by Anna James
As everyone started to settle Tilly’s eye was caught by a movement behind her, and she saw a tanned arm slowly reach for the blonde girl’s plait. Before she knew it, the end of the plait had been pinned to the back of the seat with a tack.
Tilly turned to see a boy with curly hair and brown eyes put a finger to his lips as Mr. Phillips asked for volunteers to help hand out the slates. Before Tilly could do anything, the girl had stood up and was yanked backward as her hair caught and she let out a piercing shriek, causing everyone to turn and stare at their desk. The girl sat back down and began to cry. Tilly quickly pulled the pin out of the desk and tentatively rubbed the girl’s arm in what she hoped was a comforting sort of way. She turned to Anne for guidance, but Anne was glaring fiercely at the boy in utter disgust. He merely winked at her, causing Anne’s cheeks to blush raspberry.
“Gilbert,” Tilly said under her breath.
14
An Excellent Plot Twist
Tilly found it hard not to stare at Anne as, despite the hard wooden seats and smell of chalk in the air, there was still a dreamy quality to the whole affair. Anne was just like Tilly had always imagined her: she spent the morning mostly staring out of the classroom window, lost in her own daydreams. Tilly saw Gilbert trying to get Anne’s attention several times, making silly faces and scratching his chalk so it made horrible screeches that annoyed everyone apart from his intended target. After failing to get her to notice him, Gilbert leaned across and pulled one of Anne’s red plaits hard.
“Carrots! Carrots!” Gilbert whispered, quiet enough to avoid the attention of the teacher but loud enough for most of the students to hear him.
Anne leaped up, fighting back angry tears, and grabbed the slate from her desk.
“You mean, hateful boy!” she shouted. “How dare you!” And with that she cracked it over Gilbert’s head. Tilly heard Oskar yelp at the back of the room.
The classroom erupted in shouts, gasps, and more tears from Tilly’s desk-mate, and the tumult finally distracted Mr. Phillips from the sums he was writing on the board.
“Anne Shirley, what is the meaning of this?” he shouted.
Anne was still standing, staring at Gilbert, with one half of her cracked slate in each hand.
Gilbert spoke first. “It was my fault, Mr. Phillips. I teased her.”
But Mr. Phillips was having none of it. “I am sorry to see a pupil of mine displaying such a temper and vindictive spirit,” he said.
“Oh, she hardly has a vindictive spirit! Gilbert was teasing her,” Tilly said, not able to help herself.
Mr. Phillips turned to look at her, noticing her for the first time.
Tilly felt herself shrink under his gaze. “I just mean . . . Gilbert was being rude and . . . I didn’t mean to . . .” she faltered.
“Who, exactly, are you?” he said imperiously. “Are you a new student? Why wasn’t I informed that you were to be starting?”
Mr. Phillips’s scolding drew Anne’s attention from Gilbert finally.
“That is Tilly Pages and she is my friend who is visiting. Sir,” Anne added begrudgingly.
“Well, both of you will go and stand at the front and write lines for the entirety of the afternoon. I will not tolerate this sort of behavior in my classroom. And you,” he said, looking down his nose at Tilly, “have made a very weak first impression.”
Tilly exchanged a horrified look with Oskar. Whatever difficulties their school threw up, neither of them had ever been asked to write lines at the front of the class for a whole afternoon. Mr. Phillips walked in front of them to the blackboard and on one side wrote:
Ann Shirley has a very bad temper. Ann Shirley must learn to control her temper.
And on the other side:
Tillie Pages has a quick tongue. Tillie Pages must learn to control her tongue.
Anne looked across at her mournfully. “I am so sorry for dragging you down into my shame; I just can’t believe Gilbert would call me ‘carrots,’ and in front of everyone. Oh, and Mr. Phillips has spelled your name wrong as well, to add insult to injury.”
“You’ll have to use my extra ‘e’s,” Tilly whispered.
