๎ขe shelves of the Midnight Library were quite still again, as if their movement had never even been a possibility.
Nora sensed they were in a di๏ฌerent portion of the library now โ not a di๏ฌerent room as such, as there seemed to be only one in๏ฌnitely vast room. It was di๏ฌcult to tell if she really was in a di๏ฌerent part of the library as the books were still green, though she seemed closer to a corridor than where she had been. And from here she could see a glimpse of something new through one of the stacks โ an o๏ฌce desk and computer, like a basic makeshi๎ย open-plan o๏ฌce positioned in the corridor between the aisles.
Mrs Elm wasnโt at the o๏ฌce desk. She was sat at a low wooden table right there in front of Nora, and she was playing chess.
โIt was di๏ฌerent to how I imagined,โ said Nora.
Mrs Elm looked like she was halfway through a game.
โItโs hard to predict, isnโt it?โ she asked, looking blankly in front of her as she moved a black bishop across the board to take a white pawn. โ๎ขe things that will make us happy.โ
Mrs Elm rotated the chessboard through one hundred and eighty degrees.
She was, it appeared, playing against herself.
โYes,โ said Nora. โIt is. But what happens to her? Toย me? How does she end up?โ
โHow do I know? I only know today. I know a lot about today. But I donโt know what happens tomorrow.โ
โBut sheโll be there in the bathroom and she wonโt know how she got there.โ
โAnd have you never walked into a room and wondered what you came in for? Have you never forgotten what you just did? Have you never blanked out or misremembered what you were just doing?โ
โYes, but I was there for half an hour in that life.โ
โAnd that other you wonโt know that. She will remember what you just did and said. But as if she did and said them.โ
Nora let out a deep exhale. โDan wasnโt like that.โ
โPeople change,โ said Mrs Elm, still looking at the chessboard. Her hand lingered over a bishop.
Nora re-thought. โOr maybe he was like that and I just didnโt see it.โ โSo,โ wondered Mrs Elm, looking at Nora. โWhatย areย you feeling?โ
โLike I still want to die. I have wanted to die for quite a while. I have carefully calculated that the pain of me living as the bloody disaster that is myself is greater than the pain anyone else will feel if I were to die. In fact, Iโm sure it would be a relief. Iโm not useful to anyone. I was bad at work. I have disappointed everyone. I am a waste of a carbon footprint, to be honest. I hurt people. I have no one le๎. Not even poor old Volts, who died because I couldnโt look a๎er a cat properly. I want to die. My life is a disaster. And I want it to end. I am not cut out for living. And there is no point going through all this. Because I am clearly destined to be unhappy in other lives too.ย ๎ขat is just me. I add nothing. I am wallowing in self-pity. I want to die.โ
Mrs Elm studied Nora hard, as if reading a passage in a book she had read before but had just found it contained a new meaning. โWant,โ she told her, in a measured tone, โis an interesting word. It means lack. Sometimes if we ๏ฌll that lack with something else the original want disappears entirely. Maybe you have a lack problem rather than a want problem. Maybe there is a life that you really want to live.โ
โI thought that was it.ย ๎ขe one with Dan. But it wasnโt.โ
โNo, it wasnโt. But that is just one of your possible lives. And one into in๏ฌnity is a very small fraction indeed.โ
โEvery possible life I could live has me in it. So, itโs not really every possible life.โ Mrs Elm wasnโt listening. โNow, tell me, where do you want to go now?โ
โNowhere, please.โ
โDo you need another look atย ๎ปe Book of Regrets?โ
Nora scrunched her nose and gave a minute shake of her head. She remembered the feeling of being su๏ฌocated by so much regret. โNo.โ
โWhat about your cat? What was his name again?โ
โVoltaire. It was a bit pretentious, and he wasnโt really a pretentious cat, so I just called him Volts for short. Sometimes Voltsy, if I was feeling jovial. Which was rare, obviously. I couldnโt even ๏ฌnalise a name for a cat.โ
โWell, you said you were bad at having a cat. What would you have done di๏ฌerently?โ
Nora thought. She had the very real sense that Mrs Elm was playing some kind of game with her, but she also wanted to see her cat again, and not simply a cat with the same name. In fact, she wanted it more than anything.
โOkay. Iโd like to see the life where I kept Voltaire indoors.ย Myย Voltaire. Iโd like the life where I didnโt try and kill myself and where I was a good cat owner and I didnโt let him out onto the road last night. Iโd like that life, just for a little while.ย ๎ขat life exists, doesnโt it?โ
