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Chapter no 15 – ree Horseshoes

The Midnight Library

Nora was standing outside in crisp, clean air. But unlike in Bedford, it wasnโ€™t raining here.

โ€˜Where am I?โ€™ she whispered to herself.

๎ขere was a small row of quaint stone terraced houses on the other side of the gently curving road. Quiet, old houses, with all their lights o๏ฌ€, nestled at the edge of a village before fading into the stillness of the countryside. A clear sky, an expanse of dotted stars, a waning crescent moon.ย ๎ขe smell of ๏ฌelds.ย ๎ขe two-way twit-twoo of tawny owls. And then quiet again. A quiet that had a presence, that was a force in the air.

Weird.

She had been in Bedford.ย ๎ขen in that strange library. And now she was here, on a pretty village road. Without hardly even moving.

On this side of the road, golden light ๏ฌltered out of a downstairs window. She looked up and saw an elegantly painted pub sign creaking so๎‚ly in the wind. Overlapping horseshoes underneath carefully italicised words:ย ๎‚ปe

๎‚ปree Horseshoes.

In front of her, there was a chalkboard standing on the pavement. She recognised her own handwriting, at its neatest.

THE THREE HORSESHOES

Tuesday Night โ€“ Quiz Night

8.30 p.m.

โ€˜True knowledge exists in knowing that you know nothing.โ€™ โ€“ Socrates (a๎‚er losing our quiz!!!!)

๎ขis was a life where she put four exclamation marks in a row.ย ๎ขat was probably what happier, less uptight people did.

A promising omen.

She looked down at what she was wearing. A denim shirt with sleeves rolled halfway up her forearms and jeans and wedge-heeled shoes, none of which she wore in her actual life. She had goose-bumps from the cold, and clearly wasnโ€™t dressed to be outside for long.

๎ขere were two rings on her ring ๏ฌnger. Her old sapphire engagement ring was there โ€“ the same one she had taken o๏ฌ€, through trembles and tears, over a year ago โ€“ accompanied by a simple silver wedding band.

Crackers.

She was wearing a watch. Not a digital one, in this life. An elegant, slender analogue one, with Roman numerals. It was about a minute a๎‚er midnight.

How is this happening?

Her hands were smoother in this life. Maybe she used hand cream. Her nails shone with clear polish.ย ๎ขere was some comfort in seeing the familiar small mole on her le๎‚ย hand.

Footsteps crunched on gravel. Someone was heading towards her down the driveway. A man, visible from the light of the pub windows and the solitary streetlamp. A man with rosy cheeks and grey Dickensian whiskers and a wax jacket. A Toby jug made ๏ฌ‚esh. He seemed, from his overly careful gait, to be slightly drunk.

โ€˜Goodnight, Nora. Iโ€™ll be back on Friday. For the folk singer. Dan said heโ€™s a good one.โ€™

In this life she probably knew the manโ€™s name. โ€˜Right. Yes, of course.

Friday. It should be a great night.โ€™

At least her voice sounded like her. She watched as the man crossed the road, looking le๎‚ย and right a few times despite the clear absence of tra๏ฌƒc, and disappearing down a lane between the cottages.

It was really happening.ย ๎ขis was actually it.ย ๎ขis was the pub life.ย ๎ขis was the dream made reality.

โ€˜๎ขis is so very weird,โ€™ she said into the night. โ€˜So. Very. Weird.โ€™

A group of three le๎‚ย the pub then too. Two women and a man.ย ๎ขey smiled at Nora as they walked past.

โ€˜Weโ€™ll win next time,โ€™ one of the women said. โ€˜Yes,โ€™ replied Nora. โ€˜๎ขereโ€™s always a next time.โ€™

She walked up to the pub and peeked through the window. It seemed empty inside, but the lights were still on.ย ๎ขat group must have been the last to leave.

๎ขe pub looked very inviting. Warm and characterful. Small tables and timber beams and a wagon wheel attached to a wall. A rich red carpet and a wood-panelled bar full of an impressive array of beer pumps.

