It was only after she visited the bedroom of the police cottage did Bunty realise how limited Kembleford's library selection was. Every genre and author imaginable preached to her from stacks, shelves and makeshift storage spaces. She couldn't even begin to describe her awe at the majesty of the place; it was an Aladdin's Cave.
An extension of the Pickwick Club, with the faces of the members watching her from the wall, a penciled illustration that must have been traced painstakingly from the book. She knew he would never have torn a page out of a book.
A true portal to Narnia.
She could have stayed all day. It was like the library but so much better - it smelled faintly of clean sheets, shaving cream and Sullivan's cologne, and though it was sparsely furnished the books more than made up for it: the distinct lank of feeble little chairs and tables built of spider's legs definitely ensured a more comfortable browse, and there was no incessant yowling and scraping of a Tom cat gouging its claws in the door looking in.
It was incredibly peaceful as well - a cave of solitude. That was what was sad about it. It felt more like a library than a bedroom.
The bedrooms at Montague sizzled with life, fabulous guests, lavish parties, other shenanigans. They were cluttered with suitcases and brightly coloured silk and satin dressing gowns, forgotten pots and cut glass bottles of various lotions and potions that gave every room a distinctive flavour, long after its guests had left.
Sullivan's room felt like a bed crammed into a library, rather than a bedroom crammed with books. She could imagine him curled up by the light of his lamp reading into the light hours, rearranging his vast collection kneeling on the disgusting (but clean, very clean) carpet on lazy Sunday mornings.
The life in the room was the books - not the wardrobe of fine clothes, or the bed that Bunty doubted has ever housed anyone but it's single tenant. But the books throbbed and sang with life, an abundance of paper friends, and beautiful sentiments that he wrote down so as not to forget that probably saved Sullivan from being incomprehensibly, desperately lonely.
It seems the bedroom is the gateway to the soul.
She stayed for over an hour, when they both realised that the 'more inquisitive' members of the library would be wondering where Bunty was, so they parted on the most amicable of terms, and with a promise for a return visit when Sullivan was back to his usal self, and not looking like he was going to drop off to sleep every five seconds.
When he showed her to the door, Bunty instinctively threw her arms around him and gave him a quick hug. Sullivan tensed, as if he had never been taught what to do in such a scenario. After she bid him a cheery farewell, she drove off and he stayed rooted to the spot, trying to figure out what possessed her to do such a thing. Above all else, was she not scared of germs?
Three days later, Sullivan returned to the library more or less his old self. Bunty was thrilled to see him, as was Ms Haxelby. She smiled, a most triumphant smile that seemed to reflect off every pane of glass in the building. Sullivan smiled back, somewhat sheepishly.
Whilst Sullivan was checking out his usual stack of books, a most bizarre thing happened. Sidney Carter entered the library.
Bunty heard him before she saw him. She'd been crouching beside the children's section trying to figure out what scamp had put that book in the middle of the innocent childhood nonsense, when the door had banged open and Sid came banging in like a tree falling through the door.
He scanned the room, and let out a 'eyyy' of delight and ran over to Bunty.
''Bunty, how are you - who the hell put that in the kiddies section?'' He said, thumbing the spine of the disgraced book Bunty was evicting, ''I mean, I'm no big reader but even I know that ain't right.''
''I know.'' Bunty grimaced. ''I might stick it under that bookcase over there, it's been wobbling all week. Come to think of it, I think that was the shelf that fell on Blind 'Arry the other day.''
''A buzzing hive of activity in here then.'' Sid sniggered, ''Maybe I should come in here more often.''
''Why are you here anyway?''
''Oh - the Father sent me in to check if Ruth Nylon checked out a book on botanical herbs last week.'' Sid said, taking the wretched volume from Bunty and ramming it under the dodgy shelf.
''For a case?'' Bunty asked.
''For a case.'' Sid clarifyed.
She brought him up to the desk, not paying any attention to the fact that Sullivan was still there. Sid, however, did notice. And the moment that he chirped, ''Alright Inspector?'' Sullivan seemed to freeze where he stood; not in fear, but in some other emotion.
''Hello Carter.'' Sullivan said awkwardly. Bunty felt somewhat guilty. The library was Sullivan's haven, and Sid's intrusion seemed to unsettle him.
