Bunty was given a reprieve (if you could call helping Mrs McCarthy organise parish records a 'reprieve') from the library for the next few days, and needless to say, she didn't really miss it. However, she was welcomed back warmly by Ms Haxelby - who had been completely deprived of any intelligent conversation whatsoever - and they had a most enjoyable morning making fun of their coworkers and several visitors.

It was late afternoon when Bunty's new favourite puzzle turned up. The Inspector had came in looking worried and haggard as usual, but upon seeing Bunty at the desk, he actually seemed to loosen up a bit, and when he disappeared amongst the shelves he had a little smile on his face. Bunty found herself beaming at this.

He was gone for quite a while. Bunty decided to follow him. Well, she was bored, wasn't she? It had been a largely uneventful day, excepting the incident where the tom cat got in and launched a vicious attack on a very innocent little mouse, who had been sunbathing on one of the warm, sunlight spots on the wooden floor. The cat had snuck in unawares, and had at the very last second yowled a war cry and swiped a mangy, hooked claw at the poor mouse, which immediately took off so fast it transformed into a little brown furry bullet, who shot under the Beatrix Potter shelf, which the cat flew into headfirst and stayed, swiping blindly under the shelf until Ms Haxelby beat it away with a Tom Kitten book and booted the flea-ridden feline outside. She halfheartedly fumbled under the shelf for the tiny quivering vermin, before deciding that the little fella wasn't worth botching her knees for and returning to her desk.

The little mouse had now resurfaced; evidently it had dubbed Sullivan (a very quiet, calming figure, it had to be said) as a trustworthy companion, but when Bunty's heels came clacking loudly across the wooden floor it darted off, seeking refuge between Peter Rabbit and Mrs Tigglywinks. Sullivan must have noticed either the movement or the noise, because he turned around warily. When he saw it was Bunty, he smiled again.

''Hello.'' He said cheerily. ''I see that you're back.''

''Indeed I am.'' Bunty smiled. ''Did you miss me?''

''Not really. It was a bit quieter.'' He obviously didn't realise that that sounded rather rude, but Bunty chose to ignore it.

''I take it no one attacked you then.'' She quipped.

''Not exactly,'' Said Sullivan, ''Though Mrs Ra-'' He stopped abruptly, and replaced a book on the shelf instead. As much as Bunty would have loved to prod at him for what was obviously some choice gossip, she decided that while Sullivan was in such a good mood, she should probably try to keep him that way.

''Did you enjoy Mansfield Park?'' She asked. Evdiently, this was just the right thing to say. Sullivan's face lit up like a sunbeam."Oh it was wonderful - I haven't read it in years, it was even better than I remembered it. Its really clever, too - but Austen is clever, that's why she's still so famous, like the Brontes, but she was never too explicit so her work is taught in schools - not like Collette."

"You've read Collette?" Bunty asked, shock much more apparent than she meant for it to be. Austen was one thing, Collette was something else. Utterly brilliant, but she couldn't remember ever meeting a man who'd read her work.

"Oh yes - she's one of my favourite authors. I've got all her books, they're just wonderful!" Sullivan was sparkling. "They're not very long, either, so I could read them all really quickly. I mean, Gigi was only fifty-seven pages long - and its a masterpiece - but I read it all on a train; actually, I read it three times because it was so short. I know it off by heart now."

Bunty was rather gobsmacked. All of Collette?

''Did you really read all of Collette?'' She poked.

''Yes.'' Sullivan answered, turning back to the bookshelf so she saw nothing of his face, just the back of his head and black suit.

''The Vagabond?''

''Yes.''

''Cheri?''

''Yes.''

''The Claudines?''

''Yes - I said all of them!''

''Even Claudine and Annie?''

Sullivan paused. Bunty watched the red flush crawling up his neck from beneath his starched collar.

''Even Claudine and Annie.'' He affirmed.

''One of my all time favourite novels.'' Boomed Ms Haxelby, who had somehow managed to sneak up on both of them with an armful of returns bound for the shelves. This scared them both into movement - Sullivan leapt about a foot in the air, causing Bunty to lose her balance and fall onto a small, ancient table, which promptly broke, leaving her trapped in swaths of bright fabric and bits of broken wood. She swore, very loudly.

