Faye had always loved old books. Loved their smell, loved the sound of the turning page, loved the weight in her hands, loved the feel of the worn leather covers. Most of all she loved to read. It was magical to her. Nothing else could transport her to other times and places, even to other lives. She felt she had lived so many lives, seen through so many pairs of eyes; books had enriched her existence like nothing else ever could. Faye loved nothing more than to immerse herself fully in a narrative and lose herself.
Her mother had always said these things skip a generation and Faye taken after Grandfather. There was no appreciation for literature of any kind in her immediate family and although she had always been indulged no one shared her passion. It came as no surprise to anyone that Grandfather's collection of books would be left to Faye when he passed. There were so many memories wrapped up in those books; as well as the fantastical stories themselves, so much shared time with Grandfather, Grandad she called him, as he introduced a young Faye to Alice and the Mad Hatter; Aslan and Lucy and Susan; Charlotte the spider; Bilbo the Hobbit and so much more besides. As she'd grown her tastes had broadened and matured but never diminished.
It was a sad coincidence that Grandad had passed away unexpectedly during the night a few weeks before Faye's 30th birthday and now the will reading was on her birthday proper. It was her fiancΓ©'s intention to take her to Paris to celebrate, but now somehow it all just seemed in bad taste. Her mother insisted that Grandad would not want this, he'd loved life and was a constant source of light and joy to those who knew him, but this just made it all the harder for Faye. She missed him terribly and couldn't bring herself to even consider celebrating anything.
The books were delivered to the small apartment she shared with Jon, the man she planned to marry in 10 months time. A total of eight tea chests arrived and a note explaining that there was the same amount again still in storage and a phone number to make arrangements to extend the storage or have the remainder delivered.
"We can't take anymore; we haven't got room for these as it is! Come on Faye, it isn't practical, arrange to have them all put back in storage."
Jon was right of course, there was nowhere in the flat to keep them all, but Faye felt a need to keep a hold of some of them. A compromise was reached and Faye would go through and select 10 books, the rest would go into storage.
Jon had managed to cajole Faye into going out for a meal with her family, eventually she accepted that her milestone birthday should at least be marked if not jubilantly. They both took particular pleasure in Indian cuisine, and a table had been booked for 8:30 at an especially good local restaurant. Knowing they still had several hours to kill Faye began rummaging through the first tea chest. Each book had been loosely wrapped in newspaper and she carefully revealed each beloved volume. All were cherished old works she had read and reread many times picking out just 10 would be hard. She already had a stack of five essential books out of five unwrapped. Her hand hovered over the next book as Jon watched her with an amused expression. Faye threw him a look.
"What?" She cried petulantly.
"Look, we both know each one you unwrap is going straight on the essential pile. We both also know you agreed to hang on to just 10 for now. You've got how many six? Five, you have five already, just pick five more at random. That's your 10. Fair?"
She knew it made sense and nodded sadly without looking up. Jon crouched and placed his hands on Faye's upper arms angling himself to try and look her in the eye. When this didn't work he gently cupped her chin in one hand and tilted her head till she was looking at him through her light brown fringe. Her bright blue eyes glistened with held back tears. He loved this face with all his heart, it was open and honest and truly beautiful to him. She always looked innocent and little bit lost and now with caste of sadness about it, he just wanted to protect her from any harm. He flung his arms around her and held her tight.
"Hey, it's not forever, soon as we're married and everything has settled down we can find somewhere bigger. Somewhere you can create your library."
Faye sniffed, pulled away and managed a smile. This man had always been there when she needed him and had supported her every whim. When she looked into his soft kind eyes she felt more loved then she deserved. He was good and safe and she cared for him deeply, when he had asked her to marry him just four months ago she had accepted. Life wasn't about thrills and excitement, she reasoned. She could get all her thrills and excitements form a book. Marriage to a kind decent loving man that she cared for in a nice comfortable home: that was real life and a lot more than many people had.
Selecting one book from the top of the next five tea chests she carried them to the four seater dinner table and laid them out and delicately peeled back the wrappings. Each was greeted with a small squeak of excitement before being lovingly looked over and placed a side. That is until she came to the fifth and final book. As its unadorned brown cover was revealed Faye could not remember seeing this particular book before. Folding back the newspaper she went to pick it up and immediately pulled back her hand and gasped.
"You OK?" Jon looked over his shoulder from watching TV.
"Yeah. Yeah, touch of cramp is all." She made to rub her calf and threw him a half smile. She didn't know why she lied to him, something just told her this was for her only, and besides saying this book is warm and feels like flesh just sounded too crazy.
Tentatively she reached out a hand and glanced her finger tips across the cover. It was! It was like stroking warm bare skin. She found herself caressing it and small thrills seemed to run up her fingers and along her arms. It was sensuous, erotic. Gingerly she closed the fingers of both hands around it and lifted it to examine the spine. There was writing along the length of the spine but Faye couldn't read it. It was Sanskrit or Arabic. She really didn't know anything about these languages but somehow she felt the words were of a sexual nature. Pure lust filled depraved sex.
She did a quick check on Jon, his attention was back on the TV.