‘Kilsaneys not home?’ I asked.

He laughed, coming towards me, thankfully not angry but amused. ‘They decided they didn’t want any books as it seems, along with the second floor and most of their walls, and the actual roof of their home, their bookshelf went missing.’

I giggled.

‘Very funny, Miss Goodwin.’

‘It’s Ms, thank you very much.’

‘I’m Marcus.’ He held out his hand and I shook it.

‘Tamara.’

‘Beautiful name,’ he said gently. He leaned against the wooden porch pillar. ‘So seriously, do you know where this Sir Ignatius Power of the Sisters of Mercy lives?’

‘Hold on, let me see that.’ I grabbed the clipboard from him. ‘That’s not “Sir”. That’s “Sr”. Sister,’ I said slowly. ‘You muppet.’ I tapped him on the head with it. ‘He’s a nun.’ Not a transvestite, after all.

‘Oh.’ He started laughing and grabbed the end of his board. I held on tight. He pulled harder and dragged me out onto the porch. That close up he was even cuter. ‘So is that you, Sister?’ he asked. ‘Have you received your calling?’

‘The only thing I get called for is dinner.’

He laughed. ‘So, who is she?’

I shrugged.

‘You’re intent on making me get lost, aren’t you?’

‘Well, I just got here yesterday so I’m as lost as you are.’

I didn’t smile when I said that and he didn’t smile back either. He got it.

‘Well, for your sake, I really hope that’s not true.’ He looked up at the house. ‘You live here?’

I shrugged.

‘You don’t even know where you live?’

‘You’re a strange man who travels in a bus filled with books. Do you think I’m going to tell you where I live? I’ve heard about your kind,’ I said, walking away from the house and towards the bus.

‘Oh, yeah?’ He followed me.

‘There was a guy like you who lured children into his bus tempting them with lollipops, then when they got inside, he locked them in and drove off.’

‘Oh, I heard about him,’ he said, his eyes lighting up. ‘Long greasy black hair, big nose, pale skin, danced around in tight trousers and sang a lot. Also had a penchant for toy boxes?’

‘That’s the one. Friend of yours?’

‘Here,’ he rooted inside his top pocket and dug out his ID. ‘You’re right, I should have shown this earlier. It’s a public library, licensed and everything. All official. So I promise I won’t trap you inside.’

Unless I asked him to. I studied the ID card. ‘Marcus Sandhurst.’

‘That is I. Want to look at the books?’ He held his arm out to the bus. ‘Your chariot awaits.’

I looked around, not a soul nearby, including Mum. The bungalow also appeared dead. With nothing to lose, I climbed aboard, and as I did, Marcus sang, ‘Children,’ in the Child-Catcher’s voice, and cackled. I laughed too.

Inside, both walls were lined with hundreds of books. Divided into various categories and I ran my finger along them, not really reading the titles, a little on guard at being in the bus with a strange man. I think Marcus sensed this because he took a few steps back from me, gave me plenty of space, and stood by the open door instead.

‘So what’s your favourite book?’ I asked.

‘Eh…Scarface.’

‘That’s a film.’

‘Based on a book,’ he said.

‘No, it’s not. What’s your favourite book?’

‘Coldplay,’ he responded. ‘Pizza…I don’t know.’

‘Okay,’ I laughed, ‘so you don’t read.’

‘Nope.’ He sat up on a ledge. ‘But I’m hoping that this experience will positively change me for the better and that I will be converted to a reader.’ He spoke lazily, his voice so lacklustre and unconvincing it was as though he was repeating something he’d been told himself.

I studied him. ‘So what happened, Daddy asked his friend to give you a job?’

His jaw line hardened and he was silent for a while, and I felt really bad, like I should take back the comment. I don’t even know why I said that. I don’t even know where that came from. I just had a weird feeling that I must have been close. I think maybe I recognised a part of me in him.

‘Sorry, that wasn’t funny,’ I apologised. ‘So what happens here?’ I said, trying to break the tension. ‘You travel around to people’s houses and give them books?’

‘It’s the same as a library,’ Marcus said, still a little cool with me. ‘People join up, receive membership cards and that allows them to take out books. I go to the towns where there aren’t any libraries.’

‘Or life forms,’ I said, and he laughed.

‘You’re finding it tough here, city girl?’

I ignored that comment and kept studying the books.

‘You know what people around here would really appreciate instead of books?’

He smiled suggestively at me.

‘Not that,’ I laughed. ‘You could actually make some money out of this thing if you got rid of the books.’

‘Ha! Now that’s not very cultured,’ he said.

‘Well, there’s no bus service around here. Apparently there’s a town fifteen minutes drive away-how is anybody supposed to get there?’

‘Eh…the answer would be in your question.’

‘Yes, but I can’t drive because I’m-’ I stalled, and he smiled. ‘Because I’m not able to drive,’ I finished.

‘What? You mean Daddy didn’t get you a Mini Cooper yet? That’s totally uncool,’ he imitated me.

‘TouchÉ.’

‘Okay,’ he jumped off the table, filled with energy. ‘I have to go there now. How about we go to this wonderful magical town that no human legs can reach.’

I giggled. ‘Okay.’

‘Don’t you need to run it by somebody? I don’t want to be done for kidnapping.’

‘I may not be a driver but I’m not a child.’ I kept my eye on the bungalow. Rosaleen was gone a long time.

‘You’re sure?’ he asked, looking around. ‘Please just tell someone.’

He looked anxious and just because of that I took out my phone and called Mum’s mobile, which I know she hadn’t touched for a month. I left a message.

‘Hi, Mum, it’s me. I’m outside the house in a bus full of books and a cute guy is going to drive me to the town. I’ll be back in a few hours. In case I don’t come back, his name is Marcus Sandhurst, he’s five foot ten, has black hair, blue eyes…Any tattoos?’ I asked.

He lifted his top. Ooh he was ribbed.

‘He’s got a Celtic cross on his lower abdomen, no chest hair and a silly smile. He likes Scarface, Coldplay and pizza, and is hoping to get into books in a big way. See you later.’

I hung up and Marcus burst out laughing. ‘You know me better than most people.’

‘Let’s get out of here,’ I said.

‘Are you always so misbehaved?’ he asked.

‘Always,’ I responded, and climbed into the passenger seat in preparation for my adventure out of Kilsaney Demesne.

There were twelve minutes of a comfortable and not-for-one-second awkward conversation with Marcus, before reaching the town. Only ‘the town’ wasn’t at all what I was expecting. Even with my expectations lowered to an all-time low, it was so much worse. It was a one-horse town, with not even a horse in sight. A church. A graveyard. Two pubs. A chipper. A petrol station with a newsagent. A hardware store. Full stop.

I must have whimpered because Marcus looked at me, worried.

‘What’s wrong?’

‘What’s wrong?’ My eyes widened as I turned to him. ‘What’s wrong? I have a Barbie Village from when I was like, five, bigger than this at home.’

He tried not to but he laughed. ‘It’s not that bad. Another twenty minutes and you’re in Dunshauglin; that’s a proper town.’

‘Another twenty minutes? I can’t even get here, to this shit hole on my own.’ I felt my eyes heat up with frustration, my nose started to itch, my eyes began to fill. I felt like kicking the bus down and screaming. I grunted instead. ‘What the hell am I going to do around here on my own, buy a shovel in there, and dig up the dead over there? And have a bag of chips and a pint while I’m doing it?’