What he saw when he looked surprised him. The pages had nothing written on them and they were clean and white, not at all like the yellowed pages one would expect to find in a book this old. Did all the pages have no writing on them?
Just then the waiter returned with Chester's chicken and rice and placed it before him.
‘Thank you,’ said Chester.
‘My pleasure, sir,’ answered the waiter with a smile.
Chester happened to look at the opened book. It now had writing on the pages which only a moment before had been clean and white. The writing said:
He wouldn’t look so pleased with himself if he knew what I had put on to his chicken while I was in the kitchen. That will teach him to make me look silly.
Chester couldn't believe what he saw. Was this what the waiter was thinking?
‘Anything else, sir?’ asked the waiter politely
‘Er . . .no, thank you,' said Chester.
As the waiter walked off the writing disappeared. Chester looked at his meal. He didn't feel hungry any more. And he could hardly complain to the manager about the waiter. Not without telling them about the book. Who would believe him?
Chester left the chicken and rice alone, paid his bill and went. He did not leave the waiter a tip.
When Chester got home he felt exhausted. He took out the book and looked inside it once more. The pages were now all white and clear again. Perhaps it had all been a result of his tiredness. He had been thinking too much about work and about Dorothy. That must be it. There was no other possible explanation: he was simply too tired to think straight.
He went to bed and slept almost at once.
The train was less crowded than usual the following morning. He was lucky enough to find a seat for his short journey. He liked to watch people as they all sat or stood with faces that gave no sign of what they were thinking. Everybody avoided looking at another person in the eye that might cause trouble.
Chester relaxed in his seat. He had decided that the experience of the night before was best forgotten. Who ever heard of a book that read thoughts? The whole idea was crazy!
Then he remembered that he still had the book in his pocket. He ought to throw it away in the next rubbish bin. Yes, that's what he would do. Get rid of the stupid thing.
He noticed that the woman who sat opposite was an attractive, smartly dressed middle-aged lady. Her eyes looked down and her face showed nothing of her thoughts. Chester wondered what she was thinking.