Ella wriggled from one position to another on her chair but could find no comfort today. Glancing around at fellow readers in the No-Tech reading room, she saw only books and paper—exactly what had attracted her to this enclave at the London Library.

At University of Warwick, study hall had been a circus of clacking keyboards, beeping devices, and whispered curses at the assorted technology gremlins, not to mention conversations between people or one-sided chats from their phones.

And yet... maybe it was too quiet here in the No-Tech room. Too aurally pristine.

Ella wondered: What would my main character say next? She searched her mind for something new and original to say, something non-Ella-ish. But she came up blank.

She stealthily browsed in the stacks for inspiration. There was one person here, another person there, but no one was speaking.

She didn’t need much—just a phrase. Just a key to turn the ignition of her imagination. Or a match to start the bonfire of calamities to befall her main character, Guy Incognito.

She crept past the librarians’ counter. Aha! A voice. A very quiet voice. One librarian said to another, “Let me tell you, it wasn’t pretty.” Ella noticed her nod toward the public toilet, but that was irrelevant. Her mind was aflame with what that single sentence could mean when Guy Incognito uttered it.

She sat down, whipped out her pen, and began to write:

“Let me tell you, it wasn’t pretty,” Guy Incognito said to Chief Inspector Jess Bookem.

Ella continued Chapter 2 of the new draft of her novel, working title “Dr. Maybe,” 1200 words that poured out before she had to pack up her tote bag and leave.

Away she went to Shoe World for her shift. Her attraction to the shop was simple: material. “Material” as in “people and dilemmas to write about.”

Thanks to the customers she met every day, she felt much more in touch with John Q Public, the mythical reader who might fancy a soul-stirring spy novel like “Dr. Maybe.”

Shoe World was full of inspiration. The staff loved to trade tidbits that were overheard when people were trying on shoes and they thought the clerk had gone out of earshot to fetch a size larger or a different color.

Last Monday, one weary shopper had confessed to a friend, “It’s gotten so bad out there, honey, I reward myself with a new pair of shoes before every first date.”

On Tuesday, a man had said to his wife: “She’s only a work friend and I wish you’d quit sighing… Fine, get the high, sexy boots.”

Today did not disappoint, either. An impatient dad said to his kid: “C’mon, Howie, no Master of the Universe wears purple.”

Frank chuckled over that one. “I wanted to shout, hey, what color was Charlemagne’s robe?” The staff all had a good laugh at break time. Frank was such a history buff, and so quick with the repartee.

On the bus ride home, Ella re-read some of the Overheard lines in her Notes app. Material. When she scrolled to her New Year’s resolutions, she halted.

I will go to the gym.

I will snoop less.

I will get a new job.

That last one was within reach, she figured. She hoped to become a published author soon. She knew three struggling novelists, and they all worked part-time—not in retail—but as writing instructors, so that would naturally be her next job. But for now, Shoe World paid the bills.

She thought back to the New Year’s party she’d attended two weeks ago. She’s spent it with her friend Anna Cavelli at the Cavellis’ house. The food, the music, the laughter: oh, it was grand! How could she get a family of her own? It was so much fun at the party. Ella wished she had her own comfortable, extended family, not the two parents Heckle and Jeckle who constantly squabbled with each other or flew into long, cold sulks. Could she piggyback onto some nice, normal boyfriend’s family? (Not through Anna’s brothers, though; they both had dreadful buck teeth.) Ella imagined a couple of playful kids, an irresistible husband, and a welcoming home where friends and relatives came over to celebrate on statutory holidays.

She soothed herself with positive self-talk. “I can meet new men, good men.” She said, “There are oodles of men at the gym where I’m working out as per my New Year’s resolution.” She had enrolled for the 6-week Reboot Program at Nordic Balance.

At Shoe World, the employees were back from the holiday break. Besides the avid eavesdroppers, Ella’s workmates included reliable Frank, the pretty new hire named Juniper, and their boyishly handsome manager, Brad.

Thinking of Brad made her blush. They’d both graduated from University of Warwick, which gave them lots in common except he was in B-school, she in Arts. In November, Brad and Ella were the last ones to clear up after doing inventory at Shoe World. She’d agreed to a drink with Brad and before Ella knew it, they’d hooked up.