She stepped away from the window and saw a sign just beyond the pub, past where the pavement became grass.

Quickly, she trotted over and read what it said.

LITTLEWORTH

Welcomes Careful Drivers

๎ขen she noticed in the top centre of the sign a little coat of arms around which orbited the wordsย Oxfordshire County Council.

โ€˜We did it,โ€™ she whispered into the country air. โ€˜Weย actuallyย did it.โ€™

๎ขis was the dream Dan had ๏ฌrst mentioned to her while walking by the Seine in Paris, eating macarons they had bought on the Boulevard Saint-Michel.

A dream not of Paris but of rural England, where they would live together. A pub in the Oxfordshire countryside.

When Noraโ€™s mumโ€™s cancer aggressively returned, reaching her lymph nodes and rapidly colonising her body, that dream was put on hold and Dan moved with her from London back to Bedford. Her mum had known of their engagement and had planned to stay alive long enough for the wedding. She had died four months too soon.

Maybe this was it. Maybe this was the life. Maybe this was ๏ฌrst-time lucky, or second-time lucky.

She allowed herself an apprehensive smile.

She walked back along the path and crunched over the gravel, heading towards the side door the drunken, whiskery man in the wax jacket had recently departed from. She took a deep breath and stepped inside.

It was warm. And quiet.

She was in some kind of hallway or corridor. Terracotta ๏ฌ‚oor tiles. Low wood panelling and, above, wallpaper full of illustrations of sycamore leaves. She walked down the little corridor and into the main pub area which she had peeked at through the window. She jumped as a cat appeared out of

nowhere.

An elegant, angular chocolate Burmese purring away. She bent down and stroked it and looked at the engraved name on the disc attached to the collar.ย Voltaire.

A di๏ฌ€erent cat, with the same name. Unlike her dear beloved ginger tabby,

she doubted this Voltaire was a rescue.ย ๎ขe cat began to purr. โ€˜Hello, Volts Number Two. You seem happy here. Are we all as happy as you?โ€™

๎ขe cat purred a possible a๏ฌƒrmation and rubbed his head against Noraโ€™s leg. She picked him up and went over to the bar.ย ๎ขere was a row of cra๎‚ย beers on the pumps, stouts and ciders and pale ales and IPAs.ย Vicarโ€™s Favourite.ย Lost and Found.ย Miss Marple.ย Sleeping Lemons.ย Broken Dream.

๎ขere was a charity tin on the bar for Butter๏ฌ‚y Conservation.

She heard the sound of clinking glass. As if a dishwasher was being ๏ฌlled. Nora felt anxiety constrict her chest. A familiar sensation.ย ๎ขen a spindly twenty-something man in a baggy rugby top popped up from behind the bar, hardly giving any attention to Nora as he gathered the last remaining used glasses and put them in the dishwasher. He switched it on then pulled down his coat from a hook, put it on and took out some car keys.

โ€˜Bye, Nora. Iโ€™ve done the chairs and wiped all the tables. Dishwasherโ€™s on.โ€™ โ€˜Ah, thanks.โ€™

โ€˜Tillย ๎ขursday.โ€™

โ€˜Yes,โ€™ Nora said, feeling like a spy about to have her cover blown. โ€˜See you.โ€™

A moment a๎‚er the man le๎‚, she heard footsteps rising up from somewhere below, heading across the tiles she had just walked down, coming from the back of the pub. And then he was there.

He looked di๏ฌ€erent.

๎ขe beard had gone, and there were more wrinkles around his eyes, dark circles. He had a nearly ๏ฌnished pint of dark beer in his hand. He still looked a bit like a TV vet, just a few more series down the line.

โ€˜Dan,โ€™ she said, as if he was something that needed identifying. Like a rabbit by the road. โ€˜I just want to say I am so proud of you. So proud of us.โ€™

He looked at her, blankly. โ€˜Was just turning the chiller units o๏ฌ€. Got to clean the lines tomorrow. Weโ€™ve le๎‚ย it a fortnight.โ€™

Nora had no idea what he was talking about. She stroked the cat. โ€˜Right.

