5 Books For Eveline

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36

She had failed. That was the only conclusion she could come to. As she packed her suitcase, readying herself to meet the taxi that would take her to the hospital, she glanced over at the list of locations. Without thinking, she had brought the list up the stairs to her bedroom and it sat there, accusing her, even as she pressed her toiletries into the case.

Time had passed far too quickly. Her efforts to visit and check every one of the four hundred locations had come to naught. At the bottom of the list, beneath the crossed out locations, sat the remaining twenty-one places she had not yet checked. That included the empty house that had once belonged to Raya's parents. If the story in 'For Eveline' was true.

It had become a herculean task. Four hundred locations to visit before the day of her surgery. For anyone else, she doubted it would have taken as long. Her hip had not helped. Even though her innate stubbornness forced her to keep going, even as the pain in that hip became crippling, she had no option but to manage her search. If she hadn't, she would, most likely, have missed many more locations through having to take whole days to rest.

Her eyes closed as she leaned upon the contents of her suitcase, her hair falling and tickling her chin. She had let it grow over the past few weeks, deciding to change something from the life she had known since the accident. The sting of failure threatened to make her tip the suitcase out in a fit of frustration. Instead, she dug her fingers into the material of the dressing gown that lay on top of the other clothes.

With a quick turn that brought a sharp pain to her hip, Purdy reached for the list. Several pages worth of paper that had consumed her life. With a sneer, she screwed up the sheets into a ball, throwing the ball to the other side of the bedroom. Now, she had no chance of finding out what happened between Eveline and Raya. She would never know if they ever reconciled. Ever became friends again, or whether they ever spoke again at all.

She fell back onto the bed, the suitcase pressing into her back, and leaned over, covering her face with her hands. Even if, by some miracle, no-one else had managed to find the fifth volume, she would now have to spend days, weeks even, where the effects of the upcoming operation would preclude any chance of finishing the search. That list only served to compound her failure every time she looked at it.

After several minutes of silent sobbing, she wiped her eyes and looked at the crumpled ball of paper. Lifting her walking stick, laid on the bed, she used it to pull the ball back towards her. She supported herself with the stick as she leaned down to pick up the ball, then opened it up, like the petals of a flower opening as sunlight fell upon it. She laid the sheets on the bed and smoothed them out as much as she could.

The uncompleted list of names weren't the problem. Her hip and the waiting operation weren't the problem. If she had only opened up to Briar, talked to her, told her that she had, indeed, become a dear friend, they could have searched together. They could have shared the book. Now, Purdy could only share her failure with herself.

A light knocking sound came from downstairs, almost timid. Had Purdy still continued packing, she may never have heard it. Turning over her phone, now an essential item, it seemed, she frowned. The taxi had at least another ten minutes before it should arrive. She couldn't think who could have come to her door at this time in the morning.

Taking the stairs down, one-by-one, steadying herself with her walking stick, she could see the hazy figures through the frosted glass of the door. She unlocked the door, but left the security chain attached and opened it, peeking out into the cold darkness of the early morning, to find Celia and Donovan looking up to the door in anticipation. Celia smiled, while Donovan looked out of place outside the café.