The Last Library

by Freya Sampson

  ‘You sure? I just came from that way.’

  ‘I promise. I’ll direct you.’

  He executed a three-point turn and accelerated down the road. June had never been in a convertible before and, as the wind whipped her hair, she began to regret not having tied it up. Rocky started telling her about the routine he was going to do, and how he’d got a new policeman’s outfit which had been shipped all the way from America and cost over a hundred quid.

  ‘No one realises how expensive this stuff is, Matilda. They think we cut up a pair of trousers and stick on a bit of Velcro, but this is professional stuff, cutting-edge design.’

  June tried to keep her eyes on the road, but she couldn’t help glancing over at Rocky every now and then. His skin was the most extraordinary colour she’d ever seen, mahogany mixed with tangerine, and was covered in a layer of what she assumed must be oil. At one point he reached over to get something out of the glove box and June lunged out of the way in case he brushed against her.

  ‘It’s up here,’ she said, as they crossed Chalcot bridge and drove down The Parade past the library.

  ‘I thought it was a country hotel?’

  ‘There was a last-minute change of venue. Take the left here, please.’

  They pulled up outside the church hall. June was relieved to see the news van was still there, although the camerawoman was putting black cases into the back.

  ‘Is this it?’ Rocky said. ‘The agency told me it was a high-end event. This is a shitty village hall.’

  ‘The thing is, the bride loves the local library, which is being threatened with closure. So, she’s combined her hen do with an event to support the library.’ June knew it was a ridiculous story and she could see Rocky wasn’t buying it either. ‘There’s a news crew here to film you.’

  Rocky’s face lit up. ‘A TV crew? Why didn’t you tell me?’ He leapt out of the car and grabbed his bag from the back seat. ‘Let’s get started.’

  ‘Great. When you get inside ask for Mrs Bransworth and tell her that Matilda sent you.’

  ‘Aren’t you coming in?’

  ‘I’ve got a few other hen do bits to sort out first. Good luck though.’

  June got out of the car and walked away before anyone inside the church hall spotted her. When she reached the van, Tessa was on her mobile phone. ‘Yeah, complete wash-out. No point even cutting it.’

  June gave a small cough. ‘Excuse me?’

  ‘No autographs,’ Tessa said, not bothering to look up.

  ‘I don’t . . . I think you might want to go back in there and start filming again.’

  ‘There’s no point, that’s not a news story.’

  ‘It’s about to get a lot more interesting.’

  ‘What, they’re going to make balloon animals?’

  ‘Please, trust me. You’re going to want to see what’s going on in there.’

  Tessa frowned. ‘This better not be another waste of my time. Come on, Cleo.’ She nodded at the camerawoman, who sighed as she pulled the camera back out of its bag.

  June stood at the bus stop as she didn’t want to risk getting any closer. She watched Tessa and Cleo step inside. A moment later she heard music starting to blast out from the church hall, the opening bars of some R&B song, followed by a loud, shocked scream. June caught a flash of Rocky as he strolled past the door, wearing nothing but black leather chaps and an American cop’s hat, and couldn’t help but laugh. If only Alex were here to see this.

  ‘You coming, love?’

  She turned around to see the bus had pulled up, the driver staring at her through the open door. June climbed on board and was still chuckling to herself as the bus pulled away.

  Chapter Fifteen

  BY THE TIME JUNE approached the hotel it was past one o’clock and she was very late. As she hurried in through the front door, she caught sight of her reflection in a mirror and groaned. She had a huge grass stain on her blouse from where she’d thrown herself on the verge, and the ride in Rocky’s convertible had wreaked havoc with her hair, which was now a giant halo of frizz. June tried to flatten it, but it was no use; she was going to have to go in looking like this. At least the party was fancy dress so there would be others looking equally ridiculous.

  But as soon as June walked into the hotel bar, her heart sank. Twenty or so women were standing around drinking champagne, all wearing the most unbelievably glamorous outfits. There was Becky, who’d come as Audrey Hepburn in Breakfast at Tiffany’s, and Tara, dressed as Marilyn Monroe from Some Like it Hot. In the middle stood Gayle, her blonde hair elaborately piled on top of her head and wearing a huge crinoline gown, a resplendent Marie Antoinette.

