Lyrebird. Cecelia Ahern
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three people my soup,’ she smiles, and to Solomon, ‘That’s the first time I’ve done that in ten years.’
‘Four people,’ Rachel says. ‘Can I have seconds?’
Laura laughs. She likes Rachel, this is obvious. She is wary of Bo. With Solomon, everyone knows it’s a sure thing.
Laura suggests cleaning her clothes, something Bo isn’t interested in. She doesn’t scrunch up her nose but it’s a similar reaction.
‘How about we film you reading?’ Bo asks. ‘Books are an important part of your life, aren’t they?’
‘Of course, I read every day.’
‘They’re your connection to the world?’
‘I’d say they are the only things that aren’t my connection to the world,’ Laura replies. ‘They’re entertainment, escape.’
‘Yes,’ Bo says, though she’s too busy planning her next shot to process the answer. ‘Where do you usually read?’
‘In lots of places. In here. Outside.’
‘Let’s go outside, show us where you’d go.’
‘It depends on the time of year, on the day, on the time of day, on the light,’ she says. ‘I walk around until I find somewhere that feels right.’
‘Let’s do that then,’ Bo says, smiling and when Laura isn’t looking, she steals a look at her watch. It’s not that Bo isn’t interested – she is, she can’t have enough information – it’s that time has never been her friend. There is too much to do, and not enough time to do it in. The aim is to do everything, quickly, so that she doesn’t miss a thing, and of course in doing things so quickly all the time, she is missing things, as Solomon constantly warns her.
Solomon accompanies Laura to her bookshelf, which is overflowing. Books are piled up on the floor all around.
‘Do you have a favourite one?’ he asks.
She picks up one, an erotic romance A Rock and a Hard Place, and shows it to him. She then makes the sound she heard from the previous night, Bo’s sounds of pleasure. She is quiet enough so that Bo doesn’t hear her. Solomon laughs and shakes his head.
‘You’re in love with her?’ Laura asks.
He’s so taken aback by the question he’s not sure how to answer. He should know how to answer, but he can’t bring himself to address it.
She mimics his awkward throat-clear.
‘I’m surprised Bridget brought you that book,’ he changes the subject.
‘I’ve never met her but I was surprised too,’ she laughs. ‘There was a whole box of them. Second-hand, church sale. A virgin named Betty Rock and naughty Nathan the window cleaner. They get a lot of suds in a lot of places.’
They both laugh.
‘No. This is my favourite. I’ve read it over fifty times.’ She hands him a picture book.
‘There’s no words,’ he flicks through it.
‘Words are often over-rated,’ she says.
‘What’s it about?’
‘A tree that turns into a woman.’
‘Just like Bo said,’ Solomon says sarcastically, studying it. ‘Your connection to the world.’
She laughs.
He looks at the cover. Rooted. ‘What’s it about?’
‘There’s a tree in a park. A busy city park. It’s hundreds of years old and it watches people every day. Children playing with a ball, mothers walking their babies in prams, people jogging, couples arguing. Life. As time goes by, the more she absorbs the life around her, the more human the tree becomes. Her bark turns into skin, her leaves to hair, her branches to arms. She shrinks. Until one day she is no longer a tree, she’s a beautiful young woman. She uproots her feet from the soil and she walks out of the park.’
‘Interesting,’ Solomon says, flicking through the pages.
‘You can read it, if you like,’ she offers it to him.
‘Does she walk out of the park naked?’ he asks. ‘Nudity is a must in a book with pictures.’
‘That’s revealed on the pop-up page.’ She smiles.
He laughs and studies her, curiously.
She looks up at him, not at all self-conscious under his greedy gaze. She doesn’t seem to mind his attention, so he drinks her in a little more.
He takes a deep breath, lets it out slowly. ‘Thanks for the book. I’ll return it to you in the same condition. Actually, I have a book for you.’ Solomon takes a paperback from his audio bag. ‘Bridget brought it here on Thursday. I’m sure it’s for you.’
Solomon had to hand it to Bo. As soon as Bridget mentioned that Tom was an avid reader, she’d known something was up. He wonders what else she can sense.
Laura takes the book from him, her energy completely changing. It’s the last book she received from her father, even if he hadn’t chosen it, even if he never gave it to her, even if he never touched it, or knew what it was. He’d asked for it for her. She hugs it close to her.
‘Let’s go,’ Solomon says. ‘So, how do you clean your clothes?’ he asks as they pick up their gear and prepare to go outside.
‘The dry cleaner’s at the top of the mountain, beside the nightclub,’ Laura says, seriously. ‘But Bo didn’t want to know about that.’
Solomon throws his head back and laughs heartily.
Laura takes a note of that beautiful sound, records it in her mind, replays it over and over.
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