Page 58 of The Book Swap

There it is. The offer I’ve hoped for since I started here. If I could just get to that point, I’d be stable. Successful. Sorted. Joel appears in my mind. What he said about his own job, and how he’d never do it if he had a passion the way I did.

I ask Dorothy for time to think about it and instead of going back to my desk, I walk right past it and down the stairs, out onto the street.

Legs shaking, I sit down on the bench in the little park, resting my elbows on my knees. This is good for me. It’s a good opportunity. The money will be a lot more than I’m on already. The people are fine. It’s a decent job. I’m good at it. I don’t know if I want to do it.

Scanning back through the last few years, I’m not even sure how I ended up here. I’m starting to wonder if everything I wrote to Erin in response to her questions is bullshit. Another lie. I told her everything happens for a reason, but how can a career in corporate training be leading me toward becoming an author? It isn’t. It’s purely providing me with the money to finance it. I’ve given that so much importance. Watched my bank balance grow, while allowing everything around me to fall apart.

If I could do anything at all, I’m not sure this is it, but what other options do I have?

Picking up my phone, I call Dad. I didn’t get around to it post-run this morning, and now I have a desire to hear his voice. To add some normality to my life.

“It hasn’t been good here,” he says, when we’ve got the fake pleasantries out of the way. “Your mum was up all night for a few days. We’ve altered the medication and it seems to be working for the time being. She’s a bit more stable.”

I know this cycle. They’ll need me soon and my first reaction is relief. I’ll have to delay my answer on the job offer. Leave London for a while. I close my eyes and lift my head to the sky, taking a deep breath. Springing forward as I realize what else it means. No more book exchange. I’d be away from the library. From the one person who’s causing me equal parts pain and joy.

“Do you need me to come?” I ask and I don’t know what I want the answer to be.

“I can handle it for now. She hasn’t crashed yet and she’s at least responding to me when I tell her to rest. Well, she is now. She wasn’t having any of it at 4:00 a.m. for a while.”

“You must be exhausted.”

“I’m okay,” he replies, the way I knew he would. The way he always does, no matter what’s happening. Sometimes I’d feel so much better if he just complained a bit. Said something bad about her. He never has. Not once. I’ve only ever noticed the slightest tone of irritation in his voice.

“You should get some sleep now too, while you can.”

“I will. It’s just...there’s a fair amount of clearing up to do.” That means Mum’s absolutely trashed the place.

“I’ll come home soon. See if I can help out a bit.”

“That would be nice.”

I swallow. I know what will cheer him up. “I just got offered a director role at work.”

The moment the words are out of my mouth, I sort of wish I hadn’t told him. Now there’s no way I can turn it down. Except he doesn’t respond the way I thought he would.

“Is that something you want?” he asks, and I find myself shaking my head.

“I don’t know, but it’s something I can do. Maybe that’s enough.”

“Maybe. But there’s lots of things you can do. Don’t waste your heart’s calling on saying yes to something, just because you know you can do it. The straightforward route isn’t always the best one.”

I think about Dad, and what he’s missed out on with his own calling, by focusing on Mum.

“Did you know some DJ’s done a remix of your song?” I blurt out.

“I do.” He laughs, and I hear the familiar sound of water going into the mug. The tink of the teaspoon against it. “He messaged my agent. He—” He stops.

“He what?”

“Oh, he wanted me to go on some tour with him. Come out on stage and surprise the crowds. Something silly like that. They sent me through the dates, in case I was interested and God, the man’s playing everywhere.”

“You should do it, Dad.”

“Absolutely not.”

“But it—”

“No, James. Not with your mother the way she is. Not when the house is a mess and someone’s got to sort it.” There it is. The only tiny sign he’ll give that his life’s in any way difficult.

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