The next day, Ella called in sick to work. It was too embarrassing, how everyone noticed both she and Brad were the last to leave, and were both hungover the next day. Their workmates put two and two together and came up with twenty-two.

But they were wrong for each other, she knew from the minute he pulled out his phone to take her picture.

“It was the very next morning,” she complained to Anna. “When I was still in bed. I think he wanted to impress his friends.”

“At least it wasn’t during your date,” Anna said. “Can you believe some guys do that?”

So Ella planned to avoid Brad in the new year. At work, she kept it strictly professional. And this was another reason she simply had to find a different job.

But part of her worried that her standards were too high, and she should consider herself lucky to find a man who was working. A man with initiative. Perhaps she was spending too much time with Guy Incognito, the brilliant detective, and it was warping her expectations of real men.

* * *

The chill of winter settled in over London like a deadweight. It became too cold to stay in her drafty, single-paned flat, so she regularly went to the London Library to work on her spy novel, and the sheer regularity of butt-in-chair meant “Dr. Maybe” was growing by leaps and bounds.

One day on her third trip to the water fountain, Ella bumped into Frank. He was taking a good, long drink before heading into the Medieval History section. “Reading about old battles makes me thirsty,” he said. “There’s something about hand-to-hand combat…”

“Oh yeah?” Ella smirked. Why, she didn’t know. Frank incited mischief in her.

They awkwardly nodded and drew apart to their separate enclaves, Ella still puzzling over her reaction.

That winter, Ella’s parents split up. They had always been at odds over politics, but usually agreed on family things. Now it was empty-nest syndrome, so Papa was attending Conservative fundraisers while Mum was creating placards for peace rallies.

Ella wished her parents could behave like normal old folks who bugged their children to come home every weekend and tame the electronics, but by January’s end, it was lawyers, accountants, and moving vans clearing out her childhood home.

Anna cheered up Ella by inviting her over for dinner. Up close, Ella noticed Anna’s parents were also quarrelling, but it was rather cute, like two parakeets bumping beaks. They had a rule, Mrs. Cavelli said: “We always make up by sundown.”

On her way home from the Cavellis’, Ella saw a light on at Shoe World and thought she’d forgotten to turn it off, so she let herself in through the laneway door. Instead, oh my! she caught Brad in the back room among the boxes with the new girl. He was massaging Juniper’s naked pink feet and begging her to “try on some new pumps. Just one more pair. Ple-ease…”

Ella stifled her shriek. Of course Shoe World would attract foot fetishists! Why hadn’t she noticed the signs of Brad’s fixation sooner? She ran out of the shop, tripping the safety alarm as she left. Accidentally, of course.

In exasperation, she gave notice at Shoe World the next day. A couple weeks later, she landed a plum job at Silk & Sapphire, an accessories boutique near St. James’s Square.

On days off, she poured her soul into inventing more swings and roundabouts for Guy Incognito, who was, coincidentally, feeling rather unmoored these days, too.

* * *

A month later the bell tinkled mid-morning at Silk & Sapphire. Frank stepped into the boutique to ask about a silk scarf. They had a quick, delighted exchange of how-de-dos, then Ella unhooked the scarf Frank had seen in the window display and spread it on the counter for him to admire. She felt sad, inferring Frank had a sweetheart now. Another one bites the dust, she said to herself as she rang up the purchase. “Shall I print an exchange receipt?” she asked.

“No, thank you. She never exchanges gifts.” Frank explained it was for his mother to wear when the chemotherapy made her hair fall out.

“Ooh,” Ella cooed. “Sorry to hear about your mum. Hopefully, she won’t wear it very long.”

Frank cleared his throat.

Ella hastened to clarify, “I mean, she won’t wear it very long because her treatment will be successful and she’ll—she’ll—” but it was too late and soon with her thumb she was wiping a tear from Frank’s cheek and giving him a hug.

He struggled to regain composure, and she turned away to allow him that.

A moment later, he lifted the S&S bag in a jaunty way. “You are most kind,” he said. “We miss you at Shoe World.”

“I miss Shoe World… and their Scoop of the Week,” she said. Searching. Wondering desperately how she could prolong the encounter. “What’s the latest one?”

He chuckled. “A woman asked her male companion, ‘Does this shoe make my foot look fat?’ and the guy says, ‘No, it does not make your foot look fat.’”

“Uh-oh,” Ella said, leaning across the counter.