Oskar, meanwhile, slumped down in his chair and tried to avoid drawing any attention to himself at all.
The endless lines made the afternoon a lot less enjoyable than the morning, and Tilly almost wished for the monotony of her usual classroom. When it was finally over and Tilly, Oskar, Diana, and Anne left the schoolroom they found Gilbert waiting for them, running his hand through his messy curls awkwardly.
“I’m awfully sorry I made fun of your hair, Anne,” he said, looking genuinely worried. “Honest I am. Don’t be mad for keeps now.”
But Anne simply tossed her head and pulled Diana and Tilly along with her, with Oskar awkwardly following.
“Oh, how could you, Anne?” Diana said, scandalized, and tried to turn back to look at Gilbert, before Anne tugged her onward.
“I shall never forgive Gilbert Blythe,” said Anne, striding onward. “Never.”
After the group had waved Diana off up the hill toward her house, Anne threw herself down onto a grassy verge by the path. “I am thoroughly embarrassed that you had to witness such a display,” she said. “I work so hard to maintain my poise in trying situations, but it does not come very naturally to me.”
“You shouldn’t feel embarrassed at all,” Tilly said. “I thought you were wonderful. I wish I was brave enough to stand up for myself like you did. I think everyone else was very much on your side, and look how bad Gilbert felt afterward.”
“Don’t even say his name to me, Tilly,” Anne said, though her cheeks glowed with pleasure. “I won’t utter it from now onward. What do you think, Oskar?”
“Uh, about whether to ever say his name again? I feel like it might get impractical,” Oskar offered.
“No, do you think he felt terrible afterward?” Anne asked.
“I guess?”
“Just as I thought,” Anne said with a satisfied grin on her face.
Their conversation was interrupted by a tapping sound coming up the path toward them. Tilly felt as though the air had been sucked from her lungs when she saw the man in the gray bowler hat come round the corner.
She elbowed Oskar urgently in the side. “That’s Mr. Chalk. The man my grandparents were talking about. Anne, I don’t know why he’s here,” she whispered. “He was in the bookshop, talking to Grandad, and he was at Alice’s tea party too.”
“He was talking to your grandad?” Oskar said, frowning.
“Yes. He was talking about a library.”
“Well, he’s heading our way, and he certainly has a very sour-looking face, doesn’t he?” Anne said, raising herself onto her elbows.
Chalk neared where the three of them were now standing and doffed his hat at them, a thin smile on his face that didn’t even nearly reach his eyes.
“Matilda,” he said coldly. “Out and about again, I see?”
“Who are you?” Tilly said, ignoring his question. “Are you following me?”
“My name is Mr. Chalk,” the man said. “I used to work with your grandfather a long while ago. And don’t be so self-centered, child. I’m merely out for a wander. Checking the borders, as it were. Just a happy coincidence to run into you, and with a friend as well,” he said, nodding toward Oskar.
Tilly didn’t trust herself to say anything.
“Does Tilly’s grandad know about all of this?” Oskar said, gesturing vaguely around.
Chalk made a noise like a giggle laced with a sneer. It was the worst sound Tilly had ever heard.
“Has your grandfather told you nothing?” Chalk said. “How interesting. An excellent plot twist, you might even say.” He looked around as if wanting applause. “I wonder . . . But no, I’ll let you get back home then, children. It sounds like you
need to have a tête-à-tête with your grandfather. Perhaps we’ll run into each other again sooner than we think.” And with that he tapped his way up the path.
Tilly shivered, even though the sun was still warm and high above the trees.
“Can you take us home, please, Anne?” she said quietly.
Anne sighed as though their leaving was the saddest possible thing she could imagine, but held out her hands. Tilly and Oskar both took one and the moment they were all linked the woods melted away as the familiar surroundings of Pages & Co. folded out and up around them. Just before the real world had settled and solidified, Anne smiled and let go and melted back into her story, leaving them standing in the bookshop.
“I think we need to talk to your grandad,” Oskar said.
