by Anna James
Tilly nodded and Oskar followed her out of the shop and upstairs.
‘Are you okay?’ she asked quietly. ‘I’m sure she’s going to be fine.’
‘I guess,’ Oskar said. ‘I know she’s going to be okay, I just wish I could have gone too. I don’t really want to talk about it right now, though, if that’s okay. What was it you wanted to say to me earlier?’
‘Okay, well, let me know if you change your mind,’ Tilly said. ‘And what I needed to talk to you about was that yesterday, after you left, I went inside A Little Princess to try to see Captain Crewe …’
‘You went bookwandering without me?’ Oskar said, affronted.
‘I didn’t plan to,’ Tilly said. ‘I … I wanted to see my dad.’ The word still felt foreign on her tongue.
‘What?’
‘It’s what I’m trying to tell you,’ Tilly said. ‘After you left, my grandparents told me the truth about who my father is.’
Oskar’s attention immediately snapped from being frustrated he’d missed a bookwandering opportunity to entirely focused on Tilly.
‘The truth?’
‘Well, what they said about him dying before I was born is true in some ways as he died in nineteen hundred and something. Inside a book.’
‘What?’
‘My father is Captain Crewe.’
Oskar looked baffled.
‘From A Little Princess – he’s the main character’s dad and he dies.’
‘But … but how does that even work?’ Oskar stuttered. ‘What does it mean?’
‘Turns out no one knows. It’s really not supposed to happen. My mum got into loads of trouble for falling in love with him. And it means I’m technically half-fictional, although I don’t think there’s an official word for it.’
‘And did you find him?’ Oskar said. ‘When you went in? What was he like?’
‘I saw him, but I didn’t talk to him. But then it got even weirder because when I tried to get back the last page of the book had been torn and I ended up in the Underlibrary,’ Tilly said as she found some clean sheets and towels and a new toothbrush. ‘And the other thing is that I found a copy of A Little Princess in Chalk’s office that’s different from mine, and from all the normal ones – I checked the copies in the shop.’
‘What were you doing in his office?’ Oskar asked.
‘I sort of broke in accidentally. He went mad when he found me,’ Tilly said.
Oskar looked at her in surprise. ‘I didn’t think you were a breaking-into-offices-accidentally sort of person,’ he said as they dumped the stuff on the bed in the spare room and went back downstairs.
‘Well, I didn’t used to be the sort of person who leaped off the side of pirate ships either,’ Tilly replied.
‘Fair enough,’ Oskar said. ‘There’s definitely something off about that Chalk guy, though, right? He also seems to be super not into books for a librarian. I can’t believe they let him work there. I wonder if he has other books that are different. Can you do the thing you did last time to magic us back there? How did that work?’
‘I’m not sure,’ Tilly said nervously. ‘It’s definitely not what’s supposed to happen. I could try to do it again – but I didn’t do it on purpose the first time so I don’t know if it’ll work. I think it must have something to do with the Endpapers Seb warned us about. When you let the book finish while you’re still inside?’
‘I suppose if you couldn’t read the last line, that kind of makes sense,’ Oskar said slowly. ‘But didn’t Seb say they were dangerous – and you just ended up back at the Underlibrary?’
‘Yes, but … I wonder if it’s because of who my dad is, because of how I’m, well, half-fictional. Do you remember that Seb said the Endpapers work as a kind of cushion to bounce characters back if something goes awry? And I guess I’m sort of half a character.’
‘That figures, I think.’
‘There was a bit when everything just went black, and cold, and I couldn’t see anything, but it was like the blackness just went on forever …’ Tilly said, shuddering at the memory.
‘It doesn’t sound like a fun place to get stuck,’ Oskar said. ‘And I guess Seb did tell us specifically not to go too near the end of a book. It’s kind of risky just to look at some books, and didn’t you say the differences between the normal copies and the one in Chalk’s office were only small?’
‘Yes, but why were there any differences? There’s something strange going on. I wish I could just check,’ Tilly said, unable to ignore the niggling feeling in her brain. ‘And they weren’t that small: there was a whole extra character.’
‘What did they do?’ Oskar asked.