  ‘Is that June Jones?’ Tara said, and everyone turned to look at her. ‘I can’t believe you’re here!’

  June hung by the door, wishing she could disappear into thin air.

  ‘Oh my god, you look exactly the same as you did at school,’ Gayle said, coming over and kissing her on both cheeks. ‘You’re even still wearing school uniform!’

  ‘I’m actually dressed as—’

  ‘Where are you living these days?’ interrupted Tara.

  ‘Are you single? Married?’ Becky said, joining them. ‘We need all the gossip.’

  June shrank back as they gathered round her. She had a sudden flashback to these same girls laughing at her old-fashioned clothes or the book she was reading.

  ‘Erm, I still live in Chalcot,’ June said, her voice betraying her with a wobble.

  ‘And what do you do?’ Becky said.

  ‘I work in the library.’

  ‘I can’t believe you’re still working for my mum,’ Gayle said, wrinkling her nose.

  ‘Well, good on you,’ Becky said. ‘I love libraries, they’re so quaint.’

  ‘I haven’t been into one in years,’ Tara said. ‘I don’t know why anyone bothers now you can buy books so cheaply on Amazon.’

  ‘What about your love life? Anyone special?’ Becky said.

  Alex’s face flickered into June’s mind and she quickly shook her head. He’d told June he was spending the weekend with friends, and ever since she’d been trying not to think about him with the WhatsApp girl, Ellie.

  ‘No, I’m single,’ she said, and saw the look of disappointment on the three women’s faces. Gayle walked off to talk to some other guests, and there was a moment of awkward silence while June tried to think of something else to say. ‘So, what do you both do?’

  ‘I’m a lawyer,’ said Tara. ‘And Becky’s an interior designer.’

  ‘Interior designer slash life coach,’ Becky corrected. ‘Although I’m on maternity leave at the moment with my son, Monty.’

  ‘Wow,’ June said. How did they both have such impressive careers at just twenty-eight?

  A woman dressed as Wonder Woman came to join them. ‘I’ve been trying to call the stripper for the past half hour and he’s not answering,’ she said to Tara. ‘Are you sure you gave him the right address?’

  ‘Of course I did.’

  ‘What the hell are we going to do? He’s supposed to be performing after lunch.’

  ‘We’ll just have to come up with something else,’ Tara said. ‘Come on, everyone, it’s time for food,’ she called out to the room, and they all filed through to the conservatory.

  A long table had been set up with the most amazing-looking spread. There was a rush as people tried to secure seats near the bride-to-be. June took a place at the far side of the table and found herself between Wonder Woman and someone dressed as Lara Croft.

  ‘How do you know Gayle?’ Wonder Woman said as she sat down.

  June’s knee was jiggling, and she pressed her hand down to stop it. ‘We were at school together.’

  ‘And what do you do?’

  ‘I’m a library assistant.’

  ‘Right.’ Wonder Woman’s eyes glazed over and she turned to talk to Princess Leia on her other side.

  June eyed the table. There were platters filled with delicate crust-
less sandwiches, exquisite-looking cakes and scones. She hadn’t eaten anything since her toast this morning and her stomach let out a loud rumble. She reached for her tiny plate and piled it up with three sandwiches, a scone and a miniature chocolate cake, before realising that the others had all put a single sandwich on theirs. Next to her, Wonder Woman peeled the smoked salmon out of her sandwich, eating it and leaving the bread on the plate. Both she and Lara Croft were still deep in conversation with other people, but June was happy to be ignored. Once she’d finished her plate, she checked her phone. There were three text messages from Marjorie.

  How’s it going?

  Please send an update on the hen do.

  WELL???

  June put the phone back in her bag and helped herself to some more cake.

  ‘Right, girls,’ Tara said, tapping her glass with a spoon. ‘Shall we play a little game to break the ice?’ She waited for the chatter to die down. ‘Most of us know each other well but there are a few unfamiliar faces. So, we thought it would be fun to play “Never Have I Ever”, so we can all get to know each other a bit more . . . intimately.’

  There was laughter round the table, and June felt her stomach contract. She’d never heard of this game but it sounded ominous.