Yes. Of course.ย ๎ขe lines.โ€™

Her husband โ€“ for in this life, that was who he was โ€“ looked around at all the tables and upside-down chairs. He was wearing a fadedย Jawsย T-shirt. โ€˜Have Blake and Sophie gone home?โ€™

Nora hesitated. She sensed he was talking about people who worked for them.ย ๎ขe young man in the baggy rugby top was presumably Blake.ย ๎ขere didnโ€™t seem to be anyone else around.

โ€˜Yes,โ€™ she said, trying to sound natural despite the fundamental bizarreness of the circumstances. โ€˜I think they have.ย ๎ขey were pretty on top of things.โ€™

โ€˜Cool.โ€™

She remembered buying him theย Jawsย T-shirt on his twenty-sixth birthday. Ten years previously.

โ€˜๎ขe answers tonight were something else. One of the teams โ€“ the one Pete and Jolie were on โ€“ thought Maradona painted the Sistine ceiling.โ€™

Nora nodded and stroked Volts Number Two. As if she had any idea who on earth Pete and Jolie were.

โ€˜To be fair, it was a tricky one tonight. Might take them from another website next time. I mean, who actually knows the name of the highest mountain in the Kara-whatsit range?โ€™

โ€˜Karakoram?โ€™ Nora asked. โ€˜๎ขat would be K2.โ€™

โ€˜Well, obviously you know,โ€™ he said, a little too abruptly. A little too tipsily. โ€˜Itโ€™s the kind of thing you would know. Because while most people were into rock music you were intoย actual rocksย and stu๏ฌ€.โ€™

โ€˜Hey,โ€™ she said. โ€˜I was literally in a band.โ€™

A band, she remembered then, that Dan had hated her being in.

He laughed. She recognised the laugh, but didnโ€™t entirely like it. She had forgotten how o๎‚en during their relationship Danโ€™s humour hinged on other people, speci๏ฌcally Nora. When theyโ€™d been together, she had tried not to dwell on this aspect of his personality. Heโ€™d had so many other aspects โ€“ he had been so lovely to her mum when she was ill, and he could talk at ease about anything, he was so full of dreams about the future, he was attractive and easy to be around, and he was passionate about art and always stopped to chat to the homeless. He cared about the world. A person was like a city.

You couldnโ€™t let a few less desirable parts put you o๏ฌ€ย the whole.ย ๎ขere may be bits you donโ€™t like, a few dodgy side streets and suburbs, but the good stu๏ฌ€ย makes it worthwhile.

He had listened to a lot of annoying podcasts that he thought Nora should listen to, and laughed in a way that grated on her, and gargled loudly with mouthwash. And yes, he hogged the duvet and could occasionally be arrogant in his opinions on art and ๏ฌlm and music, but there was nothing overtlyย wrongย with him. Well โ€“ now that she thought about it โ€“ heโ€™d never been supportive of her music career, and had advised her that being inย ๎ขe Labyrinths and signing a music deal would be bad for her mental health, and that her brother was being a bit sel๏ฌsh. But at the time she had viewed that not so much as a red ๏ฌ‚ag but a green one. Her thinking was: he cared, and it was nice to have someone who cared, who wasnโ€™t bothered about fame and super๏ฌcialities, and could help navigate the waters of life. And so when he had asked her to marry him, in the cocktail bar on the top ๏ฌ‚oor of the Oxo Tower, she had agreed and maybe she had always been right to agree.

He stepped forward into the room, placed his pint down momentarily and was now on his phone, looking up better pub quiz questions.

She wondered how much he had drunk tonight. She wondered if the dream of owning a pub had really been a dream of drinking an endless supply of alcohol.

โ€˜What is the name of a twenty-sided polygon?โ€™

โ€˜I donโ€™t know,โ€™ Nora lied, not wanting to risk a similar reaction to the one sheโ€™d received a moment ago.