''Didn't know you were a bookworm.'' Sid remarked, sidling over to Sullivan and looking through his cache of novels. Sullivan immediately gathered the books togther in his arms and went to leave.
''Well, everyone needs a hobby.'' He said, struggling slightly under the weight of the pile.
''Yeah, suppose so.'' Sid agreed. ''I can see why. You're a bookish kind of lad, I guess.''
Sullivan narrowed his eyebrows and looked concerned. ''What do you mean by that?'' He said, all defensive.
''You're a studious fella, that kind of thing.''
''And you're obviously not.'' Sullivan said. The words seemed to be out of his mouth before he realised, and the whole room sucked in a breath. Bunty knew the literacy was a bit of a sore spot with Sid, and he looked hurt before his face hardened.
''Yeah, well, I prefer to keep smart in the real world rather than burying my head in a book.'' He countered, his cheerful banter-filled tone gone.
''That's probably a sensible plan.'' Sullivan agreed. Bunty watched in confusion. Sid said Sullivan was always picking fights wit him, but now he seemed to be trying to smooth things over for him.
''Yeah - maybe you should try that, might solve a few more crimes.'' Sid quipped.
''I think that's quite enough of that.'' Ms Haxelby intervened, despite pretending not be listening, ''I will not endure petty playground insults in this library. Shake hands or kiss and make up, because we'll have to move those shelves if you want to take out the dueling pistols.''
Both men blushed and Bunty bust out laughing. Sid chuckled. Ms Haxelby eyed them angrily from over her book.
''I'm serious.'' She warned, ''Either shake hands or give him a peck on the cheek, Sidney, I won't tolerate jibes in this establishment.''
The laughter stopped. Sullivan was blinking quite quickly, and Sid started chewing the inside of his cheek. The two men stared at each other intently.
There was another pause, and then Sid stuck out his hand. Sullivan said ''Oh'' and reshuffled his books, reaching out to shake Sid's hand.
Ms H and Bunty clapped and this momentous truce, and Sid broke up laughing. Sullivan smiled, blushing. He turned and went to leave, but Sid swiped a book off the top of the pile and examined it, much to Sullivan's horror.
''Sons and Lovers?'' He asked, somewhat beamused. Sullivan blanched in mortification and tried to snatch the book back, but Sid used his height to his advantage and held it away to examine it, ''This is one of those mushy romance books Lady F reads, by that dude who wrote that scandalous book. What was it called?''
''Oh leave it, give it back.'' Sullivan protested.
''Lady Chatterly! That was it! The posh doll who was going five times a night with the gamekeeper!''
Sullivan opned his mouth and spluttered, like someone had been holding his head under water. ''Yes - I know-''
''Is this one smutty as well?'' Sid asked, with one eyebrow raised rakishly.
Bunty was once again trying to stifle her laughter, and had now slid down the wall. Ms Haxelby, caught between sympathy for Sullivan and amusement, watched with satisfaction. She could see he was embarrassed, poor sod, but heavens it was very funny to see him squirm.
''Is it though?'' Sid persisted, ''You can tell me, I won't judge; I heard you read Lulu and Lucia and all -''
''I did not!'' Sullivan squeaked, ''And I haven't read that one yet, so I don't know!''
''Ooh,'' Sid said, examining the book again, ''Might have a flick through myself if it's any good, not that you'd know excitement after Lulu and Luc-''
''Oh stop going on about that, Bunty planted it on me!'' SUllivan grassed, pointing an accusatory finger at her, but not seeing her as she was sprawled on the floor cradling her ribs. ''This one's just romantic, I swear!''
''Aww,'' Sid cooed, ''You're a romantic at heart, sweet.''
Sullivan managed to grab the book, now so red if he stood beside Bunty's car he would have disappeared like camoflague. He went to say something, and then stopped, and bolted.
Sid giggled. ''A big ol' softy.'' He yelled after the fleeing policeman. ''Who'd have thought it?''
Ms Haxelby hoisted the barely breathing Bunty off of the floor and grinned at Sid. ''Oh, every man has his sweet spot. He just needs the right person to find it.''