The Last Library

by Freya Sampson

  June didn’t say anything, but for once she suspected Marjorie might be right. She and Gayle had been inseparable at primary school, having bonded at the age of six over a shared love of Mildred Hubble. But when they reached secondary school, Gayle had become friends with Tara and Becky, who thought boys were more interesting than books, and who dressed as if they’d stepped off the pages of a Sweet Valley High novel. Overnight, Gayle had abandoned June for her new, cool friends, ignoring her in the corridors and turning a blind eye when Tara and Becky laughed at June in class.

  ‘You have no idea of the headache this is giving me,’ Marjorie said, oblivious to June’s discomfort. ‘I know you’re single, so you’ll probably never have to go through what I’m experiencing. But believe me, organising a wedding is the most stressful thing that can ever happen to you.’

  *

  June returned to the magazines she’d abandoned earlier, her face still burning at the painful memories of school. Marjorie was infuriating; she’d always reminded June of Mrs Bennet in Pride and Prejudice, but this had confirmed her suspicions beyond all doubt. Here they were, the future of the library and their jobs under threat, and all Marjorie could worry about was her daughter’s stupid hen do. June slammed a copy of Country Living onto the rack with force. As she did, she caught sight of Alex walking towards her.

  ‘Whatever that magazine has done to you, it can’t have been that bad?’

  June smiled, despite herself. ‘Sorry, my boss is driving me mad.’ She lowered her voice and glanced over her shoulder to check that Marjorie was still safely in her office.

  ‘Try working for your dad. Mine’s behaving as if I’m taking over the running of a small country, not a village takeaway.’

  ‘How is he?’

  ‘All right, although I’m not sure I’ll ever get him out of the kitchen and into the hospital.’ Alex stood back and surveyed the library. ‘God, I haven’t been in here in years. I swear it was bigger when we were kids. And less, you know, run-down.’

  ‘We’ve been having funding issues,’ June said, as she saw Alex take in the ancient, dusty blinds, the peeling walls and chipped tables.

  ‘It’s sad to see it like this. I have so many happy memories here. I used to love those games sessions your mum ran.’

  June’s breath caught in her throat, as it did whenever someone mentioned her mum out of the blue.

  ‘She introduced me to science fiction as well,’ Alex said. ‘She must have spent hours recommending books to me.’

  ‘We still have a small Sci-Fi section, if you want to take a look?’

  ‘Actually, I was hoping you’d have a copy of Pride and Prejudice I could borrow?’

  ‘Are you sure?’ June looked at Alex to see if he was winding her up. ‘There might be other books you’d prefer.’

  ‘No, I’d like to read Pride and Prejudice, please. I’ve heard it’s excellent.’

  She found a copy on the shelf and brought it back to the desk. Alex handed her an old, bent library card.

  ‘I’ve got a book for you, too,’ he said, as he reached into his rucksack and pulled out a well-thumbed paperback. ‘I know you said you weren’t sure about horror books, but this is something special. She’s one of my favourite authors.’

  June was so taken aback she didn’t know what to say. She looked at the front cover and saw it was The Graveyard Apartment by Mariko Koike. ‘Thanks, Alex, that’s really kind.’

  ‘No worries. And thanks for this,’ he said, waving his copy of Pride and Prejudice as he strolled towards the door. ‘I hope you enjoy the book. Just don’t read it on your own at night.’

  ‘If I have to sleep with the lights on again then I’ll know who to blame,’ June called after him, and then felt stupid when several people turned to look at her.

  She studied the book in her hands. It must have been at least ten years old, and when she opened it, she saw the name ‘Alex Chen’ scribbled on the first page. June had a sudden urge to lift it to her nose and smell it, but she put the book down on the desk. She glanced towards the door to see if Alex was still there, but instead she saw a hunched figure limping towards the desk.

  ‘I want to make a complaint.’

  With her small piggy eyes, sour expression and substantial girth, Vera Cox had always reminded June of Aunt Sponge from James and the Giant Peach. She came into the library several times a week to borrow thrillers and moan at June.