“Last week, it was a little kid who said, ‘Mommy, if I get Labubu shoes, promise me you won’t take ‘em and wear ‘em.’”

“Aww.” She smiled at him a moment too long and the next thing, Frank was suggesting coffee.

“I’ll bring you some more Scoops of the Week,” he promised and they set up a date.

As the day drew near, Ella was thinking more about Frank and his mother. She even dropped by the Medieval History display in the library. Just in case they ran out of things to talk about.

But there was some misunderstanding. Ella had suggested “the coffee shop at Saint James,” meaning the espresso shop that is called “Coffee & Friends” located at 12 Regent Street Saint James. Frank assumed she meant St James’s Café, in the heart of St. James’s Park (located on Horse Guards Road).

It was exactly the kind of mix-up that texting could have quickly sorted out—except that Ella’s phone ran out of power and she forgot to bring her charge-cord.

Instead, she assumed he had second thoughts, and was giving her the dropped-like-a-hot-potato treatment. She was angered by being “ghosted.”

But wait, she thought, his mum may have had a health emergency. Maybe he’s with her at the hospital right now—and I’m selfish to get upset, thinking the world revolves around me.

When she could finally read her messages, she saw 21 texts and voice-messages from Frank. While flipping through these, she received a new message—from her mum.

“Can you believe it,” her mum emailed. “I was arrested for being too loud at a peace demonstration!” Minutes later she called Ella, asking her to post her bail. “I’m only allowed one phone call. If you can’t do it, find someone who can!”

Ella couldn’t make bail, since was not fully processed in the payroll of Silk & Sapphire. So, she asked Anna if she could borrow money, but Anna said Shoe World had laid off all its full-time employees. Ella cried. She called Papa, who was reluctant to pay Mum’s bail. “Fine, I’ll pawn my charm bracelet,” Ella threatened, to which Papa retorted, “Egads, girl! I’ll write a cheque!”

Frank was watching telly with his (sick) mum, and they saw that Ella’s mum was in a demonstration. He heard on the BBC that 200 demonstrators were arrested and being held pending bail. He tried to get hold of Ella, but she wasn’t answering. So, after he brought his mum back from chemo, he went to the station to post bail.

Coming back from Papa’s posh country house, Ella was heading down to the courthouse to post bail using Papa’s cheque. She ran right into Frank leaving the building, looking relieved. Her mum was hanging on his elbow for support.

Ella hugged her mum and said to Frank, “I’m not talking to you. You stood me up. I waited at that coffee shop on St. James Street for an hour!”

Frank retorted, “What do you mean, I stood you up? I waited for you at St. James’s Café like you said and you didn’t show!”

They whipped out their phones faster than a show-down at the OK Corral, each ready to prove their point. Frank was the first one to groan and say, “Oh I see now… I ought to have done a broader search,” and she said, “No, no. I’m the puddinghead here.”

Soon they were giggling and apologizing and ducking their heads at one another, smiling ear to ear. Ella brought her mum home, and agreed to meet Frank next weekend.

* * *

Frank sent a picture to Ella of the Scoop of the Week jottings. “This is the last time we’ll see this from Shoe World. They’re moving to Belgium, you know.”

“Oh, I shouldn’t read these,” she said, blushing because she suddenly thought about telling Frank what she had seen: Brad and Juniper rolling around near the stacks of Women’s 38-40. “I made a resolution to stop eavesdropping.”

“What!” Frank recoiled. “Eavesdropping is… is fun! And reassuring! And informative!” He looked inspired. “If only you had snooped on your mum, you would have known that she was planning to appear in that boisterous peace demonstration, and you could have asked your new boss for an advance.”

* * *

In springtime, Ella sat with her laptop at Coffee & Friends drafting a cover letter to send her novel “Dr. Maybe” to a developmental editor. Yes, it was time to get an experienced opinion on the wild adventures of Guy Incognito.

She discovered the list of resolutions at the back of her notebook. She penciled in the updates.

I will go to the gym. – in progress – with a new classmate, Frank

I will snoop less – overruled

I will get a new job – done!

At Nordic Balance, they came away with some amusing pick-up lines… and she’s got someone to share them with. She definitely does not snoop less. But she did get a new job, although not the one she wanted. Still, she feels she is much closer to settling down with a nice family man.

The end