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The iron gate creaked quietly as she pushed it open, al her horeet her ‘What a silly notion, Elinor!’ she ot back into the car ‘Your books elcoh, surely’
She had been in a strangethe drive She had taken her ti ht in a tiny place in the otten She had enjoyed being alone again, for that, after all, hat she was used to, yet the silence in her car had suddenly begun to trouble her, and she had gone into a café in a sleepy little tohich didn’t even have a bookshop, just to hear other hu only long enough to gulp down a cup of coffee, because she was annoyed with herself ‘What’s all this in aid of, Elinor?’ she had muttered when she was back in the car ‘Since when did you long for huht round the bend’
Her house looked so dark and deserted as she drove up to it that it seearden made her feel a little better as she went up the steps to the front door The light over the door which usually ca, and it took Elinor a ridiculous aet her key into the lock As she pushed the door open and stumbled into the pitch dark hall she quietly cursed the arden whenever she went away She had tried phoning hione to see his daughter again Didn’t anyone realise what treasures this house contained? Of course, if they’d been old … but they consisted only of paper and printer’s ink
It was very quiet, and for a ht life into the church with the red walls She could have listened to hiet hi the shoes off her tired feet ‘There must be some books he can read safely’
Why had she never before noticed how quiet her house could be? It was silent as the grave, and the pleasure Elinor had expected to feel as soon as she was back within her own four walls was slow in coain!’ she cried into the silence, as she felt along the wall for the light switch ‘Now you shall all be dusted and tidied again, ht, and as Elinor stu, which she had put down on the floor ‘Oh heavens!’ she whispered, getting to her feet again ‘Oh, dear heavens! Oh no!’
The custom-made bookshelves were empty The books that had stood on them so safely, spine beside spine, now lay in untidy heaps on the floor, crumpled, dirty, and tra a wild dance on theh her desecrated treasures as if she ading through a muddy pond, pushed theered on down the long corridor that led to her library
The corridor was no better Great disorderly piles of books were heaped so high that Elinor could hardly h the ruins At last she reached the library door It had not been locked Elinor stood there for an eternity, weak at the knees, before she finally dared to open it
Her library was ele book, not on the shelves or beneath the broken glass of the display cases There wasn’t a book on the floor either They were all gone Instead, a red rooster dangled fro, stone dead
Elinor’s hand flew to herdown, its red colossy, as if all the life in it had fled there, into the fine russet breast feathers, the darkly patterned wings and the long deep-green tail feathers that shimmered like silk
One of the as open A black arrow had been drawn in soot on the white paint of the sill, and pointed the way to the garden outside Elinor staggered towards the , nuh to hide what lay on the lawn outside: a shapeless s, grey as burnt paper
There they were Her most valuable books Or all that was left of them
Elinor knelt down on the floorboards, on the wood she had so carefully chosen The afted in through the openand over her, the familiar wind, and it smelled almost like the air in Capricorn’s church Elinor wanted to screae, cry out in fury, but not a sound came out of her mouth All she could do eep