I sank into the chair and spun it to face the screen. As I did, I heard Kelly disappear behind me, her steps retreating down the stairs in a drumroll of echoes.
As I opened the video folder, I watched Amber look up hastily, stashing her phone in her pocket as Kelly came towards her. It was like watching one of those old black and white movies, except this one was less about grand romantic gestures, and more about mundane things like a textaholic and her boss.
I wondered how many moments like that were captured on the video files stacked neatly in the weekly folders. Each one held unique snapshots of our lives that had been candidly captured on film but never seen. Kelly never looked through the videos, and most of the time she just asked one of us to go through and delete the files from the system once it ran out of space. I imagined most bosses would use the CCTV to keep an eye on their staff, making sure no one was dipping into the register or taking more breaks than they should, but Kelly didn't. She used it to look out for us. If she wasn't down in the bar with us, she would keep an eye upstairs in case we needed her.
Like the day I fainted. She would have seen everything unfold from up here. From the moment I dropped the glass, to the instant my body started to tumble to the ground. Any other boss may have missed it, too engrossed in calculating their weekly earnings, but not Kelly. She always had been, and always would be, our guardian angel. There when we needed her and looking out for us when we thought we didn't.
As I thought of the day I fainted, I remembered the way Book Boy had caught me just in time. It had seemed impossible in the moment, but in the days that had past, I'd convinced myself that time had just been distorted by the migraine and loss of consciousness.
Now I sat with the weekly video folder in front of me, I realised I didn't have to rely on memories. I could look at the evidence, see it all play out in black and white.
My index finger twitched against the mouse. It wasn't against the rules to watch the videos, but I still felt almost voyeuristic at the prospect of doing it. Perhaps it was because I knew the others never watched the videos, and by watching them myself I was somehow breaking some unwritten code we all worked by.
It was possible, but in reality, I knew the pounding in my chest was a result of more than a breach of social etiquette or workplace camaraderie. It was because once I saw what was on the videos, it was real, whatever it was.
I chewed my lip for a moment as the mouse hovered over the folder I needed. I could just delete it and put the mystery of Book Boy to bed, finally.
But I had never been very good at ignoring the unknown or leaving that itch of curiosity unscratched.
Before I could dwell on my decision, I opened up the video file. I scanned through the hours of footage until I saw myself enter the bar. Book Boy stayed outside, talking on his phone while I disappeared from view. Soon, I reappeared without my coat, settling into work behind the bar as Callum manned the cash register.
It was odd watching myself. It was the same sensation I got on those rare occasions when I heard myself speak in a voicemail. It's like one of those singular crystallising moments when I got to see how the world truly saw me. Without the usual stream of hurtful consciousness running through my head, I had to admit it wasn't that bad. I looked normal. Just an ordinary girl working an ordinary job. No inkling of my past present on my face, although my wardrobe definitely needed updating. Even from the fuzzy image on the CCTV I could see a moth hole on the top I'd been wearing.
Moments later, Book Boy walked in, all lithe and graceful as always. Even on film he stood out. It was as if somehow the pixels worked extra hard to capture him, while the rest of us were left with blurred edges.
I wondered how I ever thought I'd managed to convince anyone I was working, because as I watched myself now, I could see how aimless my actions had been. My hands were just drifting from place to place, sweeping grounds here then stacking glasses there. None of it was done with purpose, and all of it was blatantly just a ploy to eavesdrop on Book Boy and Callum. If I'd wanted to ignore him there were a hundred different jobs I could have done out of sight. But no, I'd chosen to lurk behind Callum, pretending to work, spying on them in my own perverse way.
I cringed at how obvious I was.
I saw Callum walk towards the camera and disappear off screen. With him gone, my eyes fixed on the two of us, Book Boy and me, as we engaged in stilted conversation. At the time I hadn't realised it, but now as I watched, I could see how I'd angled myself towards him, and he'd twisted ever so slightly towards me. It was a minor shift, but the body language before me made my stomach squirm.
I pushed down the questions those actions raised, and instead focussed on the events in question as they unfolded before me in slow precise movements. Like a well-choreographed routine, one hand took the glass and the other picked up the tongs. Then, all at once the glass started to fall and my body followed it. And just as I'd thought, Book Boy was there before I could hit the ground.
I rewound the last few frames and replayed them half as fast.
There, in shades of grey, I saw what I had suspected, but also what I hadn't. It wasn't just that he was fast, it was more than he moved before my body showed any inkling that it was about to fall.
In slow motion, I watched as he took long steady strides around the counter, twisting around the end of the bar before scooping me into his arms. His speed was fast enough to reach me in time, but not so fast that it would raise suspicion. A perfect balance. It wouldn't have been fast enough if he hadn't moved before the glass had left my hand. But he did. It wasn't by much, barely even a frame, but I saw him react just before my grasp around the glass loosened. Just before it was feasible for any human to react.
As if all that wasn't enough to vindicate my suspicions, there was something else. It was tiny, and it was probably nothing more than an artefact rendered by the cheap CCTV system Kelly had installed, but it was definitely there.