  ‘What’s the problem, Vera?’

  ‘The children are being too noisy again. I can’t hear myself think.’

  ‘I’m sorry, but as I’ve explained before, we can’t expect the little ones to be silent. They’re just enjoying the Children’s Room.’

  Vera frowned, lines creased deep in her face. ‘It’s the mothers I blame; they just bring them here and leave them to run wild.’

  ‘I’m not sure that’s true.’

  ‘And another thing. Have you heard there’s an immigrant family moved into Lower Lane? I saw them myself this morning.’

  June took a deep breath. ‘Can I help you with anything else, Vera?’

  The old woman sniffed. ‘I think the toilet’s broken again, I can’t get in.’

  June got up from the desk and went over to the toilet, relieved to get away from Vera. The door was locked when she pushed against it. ‘Hello, is anyone in there?’

  There was no answer.

  ‘Are you OK? This is June.’

  She heard a shuffle on the other side and the sound of the bolt being drawn back. The door edged open to reveal Chantal, a sixteen-year-old who came into the library to do her homework. She was hoping to get a scholarship to university, and June sometimes helped her study. But today Chantal’s eyes were red, mascara smudged around the edges.

  ‘Chantal, are you OK?’

  ‘It’s nothing,’ she said, wiping her face on her jumper sleeve.

  ‘Are you sure? Has something happened at home?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘What’s wrong then?’

  ‘You’re gonna think I’m stupid.’

  ‘Of course I won’t,’ June said, as she steered Chantal behind the privacy of a shelf.

  The teenager fiddled with one of her long braids. ‘It’s just . . . I’ve got an English exam next week and I know I’m going to screw it up.’

  ‘Oh, I’m sure you won’t. And I can help with your revision, if you like?’

  ‘Stanley’s been helping me but it’s the exam I’m worried about. I’m so nervous, I know I’ll stare at the questions and not remember any of it. I’m so stressed I can’t sleep.’

  ‘Oh, I understand, I really do,’ June said, recognising the anxiety in the girl’s eyes. ‘Perhaps you could try some relaxation techniques? Or find something else to take your mind off the exam.’

  ‘Like what?’

  ‘Well, I usually read a favourite book, but that might be the last thing you want to do right now.’ June thought for a moment. ‘I know, why don’t you come to the library meeting on Thursday? It would be great to have a younger person there and it will be a good distraction for you.’

  ‘What library meeting?’

  ‘The one with the council about the proposed closure.’ June watched the teenager’s eyes go wide. ‘Oh god, I’m sorry, Chantal, I assumed you knew.’

  ‘The council want to close the library?’

  ‘Well maybe. It’s not confirmed yet.’

  ‘But they can’t do that, I need this place,’ Chantal said, her voice rising. ‘I can’t revise at home, there’s no space.’

  ‘It’s not definite yet, we’ll find out more at the meeting.’ June felt a wave of guilt; Chantal was stressed enough already. ‘I’m sure it will all be fine.’

  ‘What about my university application? You promised you’d help. And Mum needs the computers for her benefits.’

  ‘Why don’t you come to the meeting on Thursday so you can tell the council all of this?’

  ‘I can’t, I’ve got to babysit the twins for Mum
,’ Chantal said, her head dropping. Then she looked up at June. ‘Will you speak to the council for me?’

  June felt a familiar tightening in her chest. ‘Oh, I’m not sure I’m the best person.’

  ‘But they’ll listen to you. Me and Mum need this place, June. Please, you have to tell them.’

  Chapter Seven

  WHEN JUNE ARRIVED AT the church hall on Thursday evening, it was already crowded. Rows of chairs had been set up facing a makeshift stage, and June could see Stanley sitting in the front row. Next to him was Mrs Bransworth, wearing what looked like a homemade T-shirt with ‘Save Our Libraries’ written on it in black felt-tip pen, and Linda and Jackson were sitting a few rows behind. June looked around in the hope Chantal might be there, but there was no sign of the teenager.