  ‘I’ll kick things off,’ Tara said. ‘And remember, if you have done the thing I say then you drink, and if you haven’t then you don’t. That clear?’

  There were murmurs of assent, and most of the women picked up their champagne glasses in anticipation.

  ‘OK, so I’ll start with an easy one. Never have I ever been arrested.’

  June looked around the table; no one had taken a drink except a woman dressed as a Playboy Bunny.

  ‘Faye, what did you do?’ Gayle said, shocked.

  ‘Speeding,’ Faye said with a shrug, and everyone laughed.

  ‘My turn,’ Becky said. ‘Never have I ever joined the Mile-High Club.’

  There was more laughter as several women took swigs. June wasn’t sure what the Mile-High Club was, but she doubted she was a member.

  ‘Never have I ever cheated on my partner,’ Lara Croft said, and there were ‘ooohs’ as a surprising number took guilty sips.

  ‘Never have I ever visited Australia,’ someone else said, and lots of the women took drinks. June clenched her hands in her lap to stop them trembling.

  ‘Never have I ever streaked,’ Wonder Woman said, to much laughter.

  ‘Never have I ever been camping.’

  June stared at her full glass, willing them all to hurry up and finish.

  ‘Never have I ever been fired from a job.’

  ‘Never have I ever had sex in a public place.’

  ‘Never have I ever been bungee jumping.’

  June closed her eyes, her heart pounding. When would this torture end?

  ‘Never have I ever stayed up dancing until six a.m.’

  ‘Never have I ever been pole dancing.’

  ‘Never have I ever had sex.’

  ‘June?’

  It took a moment for June to realise that everyone had gone quiet, and when she opened her eyes, they were all staring at her. She sank back in her chair.

  ‘Are you OK, hun?’ Gayle said, and June nodded mutely.

  ‘You understand the rules of the game, don’t you?’ Tara said. ‘Because as a joke someone just said never have I ever had sex and you didn’t take a drink.’

  The tie round June’s neck felt tight and she tried to loosen it.

  ‘You’re meant to drink when you’ve done something,’ Tara continued. ‘Unless you’re actually still a virgin?’

  One woman laughed at this but everyone else was silent, looking at June with a mixture of sympathy and horror.

  ‘I . . . I need the toilet.’ June stood up too quickly and felt a wave of dizziness. She tried to grab hold of the back of her chair but knocked it over and it clattered to the floor, as she turned and ran towards the door.

  Chapter Sixteen

  JUNE BURST INTO THE toilet and slammed the cubicle door shut behind her. Her breath was coming out in short, ragged bursts and she felt like she was being strangled. She yanked off her tie and tried to loosen her shirt’s top button, but her hands were shaking too much and her elbows kept knocking on the walls as she wrestled with the collar. Just as she thought she was going to collapse, the button popped off and June’s shirt burst open. She immediately felt the pressure on her throat reduce and she sank down onto the toilet seat and put her head between her knees.

  Slowly, June’s breathing returned to normal, but with it came the crushing humiliation. How could she have done so little with her life? She’d never streaked or bungee jumped, never been clubbing or danced all night with friends. She’d never visited Australia because she’d never left England. And she’d never even kissed a man, let alone had sex.

  Instead, June realised with a shiver, her life’s achievements could be summed up in one sad sentence: she’d worked at a library and her mum had died. That was the sum total of her twenty-eight years, the miserable epitaph that would be written on her grave.

  There was a bang and June jumped as the toilet door swung open. She hurriedly pulled her knees up to her chest so whoever it was wouldn’t see her feet under the cubicle door.

  ‘My god, that was awkward,’ said a voice that she recognised as Becky’s.

  ‘Well, it’s hardly a surprise. She always was a weirdo at school,’ said Tara. ‘Remember how she followed Gayle round in our first year like a lovesick puppy?’

  One of them turned on a tap and there was the sound of gushing water.

  ‘I wonder why Gayle invited her?’ Becky said.

  ‘She didn’t. Apparently June begged Gayle’s mum to get her an invitation.’

  ‘No way, that’s so tragic. Can I borrow your lippie?’

  ‘Sure.’

  There was silence, and June held her breath.

