‘I’ll always love him, you know.’
Ellen nods.
‘I know you will. But maybe you’ll have space left over to love someone else someday too. I don’t want you to think your life stops here, Tilly. I’ve had moments when I’ve wondered what the point of all this is. But we’re still here. And I think we owe it to him, and to ourselves, tolive. Nothing can take away your memories. But it’s OK to make new ones too.’
37
Arriving at Grand Central Station feels like arriving in the centre of the world. As Tilly drags her suitcase behind her, she cranes her neck to look up at the turquoise ceiling painted in gold constellations. The concourse is heaving and she weaves her way through until she emerges on to the humid street outside, noisy with traffic and pulsing with a sense of limitless energy. Skyscrapers tower around her, windows glinting in the sunshine. The tip of the Empire State Building pokes out from behind a building, and a wide smile spreads across Tilly’s face.
‘Right, Matilda Nightingale,’ she says under her breath, ‘let’s make some memories.’
‘Is this your first time in New York?’ enquires the member of staff behind the reception desk of the Library Hotel. The lobby is cool and peaceful, the wood-clad walls lined with books.
‘No, I’ve been a few times before. Although it’s my first time on my own.’
The member of staff smiles warmly, typing Tilly’s details into the computer.
‘And are you here for business or pleasure?’
‘Oh, definitely pleasure.’
After leaving her things in her room on the eighth floor, Tilly heads out of the hotel into the bustle of Midtown, hit by a blast of heat and noise from taxis and buses rumbling down East 41st Street and Madison Avenue. She heads in thedirection of the imposing white building visible at the end of the street, a giddy excitement taking hold as she approaches. Some people might choose to tour film sets in Hollywood but climbing the steps of the New York Public Library is Tilly’s movie moment.
The building’s facade is impressive but as she steps inside she lets out a breath. The entire place is marble – floor, staircase, even the carved ceiling that is held up by elegant columns. After the humid heat of the street outside it is cool and calm. She takes a photo, knowing instantly who would appreciate this place as much as her. She pulls up the Book Lane Instagram account and sends the photo as a direct message.
Guess where I am? (This is Tilly, by the way)
The reply pings in, just seconds later.
Wow. Have you been to the Rose Reading Room yet? I’ve always wanted to go. How were things with your in-laws? (This is Alfie, by the way.)
*
I’m heading there now,she types in reply.I can’t get over this place. I can’t believe it’s full of BOOKS! And it actually went really well, thanks.
*
I’m so pleased. Well done for navigating all of that. Now go enjoy the books!
There are plenty of people about but it still feels peaceful as Tilly climbs the stairs, her sandals tapping on the marble steps.
When she reaches the Rose Reading Room she inhalesdeeply, looking out at the rows of tables topped with little lamps, the walls lined with bookcases and the arched windows streaming with light. She lifts her head to the ceiling where clouds in shades of pink and grey swirl in a painted blue sky.
At first I thought it was like a palace here but it’s actually a cathedral,she types as she shares another photo.A cathedral for books.
*
My kind of cathedral. Please keep sending photos. It’s nice to picture you there. I’m doing accounts today and could use the distraction.
*
Ugh, accounts. Sending you strength.
*
Thanks, I think I need it.
Alfie stares at his computer screen. The bookshop is closed for the evening and outside he can see people walking in the sunshine, perhaps heading to the pub or the park. But he sits at his desk, a calculator to one side and a fresh mug of coffee and a letter on the other. The letter arrived this morning. Since then he’s had to work hard to control his emotions, not wanting to worry Blue or Prudence.