He put the phone in his pocket.

โ€˜We did well, though.ย ๎ขey all drank loads tonight. Not bad for a Tuesday.

๎ขings are looking up. I mean, thereโ€™s something to tell the bank tomorrow. Maybe theyโ€™ll give us an extension on the loan . . .โ€™

He stared at the beer in his glass, swilled it around a little, then downed it. โ€˜๎ขough Iโ€™ve got to tell A.J. to change the lunch menu. No one in Littleworth wants to eat candied beetroot and broad bean salad and corn cakes.ย ๎ขis isnโ€™t pissing Fitzrovia. And I know theyโ€™re going down well, but I

think those wines you chose arenโ€™t worth it. Especially the Californian ones.โ€™ โ€˜Okay.โ€™

He turned and looked behind him. โ€˜Whereโ€™s the board?โ€™ โ€˜What?โ€™

โ€˜๎ขe chalkboard.ย ๎ขought youโ€™d brought it in?โ€™ Soย thatย was what she had been outside for. โ€˜No. No. Iโ€™m going to do it now.โ€™

โ€˜๎ขought I saw you go out.โ€™

Nora smiled away her nerves. โ€˜Yes, well, I did. I had to . . . I was worried about our cat. Volts. Voltaire. I couldnโ€™t ๏ฌnd him so I went outside to look for him and then I found him, didnโ€™t I?โ€™

Dan was back behind the bar, pouring himself a scotch.

He seemed to sense she was judging him. โ€˜๎ขis is only my third. Fourth, maybe. Itโ€™s quiz night. You know I get nervous doing the compering. And it helps me be funny. And I was funny, donโ€™t you reckon?โ€™

โ€˜Yes. Very funny. Total funniness.โ€™

His face fell into a serious mode. โ€˜I saw you talking to Erin. What did she say?โ€™

Nora wasnโ€™t sure how best to answer this. โ€˜Oh, nothing much.ย ๎ขe usual stu๏ฌ€. You know Erin.โ€™

โ€˜๎ขe usual stu๏ฌ€? I didnโ€™t think youโ€™d ever spoken to her before.โ€™

โ€˜I meant the usual stu๏ฌ€ย that people say. Not what Erin says. Usual people stu๏ฌ€ย . . .โ€™

โ€˜Howโ€™s Will doing?โ€™

โ€˜Er, really well,โ€™ Nora guessed. โ€˜He says hi.โ€™ Danโ€™s eyes popped wide with surprise. โ€˜Really?โ€™

Nora had no idea what to say. Maybe Will was a baby. Maybe Will was in a coma. โ€˜Sorry, no, he didnโ€™t say hi. Sorry, Iโ€™m not thinking. Anyway, Iโ€™ll . . . go and get the board.โ€™

She put the cat down on the ๏ฌ‚oor and headed back out.ย ๎ขis time she noticed something she had missed on entering.

A framed newspaper article from theย Oxford Timesย with a picture of Nora and Dan standing outside theย ๎ขree Horseshoes. Dan had his arm around her. He was wearing a suit she had never seen before and she was in a smart dress she would never have worn (she rarely wore dresses) in her original life.

PUB OWNERS MAKE DREAM A REALITY

๎ขey had, according to the article, bought the pub cheaply and in a neglected state and then renovated it with a mix of a modest inheritance (Danโ€™s) and savings and bank loans.ย ๎ขe article presented a success story, though it was two years old.

She stepped outside, wondering whether a life could really be judged from just a few minutes a๎‚er midnight on a Tuesday. Or maybe that was all you needed.

๎ขe wind was picking up. Standing out on that quiet village street, the gusts pushed the board a little along the path, nearly toppling it over. Before she picked it up, she felt a buzz from a phone in her pocket. She hadnโ€™t realised it was in there. She pulled it out. A text message from Izzy.

She noticed that her wallpaper was a photo of herself and Dan somewhere hot.