I noticed it the second he rounded the corner of the counter. His eyes were fixed on my falling figure, a look of intent just about visible through the furrow of his brow and firm set of his jaw. Maybe if he wasn't so pretty to look at, I might not have paid his face much attention, but I did and that was when I saw it. A momentary flash of light where his dark eyes once were. Like the silvery glow of a nocturnal predator whenever they were caught on camera.
It's probably nothing, I thought, but my hand moved to open a video from one of the previous weeks. One where Book Boy had sat at his table for hours on end.
I scrubbed through the video until I saw him walk in. From the downwards angle of the camera I could tell it was him, but there was no direct shot of his face. I watched him walk towards his table with a handful of fluid steps and situate himself in his usual position. At no point did his eyes meet the camera, and as I looked at where he sat, there was no way they could. His back was facing the camera, placing him in the perfect position to see the door and the counter without any of the cameras in the bar seeing his face. Even the newly discovered camera on the mezzanine only just caught the top of his head.
Was it just a coincidence? Had he just happened to have found the one table in the whole bar where he could avoid having his face filmed? Was the flash in his eyes no more than a momentary glitch in the software?
If the answer was 'no' to all of those questions, then what did that mean? What do I do? How do I react next time I see him?
Could I ever pretend not to know the things I did?
The questions buzzed through my head like angry bees as I worked through the remaining videos. Kelly kept me from insanity by supplying a steady stream of hot coffee and muffins, as promised. By the end of the day, I'd deleted the weekly folders as Kelly had asked. All except one.
I kept the video from my fall open, the image was frozen on the second his eyes flashed with the bright white reflection.
Now I could see it laid out in front of me, I knew all the quirks I'd picked up on weren't quirks at all. They were symptoms of something far bigger than I'd thought. They were evidence that the guy we'd all named Book Boy wasn't a boy at all. He was something else entirely, and as I snapped a photo of the image frozen on the screen, I decided then and there that I was going to find out what.
I dithered over whether to keep the video or not, but after a lot of thought I deleted it. It was what I'd been asked to do. Or at least that was the lie I told myself. Deep down, where the lies couldn't reach, I knew why I deleted the video. Although I'd never say it aloud, there was a sick masochistic part of me that liked the idea of being the only person who knew Book Boy's secret and a sicker part still that enjoyed the danger that came with that title.
For the first time in years I felt my veins sizzle with the thrill of the unknown, making my limbs feel tingly and light. I hadn't felt this way since Mr R and I'd forgotten how intoxicating it could be.
With my body on edge, I couldn't help but jump as Kelly opened the office door, flicking on the light. I hadn't even realised the room had grown dark, but as I glanced out the window, I could see the sun had long since set.
"All done?" she asked, and I caught the light tone at the end of her question. It was her 'I have a favour' voice.
"Yep." I popped the 'p' and followed it quickly with a question of my own. "What do you need?"
She flashed me a guilty smile and reached from her coat and bag on the back of the door. "Danny's asked if I want to grab a drink. You know the drummer from the band?"
I nodded with a smile as I pictured the guy showing off with his drumsticks a couple of Saturdays ago.
"Anyway, I know you've been cooped up here all day, and I really hate to ask but..."
"Go and have fun. I'll lock up."
"You don't mind?" she gasped as she folded her arms into the green winter coat that brought out her eyes and wrapped a thick mauve scarf around her neck. "Just I haven't been on a date in forever, and I need to wash my hair, and..."
"Stop jabbering and scoot," I teased, shutting down the computer and grabbing my coffee cup to take down and clean. I arched my back and heard it click in complaint. All the sitting and leaning forward to watch the screen had given me an ache between my shoulder blades.
"Thank you so much, Anna. You're a life saver," she gushed as we made our way downstairs. With each step I pushed my discovery to the back of my mind.
"Don't do anything Callum wouldn't do," I called as she dashed for the door.
"That doesn't rule much out." She grinned as she gave me a quick wave and clanged the door behind her.
I cast a quick glance around the bar and was pleased to see Amber and Callum had finished most of the clear up before they left. It was one of the few days in the week where the bar didn't stay open until late, so all I had to do was wait until the final customers left, cash up, and then lock the doors behind me.
I looked at the clock hanging above the doorway at the end of the bar and calculated I had thirty minutes until I had to start chasing people out, and another fifteen after that until I had to get snarky with them. If they hadn't left by then, then I wasn't responsible for what came out my mouth.
A short while later, I was refilling the sugar caddies on each of the table when I heard the bell ring behind me. The soft winter breeze that followed tickled against my arms, bringing with it the subtle scent I knew belonged to one person, and one alone. I didn't turn, but I felt him walk past me, like the air compressed and undulated as he passed through it.
In that serendipitous moment it felt like the world around me shifted, like the veil hiding the future from view slipped ever so slightly and the feeling of the unknown started to fall away.
Up until now I hadn't thought what I would do with my evening. I'd just assumed I'd while away my hours as I always did, the same way I had for the past four years and would continue to do for the foreseeable future. But now, as I took a sly glance in his direction, I knew this night wouldn't be like all those others. Tonight, the feeling of change was in the air.