The next morning Chester was sitting on his train to work. He was wondering whether he should look at
The Book of Thoughts again when he noticed a photograph of the attractive middle-aged woman he had seen the lady before. It appeared on the front page of a newspaper held open by the person sitting opposite him. Her picture was next to that of an older man. The headline read: TWO DIE IN LOVERS’ SHOOTING.
He didn’t have to read any more. It was obvious that the book had correctly read the woman’s mind the day before and that she had carried out her plan. But it was too late to do any thing now.
Anyway, it was none of his business.
Chester didn’t feel like looking at the book for the rest of the journey. However, he did start to think more about the book. Why, he wondered, had he not told anyone else about it?
The truth was that he could hardly believe in it himself. If he started telling others about an amazing book that could read thoughts they would think he was crazy. And what harm might it do to his career? In any case, he did not know whether it would work for other people. Perhaps the book only worked for him.
“Best leave the book alone for now,” thought Chester.
“Yes, that would be best.”
But the book still sat in his pocket as he walked off the train.
***
The first part of the morning was brilliant. The Manager was very happy indeed with the way Chester had arranged the meeting with the Eastern company. It had been a great success. He received congratulations from all the people at the office. Many fine words were said to him about his bright future. Chester felt very pleased with himself.
Then he thought of his book.
What were they all
really thinking about him? He wanted to know who he could trust and who he couldn’t. He couldn’t trust Shaw, he knew that. But, surely there were not many like him. “After all,” thought Chester, “I am young, good-looking, cheerful, successful – and I’m one of the rising stars of the company. I must be one of the most popular guys here!”
But he wasn’t.
In fact, the book told him so every time he looked at it. At first he thought it was only the older people who were jealous of his success. But it was the young ones, too. All of them. They thought he was clever but believed himself better than they were: good-looking but without any feelings. Some even thought he might be dishonest.
They hated him.
Chester had a lonely lunch at a café near the park. As he sat at his table, drinking strong coffee, he took out the book and looked at its cover. He read it:
The Book of Thoughts.
He opened it. There was nothing there. Not a word. He wondered why it didn’t show his own thoughts. Maybe it was because he already knew them. Maybe.
But what if he asked it to show him his deepest thoughts, the ones he didn’t realise he was thinking? Would it do that? Should he ask it?
The idea frightened him. If thoughts were hidden, perhaps there was a good reason for it. Yet he still wanted to look. It was almost too much for him.
“I won’t do it!” he told himself.” The last time I looked in the book it told me things I wish I hadn’t found out. No, I won’t do it! . . . Not yet.”
The café was becoming crowded so Chester walked back to the office.
Back to Dorothy.
She would be back from her training course by now. He would see her and ask her to dinner. He was certain that she would not be like the other people in the office.
His darling Dorothy.
***