She unlocked the phone using facial recognition and opened the message. It was a photo of a whale rising high out of the ocean, the white spray soaking the air like a burst of champagne. It was a wonderful photo and just seeing it caused her to smile.

Izzy was typing.

Another message appeared:

This was one of the pics I took yesterday from the boat.

And another:

Humpback mother

๎ขen another photo: two whales this time, their backs breaking the water.

With calf

๎ขe last message also included emojis of whales and waves.

Nora felt a warm glow. Not just from the pictures, which were indisputably lovely, but from the contact with Izzy.

When Nora backed out of her wedding to Dan, Izzy had insisted that she come to Australia with her.

๎ขeyโ€™d mapped it all out, a plan to live near Byron Bay and get jobs on one of the whale-watching boat cruises.

๎ขey had shared lots of clips of humpback whales in anticipation of this new adventure. But then Nora had wobbled and backed out. Just like she had backed out of a swimming career, and a band, and a wedding. But unlike those other things, there hadnโ€™t even been aย reason. Yes, she had started working at Stringย ๎ขeory and, yes, she felt the need to tend to her parentsโ€™ graves, but she knew that staying in Bedford was the worse option. And yet she picked it. Because of some strange predictive homesickness that festered alongside a depression that told her, ultimately, she didnโ€™tย deserveย to be happy.ย ๎ขat she had hurt Dan and that a life of drizzle and depression in her hometown was her punishment, and she hadnโ€™t the will or clarity or, hell, theย energyย to do anything.

So, in e๏ฌ€ect, she swapped her best friend for a cat.

In her actual life, she had never fallen out with Izzy. Nothing that dramatic. But a๎‚er Izzy had gone to Australia, things had faded between them until their friendship became just a vapour trail of sporadic Facebook and Instagram likes and emoji-๏ฌlled birthday messages.

She looked back through the text conversations between her and Izzy and realised that even though there was still ten thousand miles between them, they had a much better relationship in this version of things.

When she returned to the pub, carrying the sign this time, Dan was nowhere to be seen so she locked the back door and waited a while, in the pub hallway, working out where the stairs were, and unsure if she actually wanted to follow her tipsy sort-of husband up there.

She found the stairs at the rear of the building, through a door that saidย Sta๏ฌ€ย Only. As she stepped on the beige ra๏ฌƒa carpet heading towards the stairs, just a๎‚er a framed poster ofย ๎‚ปings You Learn in the Darkย โ€“ one of their favourite Ryan Bailey movies which they had watched together at the Odeon in Bedford โ€“ she noted a smaller picture on a sweet little window sill. It was their wedding photo. Black and white, reportage-style. Walking out of a church into a shower of confetti. It was di๏ฌƒcult to see their faces properly but they were both laughing and it was a shared laugh, and they seemed โ€“ as far as a photograph can tell you anything โ€“ to be in love. She remembered her mum talking about Dan. (โ€˜Heโ€™s a good one. Youโ€™re so lucky.

Keep hold of him.โ€™)

She saw her brother Joe too, shaven-headed and looking genuinely happy, champagne glass in hand and his short-lived, disastrous investment-banker boyfriend, Lewis, by his side. Izzy was there, and Ravi too, looking more like an accountant than a drummer, standing next to a bespectacled woman sheโ€™d never seen before.

While Dan was in the toilet Nora located the bedroom. Although they evidently had money worries โ€“ the nervous appointment with the bank con๏ฌrmed that โ€“ the room was expensively furnished. Smart window blinds. A wide, comfortable-looking bed.ย ๎ขe duvet crisp and clean and white.

๎ขere were books either side of the bed. In her actual life she hadnโ€™t had a book by her bed for at least six months. She hadnโ€™t readย anythingย for six months. Maybe in this life she had a better concentration span.