  Stanley spotted her and gave a wave, signalling to an empty seat nearby, but June pretended she hadn’t seen him and made her way towards the back of the room. This whole set-up reminded her too much of school, and she took a seat in the far corner, where she hoped no one would notice her tonight.

  As June sat down, she saw a woman and two men enter the room. One of them was Marjorie’s husband, Brian, a man who only ever read biographies of world leaders.

  ‘Right, ladies and gentlemen,’ he said, waiting a moment for the room to quieten. ‘You all know the reason we’re here tonight. Last week, Dunningshire Council announced that they want to restructure the library service in the county. As I’m sure you’re aware, our library is very close to my heart . . .’ At this, Brian gestured towards the middle of the room, and June saw Marjorie beaming like the Cheshire Cat. ‘So, I asked some representatives from the council to come along and talk to us this evening. There will be an opportunity for you to ask questions at the end, but first, may I introduce Richard Donnelly, one of the councillors, and Sarah Thwaite, the council’s head of libraries and information services.’

  June watched the younger man on the stage stand up. He was in his mid-thirties, dressed in a pair of chinos and a crisp pink shirt, with a tan that suggested he’d either been on holiday or a sunbed. He looked like he’d probably not read a book in years, let alone been into a library. Next to him the woman, Sarah, sat with a smile that didn’t quite meet her eyes. June guessed that she read self-help books.

  ‘Thank you for the introduction, Brian,’ Richard said. ‘It’s great to see so many of you here to talk about the future of Little Whitham Library.’

  Sarah let out a small cough and glared at him, but Richard carried on, oblivious to his mistake.

  ‘Now, I won’t beat around the bush. Due to reduced funding from central government and increased financial pressures on the council, we need to cut our libraries budget by thirty per cent over the next three years. As such, the council are launching a programme of modernisation and rationalisation of the library service.’

  ‘What’s all that gobbledygook mean?’ someone muttered near June.

  ‘We have identified six libraries in the county that we believe are most suitable for restructure. These are Favering, Mawley, Dedham, Little Whitham, Chalcot and Lave-End. Over the next three months, we’ll be carrying out in-depth analysis of the performance of these libraries in order to ascertain which are providing the council with good value for money.’

  ‘Value for money? It’s a library, not a tin of beans,’ said one of the Knit and Natter ladies, and there was a ripple of muted laughter.

  ‘Quiet, please,’ Brian said.

  Richard continued, unperturbed. ‘To assist the council in our decision, we’ve contracted a firm of management consultants who will be carrying out this performance analysis on our behalf. They’ll be looking at things like the number of customer visits and the number of books issued. We’ll then be able to work out the cost-effectiveness of each library.’

  ‘How can you put a cost value on all the things the library provides?’ June didn’t need to look to know this was Mrs B speaking. ‘Literacy, social inclusion, encouraging a love of reading in the young. Do these things have a price, Mr Donnelly?’

  ‘I said comments at the end,’ said Brian. ‘Now sit down, Mrs Bransworth, or I’ll have to ask you to leave.’

  Mrs B let out a loud snort.

  ‘Thank you, Brian,’ said Richard. ‘At the end of the consultation, the council will look at the findings and make our decision about the future of each library. There are three options we’ll be considering. The first is to keep a library open in its current form with no changes. The second is that a library remains open but under community management.’

  ‘What does that mean?’ a woman called out.

  ‘It means a local community would take over all responsibility for running the library, including leasing the building, the books and equipment, at no cost to the council.’

  ‘What, like a volunteer library?’ Stanley said, and there was a low rumble of muttering round the room. ‘What would happen to our librarians?’

  ‘Community libraries are staffed by unpaid volunteers,’ Richard said.

  ‘Then it’s not a library, is it? It’s just a room full of books.’ Mrs B was standing up again. ‘A library requires a librarian, with specialist degrees and years of experience. Are you suggesting that someone like me could provide the same service as a trained professional?’

  Richard was looking paler under his tan. ‘Community management isn’t suitable for every library, and so as part of the consultation we’ll be deciding which of the libraries might benefit from this opportunity.’

  ‘What’s the third option?’ Vera said.