‘Not much, really, but where did she come from?’
‘Maybe it’s just an old version,’ Oskar said, ‘and the writer changed his mind?’
‘Her mind,’ Tilly corrected.
‘Well, maybe she just changed her mind,’ Oskar repeated, ‘and took the character out?’
‘But why would Chalk have it? It looked like a regular book and I’m sure that’s not how it works, that you can have old copies of famous books with slightly different bits in. I suppose I should ask Grandad – maybe it’s an Underlibrary thing.’
‘It’s the sensible thing to do, I guess,’ Oskar agreed.
‘Okay, it’s decided,’ Tilly said, ignoring the slight sense of disappointment she was feeling. ‘I’ll ask Grandad in the morning. I’m sure he’ll know.’
he next morning bloomed in a buzz of excitement about that evening’s party. The family, plus Oskar, were sitting round the kitchen table, eating warm pain au chocolat when Jack arrived and started unloading all his paraphernalia. The shop was closed in preparation for the evening’s party and he and Grandma planned to bake and decorate treats for most of the day. Oskar and Tilly were sent back out to the shop with Grandad to start carefully clearing the books from the display tables on the ground floor, which were being turned into a long tea party table.
As the three of them made piles of books ready to move upstairs Grandad hummed happily to himself, before Oskar elbowed Tilly in the side and gave her a look.
Tilly took a deep breath. ‘Grandad?’
‘Yes, love?’
‘Can I ask you something?’
‘Of course,’ he said, still piling books up.
‘When I ended up in the Underlibrary the other day Amelia said something to me about my mum …’
Grandad put his pile of books down and went to sit on the stairs, patting the step next to him for Tilly, as Oskar continued sorting books nearby.
‘She said that after she’d had me,’ Tilly went on, ‘Mum tried to get into the Source Library, using your key, and that was part of the reason you’d retired early from being the Librarian.’
‘Well, yes, that’s true, Tilly,’ Grandad said slowly. ‘Your mum got it into her head that she could somehow stop Captain Crewe from dying without leaving a trace in the Source Edition. She’d convinced herself that if she went with him once his story wasn’t on the page, she’d be able to change the course of the story without altering Sara’s. Of course, it wouldn’t have worked – it doesn’t bear thinking about what chaos she would have wreaked – but Mr Chalk noticed her in there as soon as she entered and she didn’t have the chance to do any permanent damage before we found her.’
‘Was she trying to leave me?’ Tilly asked quietly.
‘Tilly, she wasn’t thinking straight. It was a dangerous, reckless plan that I don’t believe she’d thought through, but I am certain she wasn’t trying to leave you. I think that she must have been either testing out whether she could do it with a view to coming back to collect you or even exploring whether she could get him out of the book without drawing any attention to either of them.’
‘How do we know she’s not there now?’ Tilly said. ‘Maybe she found a way back?’
‘There’s no way she could possibly have got back into the Source Library without us noticing. Remember, we tried to stam
p her to check,’ Grandad said.
‘Is that why Mr Chalk hates me so much – because of what Mum did?’ Tilly asked.
‘Mr Chalk is no great fan of our family for many reasons,’ Grandad said. ‘And none of them are your fault. We never saw eye to eye when we worked together and Bea using my key to access the Sources was the final straw. He’s convinced himself that I’m somehow still trying to undermine him even now that I have nothing to do with the Underlibrary – that’s what he was accusing me of when he burst in here last weekend. He was claiming that Amelia and I were somehow in cahoots, which is sheer nonsense. He likes Amelia about as much as he does me; he had his eye on the Librarian job when I left – in fact, after the scandal, he was extremely insistent that I must be forced out, if I wasn’t willing to retire.’
‘But why does he hate everyone so much?’ Oskar said, no longer pretending that he wasn’t listening to their conversation. ‘And how come he can even bookwander when he doesn’t seem to like stories?’
‘Well, we all have different relationships with books,’ Grandad said carefully. ‘Obviously Enoch has an important link to them otherwise he wouldn’t be able to bookwander. And, as we told you, he’s a very diligent watcher and incredibly attuned to disturbances in the Sources. He might not be a friendly or a kind man, but he’s not an evil one. He’s devoted his life to the Underlibrary, even if his methods are unorthodox.’