She picked up one of the books,ย Meditation for Beginners. Underneath it was a copy of a biography of her favourite philosopher, Henry David

๎ขoreau.ย ๎ขere were books on Danโ€™s bedside table too.ย ๎ขe last book she remembered him reading had been a biography of Toulouse-Lautrec โ€“ย Tiny Giant โ€“ย but in this life he was reading a business book calledย Zero to Hero: Harnessing Success in Work, Play and Lifeย and the latest edition ofย ๎‚ปe Good Pub Guide.

She felt di๏ฌ€erent in her body. A little healthier, a little stronger, but tense. She patted her stomach and realised that in this life she worked out a bit more. Her hair felt di๏ฌ€erent too. She had a heavy fringe, and โ€“ feeling it โ€“she could tell her hair was longer at the back. Her mind felt a little woozy. She must have had at least a couple of glasses of wine.

A moment later she heard the toilet ๏ฌ‚ush.ย ๎ขen she heard gargling. It seemed to be a bit noisier than necessary.

โ€˜Are you all right?โ€™ Dan asked, when he came into the bedroom. His voice, she realised, didnโ€™t sound like she remembered. It sounded emptier. A bit colder. Maybe it was tiredness. Maybe it was stress. Maybe it was beer. Maybe it was marriage.

Maybe it was something else.

It was hard to remember, exactly, what he had sounded like before. What he had been like, precisely. But that was the nature of memory. At university she had done an essay drily titled โ€˜๎ขe Principles of Hobbesian Memory and Imaginationโ€™.ย ๎ขomas Hobbes had viewed memory and imagination as

pretty much the same thing, and since discovering that she had never entirely trusted her memories.

Outside the window the streetlampโ€™s yellow glow illuminated the desolate village road.

โ€˜Nora? Youโ€™re acting strange. Why are you just standing in the middle of the room? Are you getting ready for bed or are you doing some kind of standing meditation?โ€™

He laughed. He thought he was funny.

He went over to the window and pulled the curtains.ย ๎ขen he took o๏ฌ€ย his jeans and put them on the back of a chair. She stared at him and tried to feel the attraction she had once felt so deeply. It seemed to require a Herculean e๏ฌ€ort. She hadnโ€™t expected this.

Everyoneโ€™s lives could have ended up an in๏ฌnite number of ways.

He collapsed heavily on the bed, a whale into the ocean. Picked upย Zero to Hero. Tried to focus. Put it down. Picked up a laptop by the bed, shoved an earphone into his ear. Maybe he was going to listen to a podcast.

โ€˜Iโ€™m just thinking about something.โ€™

She began to feel faint. As if she was only half there. She remembered Mrs Elm talking about how disappointment in a life would bring her back to the library. It would feel, she realised, altogether too strange to climb into the same bed with a man she hadnโ€™t seen for two years.

She noticed the time on the digital alarm clock. 12:23.

Still with the earphone in his ear, he looked at her again. โ€˜Right, listen, if you donโ€™t want to make babies tonight you can just say, you know?โ€™

โ€˜What?โ€™

โ€˜I mean, I know weโ€™ll have to wait another month until you are ovulating again . . .โ€™

โ€˜Weโ€™re trying for a baby? I want a baby?โ€™

โ€˜Nora, whatโ€™s with you? Why are you strange today?โ€™ She took o๏ฌ€ย her shoes. โ€˜Iโ€™m not.โ€™

A memory came to her, related to theย Jawsย T-shirt. A tune, actually. โ€˜Beautiful Skyโ€™.

๎ขe day she had bought Dan theย Jawsย T-shirt had been the day she had played him a song she had written forย ๎ขe Labyrinths. โ€˜Beautiful Skyโ€™. It was, she was convinced, the best song she had ever written. And โ€“ more than that โ€“ it was a happy song to re๏ฌ‚ect her optimism at that point in her life. It was a

song inspired by her new life with Dan. And he had listened to it with a shruggish indi๏ฌ€erence that had hurt at the time and which she would have addressed if it hadnโ€™t been his birthday.

โ€˜Yeah,โ€™ heโ€™d said. โ€˜Itโ€™s okay.โ€™

She wondered why that memory had stayed buried, only to rise up now, like the great white shark on his fading T-shirt.