  ‘The third option is that the library will be closed and replaced by a mobile library service.’

  At this there was a clamour of voices.

  ‘Quiet. Quiet!’ Brian called, but no one could hear him above the noise.

  ‘If I may?’ Sarah stood up with a bright smile and waited for everyone to quieten down, while Richard took his chair again. ‘Please believe me when I say that we don’t relish having to restructure our libraries. But with the cuts imposed on us by the government, we have to be pragmatic. Library visits are down year-on-year across the county.’

  ‘Bloody Tories,’ Mrs B said. ‘We know what you’re up to here, destroying public services with a hundred little cuts so you can bring in privatisation and voluntarisation.’

  Sarah pretended she hadn’t heard this. ‘Of course, we value feedback from local communities, and we want to listen to what residents have to say. So, we’ll be circulating a questionnaire where you can tell us what you want from your library service. Along with the findings of the consultants, the questionnaires will help us to make a decision about the future of each of the six libraries.’

  With that she sat down and whispered something to Richard, who nodded.

  ‘Thank you, Richard and Sarah,’ Brian said. ‘Now, everyone, this is your chance to ask questions. But I warn you, keep this civilised or you’re all out.’

  A number of hands shot into the air, but before Brian could pick someone, Vera was standing up.

  ‘How will I renew my bus pass?’

  ‘I believe you can do that online these days,’ Richard said.

  ‘But I don’t know how to use a computer.’

  ‘Well, I’m sure you can do it over the phone.’

  ‘But it’s one of those automated systems and I always press the wrong buttons. That’s why I get June to do it for me at the library.’

  June cringed at the mention of her name, but no one even glanced at her.

  ‘Well, perhaps you can get a friend to help you?’ Richard said.

  Vera sat down with a scowl, and June felt a pang of sympathy for her. She was pretty sure the old woman didn’t have any friends she could ask for help.

  ‘Next question,’ Brian said, nodding towards Jackson.

  ‘I’m Jackson Fletcher. I’m homeschooled and I go to the library every day. Where can I go if it closes?’

  Sarah composed her face into an understanding expression.
‘Hello, Jackson. We take the welfare of all children in the county very seriously, so as part of our consultation we’ll be looking at availability of facilities for families. I believe there’s a children’s centre in Winton, attached to the library there?’

  ‘But that’s miles away and my parents don’t have a car. They’re bad for the environment.’

  ‘You could always take the bus?’

  ‘But Dad says they’re too expensive.’

  ‘Well, maybe your parents should consider enrolling you in a local school, like other children your age?’

  Beside him, Linda was rising. ‘Now hang on a second—’

  ‘Time for the next question,’ Brian interrupted. ‘Yes you, Mr Phelps.’

  ‘Good evening, madam, sirs,’ Stanley said, standing up. ‘I just wanted to say that I think what you’re doing is absolutely criminal.’

  June saw the smile on Sarah’s face flicker.

  ‘You have been running this library down for years. I’m in there every day and I’ve seen it with my own eyes: you’ve cut the opening hours, reduced the number of books on the shelves, let the building fall into a state of disrepair. So yes, the library might be struggling but that’s entirely your fault.’

  ‘We’ve been dealing with budgetary issues and—’

  ‘Madam, I have not finished speaking,’ Stanley said, and Sarah went quiet. ‘The council are destroying this village. You’re reducing bus services, selling off Green Belt land to those awful property developers who harass local residents, and now you’re going after our library. What will be left of Chalcot when you’re done?’

  ‘I assure you we have the best interests of all local communities at heart,’ Sarah said. ‘But we have to be realistic. The council need to save money.’

  ‘Right, time to move on,’ Brian said.

  The Mills & Boon mum from the Children’s Room got up, consulting a notepad. ‘Is this even legal? I’ve been doing some research, and don’t the council have a duty to provide library services under the 1964 Public Libraries and Museums Act?’

  ‘You’re right, the council does have a statutory duty to provide library services,’ Sarah said, picking her words with obvious care. ‘But the law doesn’t define the exact requirements of this duty. Many communities find a mobile library service a valuable resource.’