A vision of the old man’s hands rose before her, the flesh bulging over twisted bones. She forced her thoughts away.
“You are horrifying,” she said to Nat. “Stop inhaling your food.”
Her phone chirped in her bag. She pulled it out. An unknown number lit the screen.
hey emma. one photography teacher ready and waiting. go out tomorrow? J
Heat lanced through her chest. It was him. She felt a flash of something like triumph, and then the panic kicked in.
“Nat,” she croaked. “Emergency. What do I write back?”
Nat seized the phone from her hand and whooped. Emma hovered over his shoulder as he typed her reply. She stuffed the paper slip into her bag. By the time she zipped it up, both it and the Librarian had fallen from her mind.
CHAPTER 8
A week later, Emma found a surprise by the river. She’d come from the North Gate, hitching up her rucksack. The last person she’d expected to see was hunched on the bank, unspeakably chic in raw-hemmed jeans and a structured shirt. Watching the froth churn, one knee hugged to her chest.
“Oh, hello.” Julia’s glassy eyes focused on Emma. “It’s you.”
A cigarette wavered in Julia’s fingers. There were smudges in her makeup and red rims around her eyes.
“I don’t smoke. Usually.” Julia ducked Emma’s glance and crushed the cigarette into a patch of moss. “It’s just—I had plans today with my friend. Imogen.” She hugged her knee closer. “Without her here, I… I’m not quite sure what to do with myself, to be honest.”
“I’m sure she’ll be along soon.”
Julia released a breath. “She just left the University.”
“Oh. I’m sorry. I hope she’s okay.”
Julia looked at her as if for the first time. “She’s not. But thankyou. You’re the first person to say that.” Her eyes snagged on Emma’s rucksack. “Where are you off to?”
“Meeting Jasper.” Emma tried not to blush. “We—we’re doing some photography together.”
“Oh yes?” said Julia, with faint amusement. “Well, don’t let me stop you.”
Emma got four steps away before turning back.
“But later,” she said. “If you’re missing your friend. We could eat together in the dining hall? If you want.”
“I’d like that.” Julia looked down, blinking rather quickly. “Now, do get on.” She lifted her chin, and Emma was treated to her real smile, crooked and glorious. “It won’t do to keep Jasper waiting, you know. He’s not used to it.”
Emma hurried down the river path, her heart fluttering in time with the falling leaves. Around a bend, Jasper was waiting for her, bathed in sunlight. He’d chosen a pool in a curve of the river, a golden cup for the afternoon. A kingfisher flashed among the reeds.
“There you are—come see.” He guided her to a tangle of greenery on the riverbank. Together, they pulled aside a summer’s worth of knotted stems. Behind was a statue of a bearded man, his lower half a curve of fish scales.
“He’s still here. I saw him last year, rowing past.”
The statue’s muscled torso reclined on a pitcher. Emma peered inside.
“It almost looks like a pipe here.”
“Old storm drain, maybe? Running into the river?”
Emma ran her fingers over veins in the glass-smooth stone. “It’s old, whatever it is.”
“And perfect for your first shoot. Watch how I set up the framing—”
At first, she barely lifted the camera at all. She was content to sit in the sun, her arm looped around the stone merman, listening to Jasper explain.