๎ขere were other things coming back to her now too. His over-the-top reaction when sheโ€™d once told him about a customer โ€“ Ash, the surgeon and amateur guitar player who came into Stringย ๎ขeory for the occasional songbook โ€“ casually asking Nora if she wanted to go for a co๏ฌ€ee some time.

(โ€˜Of course I said no. Stop shouting.โ€™)

Worse, though, was when an A&R man for a major label (or rather, a boutique former indie label with Universal behind them) wanted to signย ๎ขe Labyrinths. Dan had told her that it was unlikely theyโ€™d survive as a couple. Heโ€™d also heard a horror story from one of his university friends whoโ€™d been in a band that signed to a label and then the label ripped them o๏ฌ€ย and theyโ€™d all become unemployed alcoholics or something.

โ€˜I could take you with me,โ€™ she said. โ€˜Iโ€™d get it in the contract. We could go everywhere together.โ€™

โ€˜Sorry, Nora. But thatโ€™sย yourย dream. Itโ€™s not mine.โ€™

Which hurt even more with hindsight, knowing how much โ€“ before the wedding โ€“ sheโ€™d tried to make his dream of a pub in the Oxfordshire countryside become her dream as well.

Dan had always said his concern was for Nora: sheโ€™d been having panic attacks while she was in the band, especially when she got anywhere near a stage. But the concern had been at least a little manipulative, now she thought about it.

โ€˜I thought,โ€™ he was saying now, โ€˜that you were starting to trust me again.โ€™ โ€˜Trust you? Dan, why wouldnโ€™t I trust you?โ€™

โ€˜You know why.โ€™

โ€˜Of course I know why,โ€™ she lied. โ€˜I just want to hear you say it.โ€™ โ€˜Well, since the stu๏ฌ€ย with Erin.โ€™

She stared at him like he was a Rorschach inkblot in which she saw no clear image.

โ€˜Erin?ย ๎ขe one I was speaking to tonight?โ€™

โ€˜Am I going to be beaten up for ever about one stupid drunken moment?โ€™

On the street outside, the wind was picking up, howling through trees as if attempting a language.

๎ขis was the life she had been in mourning for.ย ๎ขis was the life she had beaten herself up for not living.ย ๎ขis was the timeline she thought she had regretted not existing in.

โ€˜One stupid mistake?โ€™ she echoed. โ€˜Okay, two.โ€™

It was multiplying. โ€˜Two?โ€™

โ€˜I was in a state. You know, the pressure. Of this place. And I was very drunk.โ€™

โ€˜You had sex with someone else and it doesnโ€™t seem you have been seeking much . . . atonement.โ€™

โ€˜Seriously, why drag all this up? Weโ€™ve been through this. Remember what the counsellor said. About focusing on where we want to go rather than where we have been.โ€™

โ€˜Do you ever think that maybe we just arenโ€™t right for each other?โ€™ โ€˜What?โ€™

โ€˜I love you, Dan. And you can be a very kind person. And you were great with my mum. And we used to โ€“ I mean, weย haveย great conversations. But do you ever feel that we passed where we were meant to be?ย ๎ขat we changed?โ€™

She sat down on the edge of the bed.ย ๎ขe furthest corner away from him. โ€˜Do you ever feel lucky to have me? Do you realise how close I was to

leaving you, two days before the wedding? Do you know how messed up you would have been if I hadnโ€™t turned up at the wedding?โ€™

โ€˜Wow. Really? You have yourself in quite high esteem there, Nora.โ€™ โ€˜Shouldnโ€™t I? I mean, shouldnโ€™t everyone? Whatโ€™s wrong with self-esteem?

And besides, itโ€™s true.ย ๎ขereโ€™s another universe where you send me WhatsApp messages about how messed up you are without me. How you turn to alcohol, although it seems like you turn to alcoholย withย me too. You send me texts saying you miss my voice.โ€™

He made a dismissive noise, somewhere between a laugh and a grunt. โ€˜Well, right now, I am most de๏ฌnitely not missing your voice.โ€™

She couldnโ€™t get beyond her shoes. She found it hard โ€“ maybe impossible โ€“ to take o๏ฌ€ย another item of clothing in front of him.