They found him sitting at his desk with a cup of coffee and one of Jack’s croissants. He smiled absentmindedly as they came over. “Lovely to see you, Oskar. How are you getting on with that book?”
“Grandad,” Tilly said, and he looked up as he registered her solemn tone.
“What’s happened?” he said urgently.
“Grandad, we need to ask you about something,” Tilly said, and he blanched. “We just got back from a book.”
“Like, inside a book,” Oskar said.
“Specifically, Anne of Green Gables,” Tilly added.
“Together? You were both in Anne of Green Gables at the same time? That really is most unusual,” Grandad said almost to himself.
“I think we’re way past unusual,” Oskar said.
“Well, I suppose I knew this day was going to come eventually,” Grandad said, taking a deep breath. “I think it’s time for you to meet the Librarian.”
15
It Just Felt Like the Right Book
“The what?” Tilly said.
“The who?” Oskar said at the same time.
“As you have no doubt worked out,” Grandad said briskly, “considering where you’ve just been, there is a little more to Pages & Co. than most customers ever see. In fact,” he said, looking curiously at Oskar, “it’s not something most customers ever see, and something that not all readers are able to do. But it’s better if the Librarian explains it all to you—that’s how we do things.”
“We?” asked Oskar, but he was ignored again.
“Are we going right now?” Tilly said in surprise.
“Not right now, no, but we do need to go relatively soon. There are some basics we need to get covered to keep you safe, especially if you’re being dragged into books, even if it’s just to Avonlea. It’s a good job you’re not an avid Lord of the Rings reader or we’d have to deal with this even more urgently. Let’s go and ask Mary if she’s happy for Oskar to come with us into town later today.”
“I can go and ask her,” Oskar said quickly. “I’m sure today will be fine. Where are we going? Do I need a packed lunch? An umbrella?”
“Oskar, this isn’t a school trip; this is all more complicated than you could possibly know,” Grandad said.
“It’s more complicated than the fact that we just traveled inside a book? It’s more complicated than the fact that Alice from Alice in Wonderland just pops into Pages & Co. for a little chat with Tilly now and again? It’s more complicated than some sinister man following Tilly through books?” Oskar said in disbelief.
“It is considerably more complicated than that, yes, Oskar,” Grandad replied. “Hang on. What did you say about a sinister man following Tilly? A character in one of the books?”
“No,” Tilly explained. “It was that man who came to visit you here the other day—Mr. Chalk.”
“And he was in Anne of Green Gables?”
“And Alice in Wonderland,” Tilly added.
“You’ve been to Wonderland too?” Grandad shook his head. “And he was there at the same time as you and Oskar?”
Tilly nodded.
“But he didn’t enter the book at the same time as you two? Are you sure?”
“Absolutely sure.”
“Did Chalk say anything to you, Tilly?”
“He was just all weird and creepy and then he left. He said he knew you from work, and he laughed when he realized you hadn’t told me about it,” Tilly said quietly.
“Okay. Okay. Right, Oskar, you go back to—”
“But—” Oskar protested.
“Hear me out,” Grandad said. “You go back to Crumbs and ask your mum if you can come with us into King’s Cross this afternoon. Tell her I’m taking you two to the British Library. Tilly and I will come by to pick you up in a bit—text Tilly or pop back in if there’s a problem.”
Oskar was about to launch into a new list of questions, but at the unsettled look on Tilly’s face he swallowed his queries, closed his mouth, and nodded.
Grandad squeezed him firmly on the shoulder. “Thank you, Oskar. We’ll see you soon. Now, Tilly, let’s find your grandma.”
* * *
Grandma was behind the till, chatting animatedly to a regular customer.
“You are coming to the party on Wednesday, aren’t you?” they could hear her saying.
“So sorry to interrupt, Charlie,” Grandad said to the customer, “but, Elsie, I think I’m going to take Tilly and Oskar for a trip into town to the British Library.” He winked theatrically at Grandma, who shook her head slowly. “To see Amelia. You know, maybe . . .”
