Pages & Co.: Tilly and the Lost Fairy Tales. Anna James

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СКАЧАТЬ and a vague sense of impending doom hung over the table. The squeak of knives on plates and the sound of the dishwasher whirring in the background was all that could be heard for some time.

      ‘Is it really that bad?’ Oskar asked nervously, trying to break the silence. ‘I feel like we’re about to go to a funeral.’

      ‘Well, it’s certainly a funeral for our dear Amelia’s career,’ Grandad grumped. ‘Not to mention potentially the death of the future of British bookwandering as we know it.’

      ‘That does sound quite bad, then,’ Oskar said.

      ‘Come now, Archie,’ Grandma said. ‘Leaving aside our personal sadness for Amelia, this is not quite so dramatic as all of that. Bookwandering will continue, the British Underlibrary will continue. These things come in waves. You know that there was always going to be pushback against Amelia’s approach – those old-fashioned cronies were always angry that someone with more forward-facing ideas got the Librarian job when several of them had been hankering after it. Life will go on as usual, it always does.’

      ‘Until, of course, it doesn’t,’ Grandad said ominously. Grandma gave him a stern ‘not in front of the children’ look and he harrumphed, pushing his chair back with a squeal. He sullenly dumped his dirty plate by the sink, and turned to leave – before heading back sheepishly and washing it up carefully without making eye contact with anyone.

      Once the rest of the lunch things had been cleared away, and everyone had checked for crumbs on their smart clothes, they traipsed out of Pages & Co., leaving Bea in charge for the afternoon.

      ‘Are you sure you two want to come?’ Grandad checked.

      ‘Yes,’ Oskar and Tilly chorused, not sure there’d ever be a bookwandering scenario that they would choose to miss out on.

      ‘I haven’t explicitly checked with the Underlibrary that you’re allowed,’ he said, as if that thought had just occurred to him. ‘But they’re hardly going to turn you away if you’re already there, are they?’ he concluded, more to himself than anyone else.

      ‘I know it’s sad for Amelia,’ Tilly said. ‘But I do want to see what happens when a new Librarian is chosen.’

      ‘You said there was a vote?’ Oskar asked.

      ‘Yes,’ Grandma said. ‘Anyone who wants to put themselves forward for the position can make their case, and then it’s up to the other librarians to choose who they think is most suited for the role.’

      ‘So you were voted for?’ Tilly asked her grandad.

      ‘He won over thirteen other candidates!’ Grandma said proudly.

      ‘How many are there this time?’ Oskar asked.

      ‘Only three, I believe,’ Grandma said. ‘It would seem the situation with Chalk has rather cooled some people’s ambitions. Who would want to be in charge of that mess? So I believe there’s Ebenezer Okparanta – who’s worked at the Underlibrary since time began as far as I know, and a woman, Catherine Caraway, who’s a bit of a wild card …’

      ‘And then there’s Melville Underwood,’ Grandad said. ‘He’s an interesting character. Disappeared for decades with his sister, Decima, not long after I started working at the Underlibrary, and no one thought we’d ever see them again. They used to run fairytale tours for bookwanderers, and all sorts can go on in those stories. But he emerged again a couple of weeks ago, completely out of the blue, and without his sister. I’m sure he’ll talk about his triumphant return in his speech, but he’s a bit untested for the job. I’d put money on them electing Ebenezer. He’s the safe bet, and I’m not sure this is the time for surprises.’

      

      randad had booked a taxi to King’s Cross, and the sleek black car waiting on the street outside the bookshop did not help with the funereal atmosphere.

      ‘You said one of the candidates used to run fairytale tours?’ Tilly asked, wondering about the unusual phrase her grandma had used. ‘What does that even mean?’

      ‘Well, fairy tales are funny things,’ Grandad said. ‘Do you know where they come from? Who wrote them?’

      ‘The Brothers … something?’ Oskar tried.

      ‘The Brothers Grimm,’ Tilly said authoritatively. ‘And Hans Christian Andersen. Lots of people.’

      ‘You’re right – but that’s not the whole story,’ Grandad said. ‘Those people did indeed write many fairy tales down, and put their own spin on them for sure, but they didn’t make up most of the stories themselves – they collected them. Fairy tales and folk tales are born around campfires and kitchen hearths, they’re whispered under blankets and stars. Where they really come from, who had the idea first, which version is the original, it’s almost impossible to trace as we only have what was written down, which is rarely where they started.’

      ‘And can you think about why that might make them more dangerous?’ Grandma asked.

      ‘Because …’ Tilly started confidently, but to her frustration couldn’t think of anything. Oskar sat deep in thought.

      ‘Is it something to do with Source Editions?’ he said. ‘Usually when something is dangerous in bookwandering, it’s to do with that.’

      ‘Yes, you’re getting warmer,’ Grandma said. ‘Keep going.’

      ‘If there’s lots of different versions …’ Tilly said.

      ‘… And we don’t know where they came from …’ Oskar continued.

      ‘… Then are there even Source Editions at all?’ Tilly finished.

      ‘Precisely,’ Grandad said. ‘We have Source Editions of many of the different versions of course, that act loosely like Sources, but these stories aren’t rooted in written-down storytelling. They come from oral storytelling, stories that are told out loud and passed down generations and around communities.’

      ‘And roots are what make things stable,’ Grandma went on. ‘Fairy tales are rooted in air and fire, not paper and ink, so the usual rules don’t apply. Layers of stories bleed or crash into each other and you can end up wandering into an entirely different version of the story with little way of getting out. It’s incredibly dangerous to try and wander from inside one story to another; it’s like trying to find a route on a map but you don’t know where you’re starting from. Not to mention, fables fade in and out of existence; we tell new versions and we lose old ones. So they’re seen as a bit of a risk for bookwandering. Sometimes the Underlibrary would organise group visits led by someone who was a bit more comfortable there, and understood the risks and what to do to stay safe – or try to stay safe.’

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