๎ขe shrewd-eyed librarian was back at her chessboard and hardly looked up as Nora arrived back.
โWell, that was terrible.โ
Mrs Elm smiled, wryly. โIt just shows you, doesnโt it?โ โShows me what?โ
โWell, that you can choose choices but not outcomes. But I stand by what I said. It was a good choice. It just wasnโt a desired outcome.โ
Nora studied Mrs Elmโs face. Was sheย enjoyingย this?
โWhy did I stay?โ Nora asked. โWhy didnโt I just come home, a๎er she died?โ
Mrs Elm shrugged. โYou got stuck. You were grieving. You were depressed. You know what depression is like.โ
Nora understood this. She thought of a study she had read about somewhere, about ๏ฌsh. Fish were more like humans than most people think. Fish get depression.ย ๎ขey had done tests with zebra๏ฌsh.ย ๎ขey had a ๏ฌsh tank and they drew a horizontal line on the side of it, halfway down, in marker pen. Depressed ๏ฌsh stayed below the line. But give those same ๏ฌsh Prozac and they go above the line, to the top of their tanks, darting about
like new.
Fish get depressed when they have a lack of stimulation. A lack ofย everything. When they are just there, ๏ฌoating in a tank that resembles nothing at all.
Maybe Australia had been her empty ๏ฌsh tank, once Izzy had gone. Maybe she just had no incentive to swim above the line. And maybe even Prozac โ or ๏ฌuoxetine โ wasnโt enough to help her rise up. So she was just
going to stay there in that ๏ฌat, with Jojo, and never move until she was made to leave the country.
Maybe even suicide would have been tooย active. Maybe in some lives you just ๏ฌoat around and expect nothing else and donโt even try to change. Maybe that was most lives.
โYes,โ said Nora, aloud now. โMaybe I got stuck. Maybe in every life I am stuck. I mean, maybe thatโs just who I am. A star๏ฌsh in every life is still a star๏ฌsh.ย ๎ขere isnโt a life where a star๏ฌsh is a professor of aerospace engineering. And maybe there isnโt a life where Iโm not stuck.โ
โWell, I think you are wrong.โ
โOkay, then. I would like to try the life where I am not stuck. What life would that be?โ
โArenโt you supposed to tellย me?โ
Mrs Elm moved a queen to take a pawn, then turned the board around. โIโm afraid I am just the librarian.โ
โLibrarians have knowledge.ย ๎ขey guide you to the right books.ย ๎ขe right worlds.ย ๎ขey ๏ฌnd the best places. Like soul-enhanced search engines.โ
โExactly. But you also have to know what you like. What to type into the metaphorical search box. And sometimes you have to try a few things before that becomes clear.โ
โI havenโt got the stamina. I donโt think I can do this.โ โ๎ขe only way to learn is to live.โ
โYes. So you keep saying.โ
Nora exhaled heavily. It was interesting to know that she could exhale in the library.ย ๎ขat she felt entirely in her body.ย ๎ขat it felt normal. Because this place was de๏ฌnitelyย notย normal. And the real physical her wasnโt here. It couldnโt be. And yet it was, to all intents and purposes, because she was โ in some sense โ there. Standing on a ๏ฌoor, as if gravity still existed.
โOkay,โ she said. โI would like a life where I am successful.โ
Mrs Elm tutted disapprovingly. โFor someone who has read a lot of books, you arenโt very speci๏ฌc with your choice of words.โ
โSorry.โ
โSuccess. What does that mean to you? Money?โ
โNo. Well, maybe. But that wouldnโt be the de๏ฌning feature.โ โWell, then, what is success?โ
Nora had no idea what success was. She had felt like a failure for so long.
Mrs Elm smiled, patiently. โWould you like to consult again withย ๎ปe Book of Regrets? Would you like to think about those bad decisions that turned you away from whatever you feel success is?โ
Nora shook her head quickly, like a dog shaking o๏ฌย water. She didnโt want to be confronted with that long interminable list of mistakes and wrong turns again. She was depressed enough. And besides, she knew her regrets. Regrets donโt leave.ย ๎ขey werenโt mosquito bites.ย ๎ขey itch for ever.
โNo, they donโt,โ said Mrs Elm, reading her mind. โYou donโt regret how you were with your cat. And nor do you regret not going to Australia with Izzy.โ
Nora nodded. Mrs Elm had a point.
She thought of swimming in the pool at Bronte Beach. How good that had felt, in its strange familiarity.
โFrom an early age you were encouraged to swim,โ said Mrs Elm. โYes.โ
โYour dad was always happy to take you to the pool.โ
โIt was one of the few things that had made him happy,โ Nora mused.
She had associated swimming with her fatherโs approval and enjoyed the wordlessness of being in the water because it was the opposite of her parents screaming at each other.