Ms Haxelby surveyed the scene with a sense of amusement. ''Did I startle you?'' She asked, somewhat rhetorically.

Sullivan thought it best not to answer, instead choosing to cautiously wrap his arm around Bunty and help pull her to her feet; a somewhat difficult task, given the fact that Bunty's heels were finding it very hard to get a grip and kept scraping uselessly across the wooden floor and Sullivan, so anxious not to hurt (or worse, offend) Bunty, was pulling at her very feebly indeed.

''Could you not just give me a proper hawk up?''

''I don't want to hurt you or damage your dress or anything-''

''Just grab her under the armpits and pull!'' Ms Haxelby ordered.

Sullivan cautiously complied; he grabbed her under the arms and yanked her upwards. Bunty quickly dusted off her skirt.

''Thank you, Inspector. You're a sweetheart.''

Sullivan looked rather lost for words. He nodded curtly. ''Perhaps you should think about decluttering, Ms Haxelby.'' He suggested quietly. Ms Haxelby snorted.

''There's a suggestion box on the desk.'' She said drily. ''I believe Mrs Portson uses them as firelighters.''

Bunty burst out laughing, and was shocked by the strange noise beside him - Sullivan was laughing too. Quietly, but still laughing.

When Sullivan eventually made it to the front desk, Bunty was waiting for him.

''Get what you wanted?'' She asked, pointing her pen at the stack of books he'd spread out on the desk.

''Mostly.'' He said.

Bunty opened her mouth in shock. ''Oh, did you have your eye on something?'' She asked.

''Dante's Inferno.'' He admitted. ''I'm sure it will be back in before long.''

Bunty was pretty sure she'd seen that book residing on Father Brown's bookcase for several weeks. She made a mental note to check.

Then, a golden oppurtunity arose.

''I don't suppose you could reccomend anything in the mean time?'' He asked, shuffling his books about the desk.

Bunty's face lit up. She instinctively reached for a battered copy of Lulu and Lucia that she knew sat on the shelf beneath the typewrirter. Smiling innocently, she slid it across the desk towards Sullivan with her bright red fingernails, watching carefully to see if any sign of recognition appeared on his features. It didn't.

''Lulu and Lucia... haven't heard of this one.'' Sullivan remarked, turning the book over in his hands. Bunty silently rejoiced that there was no description on the back. His brow furrowed as he stared at the unnassuming cover. As Bunty watched this respectable young man examine the infamous book, she had to fight off the urge to cackle evilly like a witch.

''Looks good. Thank you.'' He said. He gathered up his books (Lulu and Lucia at the very top of the pile, title visable to all) and strode out. Bunty maintained her innocent facade until the door closed after him.

Then she burst out laughing and slid down the counter onto the floor, virtually howling with laughter. Ms Haxelby appeared beside her and seized her with a hand like steel and pulled her to her feet. Bunty, still giggling, tried to take her seriously but she could tell by the way the older woman's eyes twinkled that she saw the funny side as well.

''That was a very wicked thing you just did there, missy.'' She said, grin already creeping over her stern features. ''Just imagine - he'll go home after a long, stressful day at work, and he'll sit down and take into...into...'' Her shoulders were trembling, ''Into that!'' She roared with laughter.

''Oh lord - IMAGINE!''

Her and Bunty were both insensible at this point, shrieking like hyenas and crying with mirth.

''Oh lord, the poor sap... He will read it too...'' Ms Haxelby gasped, ''He will, he always reads recommendations-''

''Oh my- how far will he get?'' Bunty howled, ''When will he realise-''

''Obviously no one told him about it's reputation-'' Ms Haxelby cried, wping her weepy eyes.

''Oh lord-'' Bunty started again, barely able to speak, ''He went- he went out with- oh! He went out with it on top of the pile... everyone will see it!''

''Oh no!'' Roared Ms Haxelby, with the face on someone who could literally not imagine anything better. ''Him - up the middle of the street -oh lord - broad daylight - all proud - no idea - oh lord - my ribs - ''

She clutched the side of the desk and choked.

''Oh bless, oh bless him...''