Chapter 5
Chapter 5
Ethel Montgomery had worked in the library in Little Whinging for forty years. Now nearly a decade after her husband had passed her routine remained the same. She had never had children and was an orphan herself, most her friends had also passed in recent years so Ethel was lonely, debating if she should get a cat and more importantly bored of the monotony of her days. It was a windy Tuesday in February when she first heard the rustling and quiet hisses in the locked back room.
Frowning at the locked beige door she decided she must be imaging it. The next day though, she heard it again. Every day for the rest of the week she heard it. Was she finally going senile? Was the end near? Did the library have mice? She hoped not, rodents could be such a hassle. They’d had mice before and the palaver to get rid of the little cheese thieves, Ethel did not want to go through it again not at her age. She resolved to ignore the voices and studiously avoided the back room all the way up 'til the end of March when Arabella Figg from a few streets over came in asking after a very particular book. A book that Ethel knew she would only find in the backroom.
About five or six years before an overly zealous parish councillor had made the library pack up all their occult books and keep them under lock and key, far from the impressionable youth. The books ranged from herbal remedies to even some fairy tales, all kept tucked away in the back room. Ethel had never liked Arabella Figg from the day she had spawned into existence in Little Whinging with her veritable pack of cantankerous cats with silly cutesy names giving all elderly single ladies a bad name as far as Ethel was concerned and now she was requesting The Book of Kitchen Witchcraft by Wanda Wiggly; Ethel had half a mind to refuse out of spite. The problem was Ethel liked her job and really, at her age, she shouldn’t be scared of a room so she steeled her resolve and marched to the backroom. The lock clicked softly and she pushed the door open on squeaky hinges.
She had expected the room to be as she left it months ago; dusty and draped in white sheets as if the bookshelves were dressed up for Halloween. She did not expect the neat pile of sheets in the corner, spotless bookshelves and a small boy and a snake surrounded by piles of occult books staring at her with horrified eyes, in fact the snake looked horrified too. Ethel backed slowly out of the room, shutting the door again, only breaking eye contact with the boy when the door greeted the door frame. Eyes wide she walked back to Mrs Figg. “We don’t appear to have the book you have requested, I suggest you look elsewhere.” she said almost robotically and stood stock still watching the downcast woman leave. When the library doors had shut behind her, Ethel glanced quickly around the library, and it was most definitely empty. “Please let me be hallucinating, please let it be a ghost, please let it be a dream.” she whispered to herself as she walked back to the room gripping the door knob in a sweaty palm and walking in.
The sheets were still piled neatly in the corner, and there was a distinct lack of dust but no books littered the floor and no boy or snake took centre stage. Ethel breathed a sigh of relief and then made a mental note to organise a check up at the local GP because clearly her age was starting to catch up to her.