Tales From The Bookshop — The Vixen

Ted tells us about another customer in his bookshop. One that scared the life out of him

Alright? Ted ’ere. I’m just calming down. I’ve ’ad a proper scare, ain’t I? Let me explain. 

I was in the shop, puttin’ price labels on a box of second-hand thrillers. The door chimes. I’m glad. A customer. I don’t get many of them these days. 

But wait. I’m bloody sure the air turned colder. I am, right? And I know why. This lass that came in? I’m tellin’ ya, she was like some sort of demonic being. 

I know wha’ yer thinkin’. “C’mon, Ted, who was it really?” Wait while I tell yer. 

I watched her over me box of books. She had a short black skirt, black fishnets and Doc Marten boots. T‑shirt with writing that looked like a hedgerow that needed a prune, and an image of a bleedin’ skull. That’s not me swearin’. I mean the skull. It were bleedin’. Black leather jacket with chrome studs on the collar and cuffs. 

And her makeup? Bloody hell. Black eyeliner, black nail polish. Her hair was long and black. I’m tellin’ yer, she was like a vixen or somethin’. And up to no good. Had to be. 

I was sweatin’, hopin’ she wouldn’t come over to me. But yeah, of course she did. That’s when I got me shock. 

—Alright, mate? 

—Er, yeah. 

—I’m looking for a book called In Search Of Schrödinger’s Cat by John Gribbin. Can you help me out? 

—Er… 

—You alright, mate? You look like you’ve seen a ghost. 

—Er, I dunno… Erm… I’ll… oh, bloody ’ell. 

—Hang on, mate! I know. You’re worried I’m here to cause trouble or something? Nick stuff? 

—Er… a bit… 

—Nah, you daft bugger! I like Death Metal music, is all. That’s why I dress like this. Bolt Thrower, Cannibal Corpse and the like. 

Death Metal? I thought, bloody hell, I’m still listening to John Lee Hooker and she’s into the soundtrack of the apocalypse. 

—Ooh… 

—Yeah, I’m studying quantum physics at the moment. It’s bloody well cool. 

—Ah, right, yeah— 

—Yeah, my favourite is the uncertainty principle. 

I like that one meself, as it happens. This scary but otherwise pleasant young lady got me thinking. 

—Ah, yes. That is a good one. The “Can’t Know It All” Rule. 

—Yeah, man! That’s great! You can’t know exactly where something is and how fast it’s going at the same time. The more you know about one, the fuzzier the other gets. Nature literally keeps some secrets hidden. 

—Spot on! Brilliant, I said. Then I got worried again. She was staring at me with those deep, dark eyes. 

—Well? Have you got the book? 

Daft bugger. 

—Wha’? Oh yeah, of course. 

I took her to the science section and found the book. She was well happy. She did a little mosh‑pit move and put her fingers up like horns. 

—Ta, mate, nice chatting to you! 

—Likewise. 

She turned, stuck her earbuds in and head‑banged her way out of the shop. 

I thought about quantum physics. And got a right good example. 

It’s like me thinking that lass was coming in to curse me and nick me books, and then checking the CCTV and seeing what actually ’appened: a lovely lass who paid in full and left me completely wrong‑footed. 

Turns out you can’t know everything about people at first glance. The more sure you are you’ve got ’em pegged, the fuzzier the truth gets. Nature keeps its little secrets. And so does the bookshop.