Page 89 - The Midnight Library

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music or writing unfinished novels. Where I sacrificed ever ything else on

the altar of freestyle. Where I didn’t give up. Where I did ever ything right in
order to reach the Olympics. Take me to where I am in that life.’
For a moment it seemed as though Mrs Elm hadn’t been taking any notice
of Nora’s mini-speech, as she kept frowning at the chessboard, working out

how to out-manoeuvre herself.
‘ e rook is my favourite piece,’ she said. ‘It’s the one that you think you
don’t have to watch out for. It is straightfor ward. You keep your eye on the
queen, and the knights, and the bishop, because they are the sneaky ones.

But it’s the rook that oen gets you. e straightfor ward is never quite what
it seems.’
Nora realised Mrs Elm was probably not talking just about chess. But the
shelves were moving now. Fast as trains.

‘ is life you’ve asked for,’ explained Mrs Elm, ‘is a little bit further away
from the pub dream and the Australian adventure. ose were closer lives.
is one involves a lot of different choices, going back further in time. And
so the book is a little further away, you see? ’

‘I see.’
‘Libraries have to have a system.’
e books slowed. ‘Ah, here we are.’
is time Mrs Elm didn’t stand up. She simply raised her le hand and a

book flew towards her.
‘How did you do that?’
‘I have no idea. Now here’s the life you asked for. Off you go.’
Nora took hold of the book. Light, fresh, lime-coloured. She turned to the

first page. And this time she was aware of feeling absolutely nothing at all.