Owen couldn't take his mind off the notebook. As his sister, Elisabeth, handed him a plate piled high with steaming sausages and mash, he stared off into the distance, still thinking about it.
"Owen?" Elisabeth attempted to get his attention, before near-shouting, "OWEN!"
"AAH! ELLIE! You almost gave me a heart attack!" Replied Owen, clutching his heart dramatically.
"You jumped clear out of your skin." Elisabeth remarked, smirking as she and Owen made their way to the lounge in order to eat. It didn't take long as the cottage was tiny; it was the smallest on their road, but it was definitely the one anyone walking there would notice first as the siblings had painted it a pretty blue last summer. They'd received a fair few complaints from their neighbours who were mostly retired people with houses painted grey or white or some other boring colour. Owen thought they were making a big deal out of nothing, but his sister had been upset when they received an extremely vocal complaint from Mr Andrews, who lived opposite them. He seemed to think it was 'ruining the view' and 'off-putting to tourists', but Owen knew that the town hadn't had a single tourist in close to four years now - the town was dying, but no-one wanted to admit it.
He sat down at a small, circle wooden table opposite Elisabeth. They didn't look much alike, one of the only features they had in common being the same shade of dark brown hair. Owen had dark eyes, like the earth, whereas Elisabeth had eyes so light blue that they were almost white, like the sky. Her face was the battleground for hundreds for freckles, whereas his was a blank slate.
After they'd eaten, Owen claimed he 'wanted to go for a walk' but his sister saw through that easily.
"Yeah, I don't think so. I see your English teacher at the library, remember? You have an essay due soon, and I'll bet you haven't even started."
"Crap." Grimaced Owen.
"Yup. Get to work." Smiled Elisabeth, pushing past Owen and grabbing her coat from the coat stand. Realising she was going somewhere, Owen readily agreed to stay behind and do his homework, of course planning to leave as soon as she had.
"I'm going to the library for my shift," Elisabeth called to him as she opened the door (painted red), "Wouldn't it be good if you came? To do research on whatever you're writing about?" She looked pointedly at him.
"I don't really think that I need to..." Replied Owen.
Twenty minutes later, they turned a corner and arrived at the library. Elisabeth was bundled up in a jumper and coat, but Owen had gone in just his t-shirt; he wasn't expecting it to be cold.
The library was a lone stone building, ancient like many of the buildings in Kircliffe. Inside, it was warm and cosy, however hardly anyone ever came here.
Shoving open the door, the siblings step inside quite noisily, the little bell above the door tinkling. All heads in the library turned to look at them (which really wasn't that bad at all as there were only two people, the librarian and an old man).
"You're late." Observed the librarian gruffly before smiling slightly. She was perhaps fifty, with short brown hair and kind eyes and she'd had a soft spot for Elisabeth Redwood since she was a little girl. She'd offered her a job at the library as soon as she'd turned 14, which Elisabeth had accepted immediately; it was certainly her favourite of her two jobs.
"Sorry, Rose, it's Owen's fault." She stated, gesturing to her brother as she removed her coat and opened a drawer.
"What? Ellie! No, it isn't! I didn't do anything!" Scrambled Owen before he was interrupted by the old man sitting in the corner of the library loudly shushing him. Elisabeth pulled out a badge which said 'Ellie, Librarian' on it, and waved to Rose as she left. Owen shoved his hands in his pockets, annoyed because he could be investigating the notebook right now. Slowly, he walked up and down looking at the book-lined walls. Maybe there was something here that could help him.
Elisabeth watched him suspiciously, well aware that his sudden interest in books had nothing to do with his homework. Owen was terrible at completing his homework, and his classwork for that matter, as his teachers brought up at every parents evening. They didn't say a word about it, but in their eyes she thought she could see what they really thought - that he needed a real parent, someone who could actually look after him, someone who wasn't her. It surely must be her fault that he wasn't doing well in school, because there simply wasn't anybody else who's fault it could be.
Looking down at the handful of books she was meant to be shelving, she blinked back tears. The first book in the pile had a green cover, she filed it under fiction. The next book was red, it was a thriller. The final book was brown, and had no title. Frowning, she opened the cover. A small, black notebook fell out onto the carpeted floor. She placed the larger brown book on the desk beside her, where it would sit for the next few hours, forgotten. Noticing an imprint on the back, she turned it over.
She saw two circles, one inside the other, and a scribbly word at the bottom that she couldn't make out. Bound with a brown ribbon, it seemed almost brand new.
"Excuse me miss?" Interrupted the elderly man, "I don't suppose you could help me find a particular book now could you?"
"Of course!" She replied, shoving the notebook into the back pocket of her trousers, and walking away from the desk to help find the book. They found it in a matter of minutes, but chatted for many more. After that, Owen was whining to leave, giant book clutched to his chest, but he wouldn't tell her what it was for. She locked up, having not yet had the chance to investigate the notebook further.
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