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brush rolled gently across the desk until it hit one of the books, and
stopped.
    Emily raised her eyebrows, a sense of relief flooding
into her. “Well done, William. You’re doing the right thing. Jane will be so
happy to see you.” Then, as a tear rolled down her face, she whispered, “be
happy.” Her heart pounded and she felt sad and happy all at once.
    A noise from the direction of the ladder drew her
attention. Emily turned to look, and what she saw made her gasp. Standing up,
she moved a couple of paces across the room towards the shelf, then stopped.
    “George,” she said, loudly enough for him to hear,
“come look at this.”
    The security guard walked into the room, peering
around, before looking at Emily enquiringly. She pointed towards the photograph.
    “He stood it up. He rolled the brush, like I asked.
Then he stood the photo up of his own accord. I think he’s gone. For good. He’s gone to find her. They’ll be together now.”
    George crossed the room toward Emily, then they moved
together to stand in front of the photograph, looking at it. What they saw
inside the frame made them turn to look at one another in disbelief. Turning
back to the shelf, Emily picked up the photo and examined it closely, with
George doing the same over her shoulder. It was the same photograph…but not.
    Almost everything was identical; William’s position,
his clothes, his haircut. But his facial expression was so altered that he
looked like a completely different person. Gone was the haunted look, the pain
in his eyes. He wasn’t smiling—it just wasn’t the done thing in those days—but he still looked much happier. At peace, was the phrase
Emily decided she was looking for. She smiled. She
hoped he was, anyway. Hoped he’d found Jane, wherever they were.
    George reached over and took the photo out of Emily’s
hand and put it back on the shelf. Turning to face her, he said, “You look
tired. Let’s get this place sorted out ready for tomorrow and then get you on
your way.”
    “But I’ve hardly done anything—”
    George cut her off. “Tomorrow evening I’ll come and
help you. I’ll have to go round and do my checks every now and again, but I can
be here with you most of the time. You’ll get caught up in no time. And no one
will ever know.”
    Holding her hands up, Emily admitted defeat. It would be nice to have his company, as
well as his help. Though it wouldn’t do anything to help her take her mind off
how much she wanted to get naked and horizontal with him. “Okay. As long as you’re sure. I’ll work you hard, you know. You’ll
be begging for mercy.”
    As soon as the words were out of her mouth, Emily
wanted to grab them and put them back in again. George raised his eyebrows, and
she felt heat rushing to her cheeks.
    “Is that a threat or a promise?” he said, grinning
widely. “Because I think it sounds rather fun.”
    She’d totally written off anything happening between
them because of their working relationship, but as they stood there in the now silent
and ghost-free library, the spark flared up again and burned hotter than it had
before. There was no mistaking the flirtatious intent in his words, and Emily
could think of no better way to erase the weird and traumatic events of the
evening than with him.
    Smiling back at George, Emily said, “Well in that
case, why wait until tomorrow?” She glanced at her watch. “Why don’t we have
some fun now? Does Mrs. Thompson ever come back once she’s left?”
    “No, never. I think she has her dinner then gets tucked up in bed
with a cup of cocoa and reads romance novels until she goes to sleep. Bless
her.”
    “Hey, there’s nothing wrong with cocoa and romance
novels.”
    He held his hands up placatingly . “Of course not. Now get up those ladders. I’ll pass
you the books and then we can put this desk to better use.” He followed up with
a saucy wink that sent heat rushing through Emily’s body.
    She retrieved a spare pair of