Page 220 - The Midnight Library
P. 220
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‘What?’
‘Nothing. It doesn’t matter,’ Nora said, ‘I’m just delirious from sleeping on
the floor.’
‘No worries. Anyway, my sister phoned. ey want her to illustrate the
calendar for Kew Gardens. Lots of plants. She’s really pleased.’
He smiled. He seemed happy for this sister of his who Nora had never
heard of. She wanted to thank him for being so good about her dead cat, but
she obviously couldn’t so she just said, ‘ ank you.’
‘For what?’
‘Just, you know, ever ything.’
‘Oh. Right. Okay.’
‘So, thank you.’
He nodded. ‘ at’s nice. Anyway, run time.’
He drained his coffee and then disappeared. Nora scanned the room,
absorbing ever y new piece of information. Ever y cuddly toy and book and
plug socket, as if they were all part of the jigsaw of her life.
An hour later, Molly was being dropped off at her infant school and Nora
was doing the usual. Checking her emails and social media. Her social
media activity wasn’t great in this life, which was always a promising sign,
but she did have a hell of a lot of emails. From these emails she divined that
she was not simply ‘stopping’ teaching at the moment but had officially
stopped. She was on a sabbatical in order to write a book about Henr y David
oreau and his relevance for the modern-day environmentalist movement.
Later in the year she planned to visit Walden Pond in Concord,
Massachusetts, funded by a research grant.
is seemed pretty good.
Almost annoyingly good.
A good life with a good daughter and a good man in a good house in a
good town. It was an excess of good. A life where she could sit down all day
reading and researching and writing about her all-time favourite
philosopher.
‘ is is cool,’ she told the dog. ‘Isn’t this cool?’
Plato yawned indifference.
en she set about exploring her house, being watched by the Labrador
from the comfy-looking sofa. e living room was vast. Her feet sunk into
the so rug.