โWhy did you quit?โ asked Mrs Elm.
โAs soon as I started winning swimming races, I becameย seenย and I didnโt want to be seen. And not only seen but seen in a swimsuit at the exact age you are self-obsessing about your body. Someone said I had boyโs shoulders. It was a stupid thing but there were lots of stupid things and you feel them all at that age. As a teenager Iโd have happily been invisible. People called me โ๎ขe Fishโ.ย ๎ขey didnโt mean it as a compliment. I was shy. It was one of the reasons why I preferred the library to the playing ๏ฌeld. It seems a small thing, but it really helped, having that space.โ
โNever underestimate the big importance of small things,โ Mrs Elm said. โYou must always remember that.โ
Nora thought back. Her teenage combination of shyness and visibility had been a problematic mix, but she was never bullied, as such, probably because everyone knew her brother. And Joe, while never exactly tough, was always considered cool and popular enough for his most immediate blood relation to be immune to schoolyard tyranny.
She won races in local and then national competitions, but as she reached ๏ฌ๎een it became too much.ย ๎ขe daily swims, length a๎er length a๎er length.
โI had to quit.โ
Mrs Elm nodded. โAnd the bond youโd developed with your dad frayed and almost snapped completely.โ
โPretty much.โ
She pictured her fatherโs face, in the car, on a drizzle-scratched Sunday morning outside Bedford Leisure Centre, as she told him she didnโt want to swim in competitions any more.ย ๎ขat look of disappointment and profound frustration.
โBut you could make a success of your life,โ he had said. Yes. She remembered it now. โYouโre never going to be a pop star, but this is somethingย real. Itโs right in front of you. If you keep training, youโll end up at the Olympics. I know it.โ
She had been cross with him saying that. As if there was a very thin path to a happy life and it was the path he had decided for her. As if her own agency in her own life was automatically wrong. But what she didnโt fully appreciate at ๏ฌ๎een years of age was just how bad regret could feel, and how much her father had felt that pain of being so near to the realisation of a dream he could almost touch it.
Noraโs father, it was true, had been a di๏ฌcult man.
As well as being highly critical of everything Nora did, and everything Nora wanted and everything Nora believed, unless it was related to swimming, Nora had also felt that simply to be in his presence was to commit some kind of invisible crime. Ever since the ligament injury that thwarted his rugby career, heโd had a sincere conviction that the universe was against him. And Nora was, at leastย sheย felt, considered by him as part of that same universal plan. From that moment in that car park she had felt she was really just an extension of the pain in his le๎ย knee. A walking wound.
But maybe he had known what would happen. Maybe he could foresee the way one regret would lead to another, until suddenly that was all she was. A whole book of regrets.
โOkay, Mrs Elm. I want to know what happened in the life where I did what my father wanted. Where I trained as hard as I possibly could. Where I never moaned about a ๏ฌve a.m. start or a nine p.m. ๏ฌnish. Where I swam every day and never thought about quitting. Where I didnโt get sidelined by
music or writing un๏ฌnished novels. Where I sacri๏ฌced everything else on the altar of freestyle. Where I didnโt give up. Where I did everything right in order to reach the Olympics. Take me to where I am inย thatย life.โ
For a moment it seemed as though Mrs Elm hadnโt been taking any notice of Noraโs mini-speech, as she kept frowning at the chessboard, working out how to out-manoeuvre herself.
โ๎ขe rook is my favourite piece,โ she said. โItโs the one that you think you donโt have to watch out for. It is straightforward. You keep your eye on the queen, and the knights, and the bishop, because they are the sneaky ones. But itโs the rook that o๎en gets you.ย ๎ขe straightforward is never quite what it seems.โ
Nora realised Mrs Elm was probably not talking just about chess. But the shelves were moving now. Fast as trains.
โ๎ขis life youโve asked for,โ explained Mrs Elm, โis a little bit further away from the pub dream and the Australian adventure.ย ๎ขose were closer lives.
๎ขis one involves a lot of di๏ฌerent choices, going back further in time. And so the book is a little further away, you see?โ
โI see.โ
โLibraries have to have a system.โ
๎ขe books slowed. โAh, here we are.โ
๎ขis time Mrs Elm didnโt stand up. She simply raised her le๎ย hand and a book ๏ฌew towards her.
โHow did you do that?โ
โI have no idea. Now hereโs the life you asked for. O๏ฌย you go.โ
Nora took hold of the book. Light, fresh, lime-coloured. She turned to the ๏ฌrst page. And this time she was aware of feeling absolutely nothing at all.
๎ปe Last Updateย ๎ปat Nora Had Posted Before She Found Herself Between Life and Deathโ
I miss my cat. Iโm tired.
