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And, nothing would have moved her to do what she finally did except for one singular happenstance: the arrival of Jerry Cummings."Melissa Trent," said the voice behind her."She turned and looked into the eyes of the man. He was a man now. But he'd been a boy then: the boy who had taken her in the back seat of that Chevy so long ago. She couldn't speak at first; she just stared."Jerrry?" You remembered. That makes my day," he said smiling broadly."What—where—how?" I moved here last month. Imagine my surprise when I discovered that you were living here. Looks like you've prospered," he said.For a moment she was speechless once again. "Jerry—I—let's have coffee," she said. "I have a million questions. At least I think I do." Me too," he said. "You look great. You're married right? Otherwise we'll be getting a license before this day is out."His last words should have clued her; they should have been a sign of impending trouble. But, she was so taken up in the circumstances and the shock. Mobiles and iPods were strictly prohibited. I opened the heavy glass-panelled door and walked in. It had a slightly musty smell, the sort you only get from books. It was a huge place with row upon row of shelves and a bank of computers down one side. I walked over to one of the consoles and ran my fingers along the keyboards. The monitor sprang into life and I was treated to a beautiful image of David Beckham and his trademark stubble “Hmmm yum!” I said out loud. I looked round but the library was empty. I tried to use the PC, to see if I could find something on my subject, but it was password protected. “Stupid computer!” I said, and continued on my mosey round. I went to the reception desk, but no one was home. I decided to wander around the volumes myself, hoping to work out where the English language section was. As I went between the aisles of books I was faintly aware of an odd noise. It was a sort of stifled, breathless grunt. As I passed geology and made my way towards.
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