‘Oh, it has nothing on this series.’ Effie deposited a trio of cowboy werewolf books atop Serena’s ever-growing stack. Bowow had discussed them at length at romance book club, growing hotter and more bothered by the second.
‘I mean, some like them hairy.’
As she helped Serena with a comprehensive selection of glasses-fogging reading that should not be attempted on public transportation, Effie kept a close watch on the library doors, waiting for them to swing open under the shoulder of her favourite banker. Who knew it was possible to have a favourite banker? Especially when you were fundamentally anti-capitalist. Well, he was a former banker, which had to count for something.
The doors did swing with alarming regularity. A school group coming in for a guided story time and borrowing session handled by Bowow, who volunteered on Thursdays; the Scrabblers, a gang of oldies who’d come in every morning to best each other’s triple word scores; Winston Ho, who had a thing for nautical maps; and Lily and Terrance from The Winged Monkey, who were whispering together about a job they’d both missed out on.
Once Serena was content with her huge stack of blush-worthy books, Effie hurried back to the circulation desk, where Babs, who worked at the Toto Hotel, was frantically dinging the bell that sat atop a copy ofThe Bell Jar.
‘There you are,’ said Babs, with her usual attitude. Effie never quite understood how someone so acerbic had managed a fifty-year career in hospitality, or how she was universally so beloved in spite of her habit of snapping at people should they get in her way. Especially if she was grocery shopping. Or waiting for a good parking spot. ‘I’m trying to borrow a book over here, if you hadn’t noticed.’
Effie took the book, a weighty non-fiction tome about cannibalism. Very revealing, Babs.
‘Sorry about that,’ she said. ‘I was with another patron. Let’s get you sorted out.’
She scanned Babs’ card, then pulled up her account. Oh dear. The account was flashing bright red, like the background lighting in Effie’s frequent anxiety dreams. Effiescrolled through Babs’ borrowing record, which was extensive, and rather gory.
‘Babs, I can’t let you borrow this. You have twenty-seven books overdue.’
Babs folded her thin arms. ‘Lies!’
‘Let me print them out for you.’ Effie printed off a receipt listing Babs’ overdues, then circled the amount at the bottom showing how much money she’d saved by using the library, and how much money she’d saved thanks to the new fee-free overdues program.
Babs took the receipt, puzzling over it as though it were a cryptic crossword.
‘Something’s afoot,’ she said, waggling a finger. ‘Maybe I’ve been hacked. I attended your online safety awareness sessions. I know all about phishers and the like.’
‘Well, you keep an eye on your credit, and I’ll keep an eye out for those books in the drop box,’ said Effie.
But it was odd, though, wasn’t it? That so many books were overdue at once?
She was so busy searching through her files to count the overdue books that she didn’t notice a certain broad-shouldered guy come through the door until his elbows were on the desk and he was rearranging the bookmarks Effie kept by the monitor.
‘There you are!’ she said, before she could catch herself.
‘Here I am,’ said Theo, amused. ‘Were you waiting for me?’
‘No, absolutely not. I just meant...’ Effie cleared her throat. Better to course-correct and hope he forgot about it, rather like when you ended a work call with ‘love you!’, which Bonnie was notorious for, and which Effie prided herself on never having done.
Never having doneyet,a little voice in her head noted.
Shut it, little voice.
‘There’s something up with the overdues,’ she said.‘They’re out of control. I’m going to have to do a drive-around or a book amnesty if we’re going to ensure everything is returned.’
‘You’re right, the shelves are practically bare,’ drawled Theo, amused. ‘So bare it’s indecent.’
Effie coughed as his words conjured thoroughly inappropriate images in her mind. It was like walking into a particularly spicy edition of Bowow’s romance book club.
‘Indecent is a matter of perspective,’ she managed finally.
‘Would you like me to join you on this drive-around thing? I can be quite persuasive when I need to be.’
I bet you can, thought Effie, her mind briefly turning to a particularly memorable scene from one of the novels she’d just loaned out to Serena. A scene that if spoken aloud would absolutely result in her being stripped of her head librarian status.
‘You know what? Sure,’ said Effie, pretending that she hadn’t already decided that he was going to be a part of all of this. ‘That’d be great. There’s one more thing, too, actually.’
‘Wow, none of this was on the intake paperwork when I signed up for the Friends of the Library.’
