Free The Book of Tomorrow by Cecelia Ahern

I shook it.
    ‘Tamara.’
    ‘Beautiful name,’ he said gently. He leaned against the wooden porch pillar. ‘So seriously, do you know where this Sir Ignatius Power of the Sisters of Mercy lives?’
    ‘Hold on, let me see that.’ I grabbed the clipboard from him. ‘That’s not “Sir”. That’s “Sr”. Sister,’ I said slowly. ‘Youmuppet.’ I tapped him on the head with it. ‘He’s a nun.’ Not a transvestite, after all.
    ‘Oh.’ He started laughing and grabbed the end of his board. I held on tight. He pulled harder and dragged me out onto the porch. That close up he was even cuter. ‘So is that you, Sister?’ he asked. ‘Have you received your calling?’
    ‘The only thing I get called for is dinner.’
    He laughed. ‘So, who is she?’
    I shrugged.
    ‘You’re intent on making me get lost, aren’t you?’
    ‘Well, I just got here yesterday so I’m as lost as you are.’
    I didn’t smile when I said that and he didn’t smile back either. He got it.
    ‘Well, for your sake, I really hope that’s not true.’ He looked up at the house. ‘You live here?’
    I shrugged.
    ‘You don’t even know where you live ?’
    ‘You’re a strange man who travels in a bus filled with books. Do you think I’m going to tell you where I live? I’ve heard about your kind,’ I said, walking away from the house and towards the bus.
    ‘Oh, yeah?’ He followed me.
    ‘There was a guy like you who lured children into his bus tempting them with lollipops, then when they got inside, he locked them in and drove off.’
    ‘Oh, I heard about him,’ he said, his eyes lighting up. ‘Long greasy black hair, big nose, pale skin, danced around in tight trousers and sang a lot. Also had a penchant for toy boxes?’
    ‘That’s the one. Friend of yours?’
    ‘Here,’ he rooted inside his top pocket and dug out his ID. ‘You’re right, I should have shown this earlier. It’s a public library, licensed and everything. All official. So I promise I won’t trap you inside.’
    Unless I asked him to. I studied the ID card. ‘Marcus Sandhurst.’
    ‘That is I. Want to look at the books?’ He held his arm out to the bus. ‘Your chariot awaits.’
    I looked around, not a soul nearby, including Mum. The bungalow also appeared dead. With nothing to lose, I climbed aboard, and as I did, Marcus sang, ‘Children,’ in the Child-Catcher’s voice, and cackled. I laughed too.
    Inside, both walls were lined with hundreds of books. Divided into various categories and I ran my finger along them, not really reading the titles, a little on guard at being in the bus with a strange man. I think Marcus sensed this because he took a few steps back from me, gave me plenty of space, and stood by the open door instead.
    ‘So what’s your favourite book?’ I asked.
    ‘Eh… Scarface .’
    ‘That’s a film.’
    ‘Based on a book,’ he said.
    ‘No, it’s not. What’s your favourite book?’
    ‘Coldplay,’ he responded. ‘Pizza…I don’t know.’
    ‘Okay,’ I laughed, ‘so you don’t read.’
    ‘Nope.’ He sat up on a ledge. ‘But I’m hoping that this experience will positively change me for the better and that I will be converted to a reader.’ He spoke lazily, his voice so lacklustre and unconvincing it was as though he was repeating something he’d been told himself.
    I studied him. ‘So what happened, Daddy asked his friend to give you a job?’
    His jaw line hardened and he was silent for a while, and I felt really bad, like I should take back the comment. I don’t even know why I said that. I don’t even know where that came from. I just had a weird feeling that I must have been close. I think maybe I recognised a part of me in him.
    ‘Sorry, that wasn’t funny,’ I apologised. ‘So what happens here?’ I said, trying to break the tension. ‘You travel around to people’s houses and give them books?’
    ‘It’s the same as a library,’ Marcus said, still a little cool with me. ‘People join