  ‘I wonder why she didn’t just lie and pretend she’d done some of those things,’ Becky said, after a moment. ‘Do you think she’s really a virgin?’

  ‘It wouldn’t surprise me.’

  ‘God, imagine being twenty-eight and never having done anything. I wonder if she’s got many friends?’

  ‘Well, she didn’t have any at school, so I doubt it. Do you want a spray of perfume?’

  ‘Yes, please.’

  A strong floral smell filled the air, and June held her nose so she wouldn’t sneeze.

  ‘Do you remember her mum got sick when we were doing our A-Levels?’ Tara said. ‘I heard she died while we were at uni.’

  ‘Did she?’

  ‘I’m sure I heard that. And I don’t think June has any other family.’

  ‘Man, that’s grim. Shall we get back out there?’

  ‘Yep. Did you see what Alicia’s wearing, she looks so . . .’

  June heard the door close and the voices fade away. She counted to twenty before she unlocked the cubicle and stepped out. The perfume still hung in the air, sickly sweet and cloying at the back of her throat, and for a moment June thought she might be sick. She stared at her reflection in the mirror: mascara streaked down her cheeks and her hair wild around her head, like some demented clown from a horror movie. There was no way she could go back out there and face those awful women with their pitying smiles and laughter. She had to get out of here, now.

  June picked up her phone to call Linda for a lift, before remembering that she’d gone to visit her daughter for the weekend. Sighing, she’d started to put the phone back in her bag when she saw a text message on the screen.

  Alex Chen

  Hope the hen do is fun - say congrats to Gayle from me! x

  At the sight of Alex’s name, June felt a flood of relief so strong that, without thinking, she pressed dial and held the phone to her ear.

  ‘Alex, can you talk?’ she said when he answered. Her voice came out as a raspy whisper.

  ‘Of course. Are you all right?’

  ‘No. I’m . .
 .’ June felt a sob building and tried to stifle it.

  ‘Are you OK? What happened?’ Alex’s voice was full of concern.

  ‘The hen . . . it’s terrible . . .’ was all she managed to get out.

  ‘Where are you now?’

  ‘Hiding in the toilets.’

  ‘You should get out of there. Can someone pick you up?’

  June took a deep breath. ‘Alex, I’m sorry to ask but I don’t have a single person I can call. Please can you—’

  ‘Al, have you seen my black dress anywhere?’

  The voice was young, husky and female, and June remembered with a jolt that Alex was in London.

  ‘Sorry, I didn’t realise . . .’ she mumbled.

  ‘No, that’s OK. Hang on one sec . . . Ellie, I’m just . . .’ There was a rustling sound as Alex moved the phone away, and June pictured him covering the microphone with his hand. She could make out the odd muffled word.

  ‘Girl from school . . .’

  ‘Lives alone . . .’

  ‘Doesn’t have anyone . . .’

  June felt each word like a slap across the face.

  ‘Sorry about that,’ Alex said when he came back on the line. ‘What were you saying?’

  June was so mortified that it took a moment for her to find any words. ‘Nothing. I’d better go.’

  ‘No, it’s fine. Do you want me to—’

  ‘Sorry to bother you. Bye.’

  June hung up and looked in the mirror, feeling a wave of revulsion at the pathetic face staring back at her. She wanted to scream in humiliation. Why the hell had she called Alex when he was with his girlfriend? She imagined the two of them laughing about this weird girl from school, who was so tragic she didn’t have any friends to ask for help. Or worse still, not laughing but pitying her.

  Fighting back hot tears, June threw her phone into her bag and hurried out of the toilets.

  *

  June caught a taxi home and spent the rest of the afternoon hiding with the curtains drawn against the bright August sunshine. She tried to read Great Expectations, but every time there was a scene with Miss Havisham, she felt a creeping sense of recognition, and eventually cast the book aside. She started cleaning, but each picture and ornament seemed to be mocking her. How can you still be a virgin at twenty-eight? the china girl with the book teased, as June dusted her. What are you so afraid of, Junebug? her mum asked out of every framed photo. Even Alan Bennett got in on the act. You’re such a loser, he seemed to say, as June fed him. You’ve hidden away in this house rather than get out there and live your life.