“Thank you, Archie. I’ve caught your drift, so you can stop winking.” Grandma looked at Tilly and smiled, although it was laced with something Tilly couldn’t quite identify. She handed Charlie a paper bag and receipt with a smile and then turned her attention fully to Tilly.
“It’s very exciting, sweetheart,” Grandma said. “And Oskar as well, you said? Archie, do you want to take over here and maybe Tilly and I can go and have a quick catch-up in the kitchen?”
Tilly nodded in a dazed silence, not quite able to wrap her head around her grandparents talking so casually about what seemed to be actual magic.
Over a cup of tea at the kitchen table, Grandma watched Tilly carefully.
“I’m sure you’ve already told Grandad all of this, but I’d love to hear about when you first realized what was happening.”
“I didn’t really realize until just now,” Tilly said. “I didn’t know what was happening to me, and when I first told Oskar he thought I was imagining things because I felt sad about Mum after finding those books of hers.”
“I’m sorry we didn’t tell you earlier, Tilly,” Grandma said. “It’s something we talked about a lot, but we decided that there was no way of explaining it before it actually happened; you would have thought we were going mad.”
“I just can’t believe I have magical grandparents and I didn’t know!”
Grandma laughed. “Oh, Tilly. To my eternal sadness we are not magical at all; we’re just lucky enough to be able to use the natural magic of books and reading. It exists for everyone, but some of us can exert a little more control over it. I can no more cast a spell than I can convince your grandad to stop hoarding shoeboxes. So, where have you been so far? I hope it was somewhere particularly enjoyable and not too perilous?”
“I went to the tea party in Alice in Wonderland first, and then to school with Anne Shirley,” Tilly said, feeling like she was reading lines from someone else’s story, not talking about her own life. “Before I knew I could go inside books, when I’d just met Anne and Alice at Pages & Co., I tried to get Sara to come out of A Little Princess, but nothing happened.”
“Why A Little Princess?” Grandma asked slowly.
“I’m not sure, it just felt like the right book,” Tilly said. “It feels like ages since I read it, but Grandad had just told me it was my mum’s favorite, and it reminded me how much I liked Sara.”
“He did, did he?” Grandma said. “Well, I suppose that’s true, but she liked a great man
y books apart from that one. And, if you didn’t yet know what was possible, I’m not surprised nothing happened. When everything first kicks in it’s only the characters you have the very strongest relationships with that tend to start popping up—it’s why Anne and Alice ended up visiting you in Pages. Now, tell me what happened with Oskar.”
So Tilly told Grandma everything that had happened over the last few days, right up to Oskar getting yanked into Avonlea with her and them confronting Grandad.
“And that brings us to here,” Tilly concluded. “Grandad says we have to go and visit a librarian at the British Library.”
“Well, it’s sort of nearby the British Library,” Grandma said. “But this is a bit of a special library, and a bit of a different librarian. Different but wonderful, and it’s brilliant that you get to share it all with Oskar. It’s good to have a friend around in this sort of situation.”
“You mean the sort of situation where you find out you live in a magical bookshop and you can talk to your favorite characters?” Tilly said, a flicker of excitement starting to glow inside her.
“Exactly,” Grandma said, smiling.
16
Welcome to the Underlibrary
“Archie and Tilly!” Mary said, delighted to see them when they pushed through the café door a few hours later. Oskar was buzzing excitedly by her side. “How lovely to have a visit. Sit down, sit down, and let me get you a pot of tea. Oskar says you’ve offered to take him into town with Tilly—are you sure it’s not an imposition?”
“No time for tea, thanks, Mary,” Grandad said. “And yes, of course, happy to have him along! Give them both a change of scenery, you know.”
“Oh yes,” Mary said, looking pleased, “it would be good for Oskar to get out for a bit and experience some culture at the same time. Is there an exhibition on at the moment that you fancied?”
