsaw puzzles in the kids’ section and knocking the books off the returns trolley.

Hiss!

With a shriek, a dark blob scuttled past them, disappearing down the stairs.

‘Come on.’ Unthinking, Effie grabbed Theo’s hand as she hurried back down the stairs.

Downstairs was dim: the lights had blown. Effie wondered whether the glimmer of her magic earlier had done it. It wouldn’t be the first time, after all. And it was a more pleasant thought than the idea that the ghost might have done it.

But she didn’t have long to ponder the thought, for there was movement in the non-fiction stacks.

‘You take the 300s, and I’ll take the 400s,’ whispered Effie, creeping through the stacks.

She knew the room so well that even in the dim light she could navigate around without tripping over a stepladder or a reading chair.

Theo did not have this advantage, and she heard a few groans and moans as he bashed his shins into low shelves or sculpture plinths.

There!

From deep within one of the shelves, yellow eyes glowed.

Mrow!

The ghost was on the run once more. A vase tumbled to the floor, landing with a dull thud that Effie knew all too well. It was the unmistakable sound of something landing on the thick rug that covered the parquetry flooring found only in one section of the library.

‘It’s in large-print fiction,’ murmured Effie, grabbing Theo’s arm as he rounded the aisle ahead of her. Her wrists sparked once more, but she ignored it, hoping Theo was too preoccupied to notice that she was glowing like uranium glass.

The two of them raced towards the looming shelves, Effie grabbing a tablecloth from one of the reading tables on the way.

Mrow!

The shadowy apparition disappeared over the gap above the storeroom door at the back of the library’s main floor.

‘Okay, it’s trapped now,’ said Effie. ‘There’s no way out of there.’

‘I thought ghosts weren’t bound by things like walls and ceilings,’ whispered Theo.

Good point. Effie pulled out her huge ring of library keys, flipping through them as quietly as she could. Oh goddess, it was pointless.

‘Can you turn around for a second?’ she whispered. ‘I can’t open locks under pressure. It’s a whole thing.’

‘Um, sure.’ Theo sounded baffled, but he did as he was asked.

Shielding her wrist with one hand, she used her magic to pop the lock while feigning opening the door with her keys.

‘Just like magic,’ he said, turning back at her signal.

The storeroom was silent. Banker boxes and propped-up tables made a dark, angular skyline at the back of the room, and props from story time and seasonal displays bristled on chairs and stands at the front.

Effie stepped into the room, breathing as quietly as she could. Nothing.

Then at their feet, sudden movement.

‘It attacked me!’ howled Theo, grabbing at his leg. ‘The ghost has furry little paws! And sharp little claws!’

‘Furry little paws and sharp little claws?’ repeated Effie, mirth welling up inside her. All this for...

‘A cat,’ said Theo, wincing.

‘A cat,’ said Effie, piecing together all the clues from the past few weeks. The holes in the window screen, the flowers pushed from shelves, the scratching noises, the weird hacking sounds, the glowing golden eyes.

‘Well, it’s better than a ghost,’ Theo pointed out, rolling up his trouser leg to reveal several long slashes, as if a tiny Freddie Krueger had attacked him.

‘And fluffier,’ agreed Effie, laughing. Her laugh was interrupted by a tiny, high-pitched squeak, and then another. Kneeling, Effie ducked under the table, where atop a scarf from the lost property box, four tiny fluffy heads bobbed awkwardly.

‘Not just a cat,’ marvelled Effie, her heart swelling. ‘Kittens!’