‘Talking of which, and just hypothetically speaking,’ Tilly said, trying to sound casual, ‘say Mr Chalk had a book and it was slightly different from all the other versions of that book, what might that mean?’
Grandad raised an eyebrow. ‘Hypothetically speaking I would say that I would be concerned as to how you knew that, but also that it was nothing to be alarmed by. If you were to read a book that had someone wandering inside, you would see the results of them being there temporarily on the page until they left, but usually a wanderer will have the book with them. If it was a Library copy, it would not be unusual for a librarian to be on a monitored wander. Now. Do I need to be anxious about why you’re asking that question?’
Tilly and Oskar both shook their heads vigorously and Grandad laughed gently and stood up. ‘You’re worryingly like your mother, Tilly,’ he said affectionately. ‘Please be careful.’
Oskar and Tilly stole a quiet moment to regroup when everyone took a coffee break.
‘So, it was just a librarian in the book,’ Oskar said. ‘That’s why it was different, and that’s why it was so undramatic – she was buying cake, right?’
‘Yep, it was just a woman buying cake – it barely said anything in the bit I read, just that it was cold and she was playing with her necklace, then she bought almond cakes …’
Oskar pointed at Tilly’s neck and laughed. ‘She’s rubbed off on you obviously!’
And Tilly realised she was messing with her bee necklace as she talked. She stopped and stared at Oskar.
‘Oh my goodness, are you thinking what I’m thinking?’
‘Uhhh, that you want some cake?’ he tried hopefully.
‘Oskar. Just suppose, for one minute, that that woman wasn’t just a librarian. Just suppose that that woman was my mother,’ Tilly said, fizzing with excitement.
‘No, no, no, Tilly,’ Oskar said urgently. ‘You’ve missed out, like, a million steps there to get to that conclusion. You can’t go around thinking every random woman wearing a necklace is your mother – that’s just not how it works.’
‘But it’s not a random woman! She’s in A Little Princess, where my father is! And she’s not in any other editions!’
‘But Tilly, why would she be in a copy in Chalk’s office? It doesn’t make any sense at all, and your grandad just told you they didn’t find her in any books. You’re seeing her there because you want to see her there.’
‘Maybe,’ Tilly said, ‘but surely it’s worth going to check? There’s no harm in at least trying!’
‘No harm in trying out a theory about just wandering off the edge of a book? No harm in sneaking into the Underlibrary without telling anyone? No harm in risking running into Chalk? And what about Amelia – how would you explain being in the wrong place again to her?’
‘Well, you never know what you might find, being in the wrong place at the right time,’ Tilly said.
‘Did you read that in a book? Oskar said.
Tilly grinned. ‘No, I made that one up myself. Anyway,’ she said more quietly, ‘I don’t want to go on my own and I need someone, well, someone who’s best-friend material to come with me.’
‘Well, I guess we could go while the party is happening …?’ Oskar said, relenting quickly, his cheeks a little pink.
‘Exactly,’ Tilly said. ‘We could be there and back before anyone’s even noticed we’ve gone …’
t five o’clock the Pages & Co. extended family gathered for an early tea of sandwiches in the kitchen before Oskar was commandeered by Jack to help with final details for the party, and Tilly was sent upstairs to get changed. It wasn’t fancy dress, but guests were very much encouraged to wear a nod to the year’s theme. Tilly and Grandma had found a full-skirted blue dress that had a distinctly Alice-y feel. Tilly wondered what the real Alice would make of it as she refastened her golden bee necklace round her neck and headed downstairs.
The bookshop had been transformed. The central display tables had been cleared away and there was just one long table heaving under Jack’s creations. Pretty, mismatched china tea sets and cake stands were piled with scones topped with cream and jam, macarons of every imaginable colour and tiny, frosted cupcakes topped with sparkles. There were elegant finger sandwiches, miniature twirled pastries and, at the centre of the table, a four-tier Victoria sponge cake was messily iced and heaped with fresh flowers and fruit.