โ€˜And stop going on about my drinking.โ€™

โ€˜If you are using drink as an excuse for screwing someone else, I can go on about your drinking.โ€™

โ€˜I am a country landlord,โ€™ sco๏ฌ€ed Dan. โ€˜Itโ€™s what country landlords do. Be jovial and merry and willing to partake in the many and manifold beverages we sell. Jeez.โ€™

Since when did he speak like this? Did he always speak like this?ย โ€˜Bloody hell, Dan. โ€˜

He didnโ€™t even seem bothered. To seem grateful in any way for the universe he was in.ย ๎ขe universe she had felt so guilty for not allowing to happen. He reached for his phone, still with his laptop on the duvet. Nora watched him as he scrolled.

โ€˜Is this what you imagined? Is the dream working out?โ€™ โ€˜Nora, letโ€™s not do this heavy shit. Just get to bloody bed.โ€™ โ€˜Are you happy, Dan?โ€™

โ€˜No oneโ€™s happy, Nora.โ€™

โ€˜Some people are. You used to be. You used to light up when you talked about this. You know, the pub. Before you had it.ย ๎ขis is the life you dreamed of. You wanted me and you wantedย thisย and yet youโ€™ve been unfaithful and you drink like a ๏ฌsh and I think you only appreciate me when you donโ€™t have me, which is not a great trait to have. What aboutย myย dreams?โ€™

He was hardly listening. Or trying to look like he wasnโ€™t. โ€˜Big ๏ฌres in California,โ€™ he said, almost to himself.

โ€˜Well, at least weโ€™re not there.โ€™

He put the phone down. Folded his laptop. โ€˜You coming to bed or what?โ€™

She had shrunk for him, but he still hadnโ€™t found the space he needed. No more.

โ€˜Icosagon,โ€™ she told him. โ€˜What?โ€™

โ€˜๎ขe quiz. Earlier.ย ๎ขe twenty-sided polygon. Well, a twenty-sided polygon is called an icosagon. I knew the answer but didnโ€™t tell you because I didnโ€™t want you to mock me. And now I donโ€™t really care because I donโ€™t think me knowing some things that you donโ€™t should bother you. And also, I am going to go to the bathroom.โ€™

And she le๎‚ย Dan, with his mouth open, and trod gently on the wide ๏ฌ‚oorboards, out of the room.

She reached the bathroom. Switched a light on.ย ๎ขere were tingles in her arms and legs and torso. Like electric static in search of a station. She was fading out, she was sure.ย ๎ขere wasnโ€™t long le๎‚ย here.ย ๎ขe disappointment was complete.

It was an impressive bathroom.ย ๎ขere was a mirror. She gasped at her re๏ฌ‚ection. She looked healthier but also older. Her hair made her look like a stranger.

๎‚ปis was not the life she imagined it to be.

And Nora wished the self in the mirror โ€˜Good luckโ€™.

And the moment a๎‚er that she was back, somewhere inside the Midnight Library, and Mrs Elm was staring at her from a small distance away with a curious smile.

โ€˜Well, how did that go?โ€™

๎‚ปe Penultimate Update Nora Had Posted Before She Found Herself Between Life and Deathโ€Œ

Do you ever think โ€˜how did I end up here?โ€™ Like you are in a maze and totally lost and itโ€™s all your fault because you were the one who made every turn? And you know that there are many routes that could have helped you out, because you hear all the people on the outside of the maze who made it through, and they are laughing and smiling. And sometimes you get a glimpse of them through the hedge. A fleeting shape through the leaves. And they seem so damn happy to have made it and you donโ€™t resent them, but you do resent yourself for not having their ability to work it all out. Do you? Or is this maze just for me?

Ps. My cat died.

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