Tilly could see Oskar laughing as he helped Jack drape strands of white fairy lights along the bookshelves, getting them both tangled up. Grandad was pinning intricately cut paper flowers in garlands around the room and Grandma was filling mismatched bottles with fresh flowers. There was soft string music playing in the background, which was disrupted only by the occasional giggle, or by the clattering of an array of teapots being filled with different kinds of tea or brightly coloured cocktails for the grown-ups.
Tilly stood in the middle of the shop floor as though she was at the centre of a merry-go-round and let herself soak everything up. The only thing missing was her mum.
‘Oh, Tilly, you look lovely!’ her grandma said as she noticed her standing there. ‘What do you think of the shop?’
‘I love it,’ Tilly whispered. ‘It looks perfect.’ The atmosphere of the bookshop settled on her shoulders like an invisible protective cape. Jack came over, wearing a top hat tied with colourful scarves in a nod to the Mad Hatter. He pointed at Oskar, who had the four playing card suits painted on his cheeks.
‘I did them with eyeliner and lipstick,’ Jack said proudly.
Guests soon started to trickle in and Oskar and Tilly were on duty, taking people’s coats, which they then unceremoniously heaped into a pile in the stock cupboard. The bookshop was soon full of the noise of music, laughter and glasses clinking. After an hour or so, Grandad clambered up on to a chair and chinked a cake fork against his glass.
‘I just wanted to take a moment to say thank you to everyone for coming, and thank you to everyone who visits Pages & Co. and keeps us open and adventuring. Some people see a bookshop as an archive, or a shrine, or even a time machine. But I think a bookshop is like a map of the world. There are infinite paths you can take through it and none of them are right or wrong. Here in a bookshop we give readers landmarks to help them find their way, but every reader has to learn to set their own compass. So, a toast,’ he said, raising his glass and looking directly at Tilly. ‘To finding your own adventure.’ The crowd raised their glasses before erupting into cheers.
As the room refilled with noise Tilly and Oskar slipped upstairs. Tilly had both her mum’s copy of A Little Princess and
a brand-new edition in a Pages & Co. tote bag ready to compare with Chalk’s version.
‘Okay, now which book should we use?’ Tilly said, scanning the shelves. ‘Alice, because I’ve been there the most times?’
‘It seems as safe a choice as any,’ Oskar said, and the two of them linked hands as Tilly read them into the final chapter.
The smell of burnt marshmallows was much stronger this time, no longer smoky and tempting but acrid and sticky like they’d been left on the fire for too long. Tilly felt the flip of her stomach as the walls folded down around them, leaving them standing in a lovely, carefully manicured garden with a large white house visible up the hill. There was a stream babbling somewhere nearby and the garden was lined with blossom trees and rose bushes.
‘Where’s Alice? Can you see anyone at all?’ Oskar whispered, sounding slightly panicked.
‘No,’ Tilly said. ‘Maybe this was a bad idea after all.’
‘There she is!’ Oskar shouted suddenly, pointing down the hill, and Tilly tried to calm her breathing. She followed the direction of his finger and saw Alice lying under a tree, apparently asleep in the lap of a girl who looked remarkably like her, only a little older.
‘I guess that’s her sister,’ she said. ‘This is the end of the book after all; this is when she wakes up and her sister says it was all a dream.’
‘Hang on,’ Oskar said, outraged. ‘Alice in Wonderland ends with it all being a dream? But Ms Webber always tells us that it’s lazy storytelling to have it end as a dream.’
‘Yeah, but then her sister has her own sort of dream, and talks about telling it as a story to her future children.’
‘It sounds weird,’ Oskar said.
‘The whole book is weird,’ Tilly said. ‘That’s why people like it.’
They edged closer to the two girls, and watched as Alice’s sister gently shook her awake, smiling.
‘Wake up, Alice dear!’ she said. ‘Why, what a long sleep you’ve had.’
‘Oh, I’ve had such a curious dream!’ said Alice. They could hear her telling all her adventures in Wonderland, as her sister listened, entranced. As she finished, her sister kissed her on the top of her head.
