She stared at it, unsure what to do next. ‘Do you have to do this? Please, can’t you keep the library’s normal hours until the consultation ends?’
Richard looked at her for a moment. ‘What did you think would happen? That you could humiliate the council on the news and we’d just let you get away with it?’
‘If you’re angry at me then go ahead and sack me. But please, don’t punish the whole community because of something I did.’
He let out a dry laugh. ‘Perhaps you should have thought about that before you pulled your little stunt? You have no one to blame but yourself for the library hours being cut.’
‘Please, Richard. I’m begging you.’
‘I suggest you leave the premises now. You’re breaking the terms of your suspension and I’ll have to call the police.’
June took one last glance around the library. She felt her eyes start to well up, so she turned and ran out the door.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
JUNE SPENT THE REST of the week hiding at home. She couldn’t sleep and had no appetite. She tried reading Sense and Sensibility, but not even Elinor Dashwood and Edward Ferrars could cheer her up. Richard’s words ran through her mind on an agonising loop. Did you think we’d let you get away with humiliating the council? You have no one to blame but yourself for the library hours being cut.
June paced the house like a caged animal. If only she’d followed Marjorie’s advice and stayed out of the protests, allowed others to fight for the library instead of getting involved. Why had she ever thought she could help, when in fact she’d just made everything worse? And then there were the FOCL members – would they blame June when they found out the library hours had been reduced because of her suspension?
But mostly she thought of Stanley, alone in that small, dark caravan. She now understood why he spent all day in the library, especially in the colder months. How would he survive the next winter without the library? All these thoughts invaded every waking minute and would only stop when June drank so much wine she passed out asleep.
On Friday morning, when she’d run out of alcohol and eaten the last item of food in the freezer, June pulled on a pair of trainers and left the house. As she reached the village green, she saw Stanley sitting on a bench by the pond, engrossed in a book. June didn’t want to bother him but, as she walked past, he looked up and waved her over.
‘June! Do join me.’ He indicated the bench next to him and June sat down. ‘Have you read this?’ he said, showing her the cover of his book. It was a library copy of The House at Pooh Corner. ‘It was Mark’s favourite when he was small. I must have read it to him dozens of times.’
‘It was one of my favourites too,’ June said.
He returned to reading, and the silence between them grew until June couldn’t bear it any longer. ‘Stanley, I’m so sorry.’
‘What for?’ he asked, his eyes still on the page.
‘For everything.’
‘I don’t follow.’
June took a long breath. Maybe Stanley hadn’t worked it out, but she had to be honest with him. ‘It’s my fault that the library hours have been reduced; the council have done it to punish me for joining the occupation. Now visitor and issue numbers will be down, and they’ll have the perfect excuse to close the library.’
When she finished speaking, she looked across to see Stanley watching her with a strange expression. ‘Have you been hiding under a rock all week?’
‘I’ve been at home.’
‘So, you really have no idea what’s been going on?’
June stared at him. ‘What are you talking about?’
‘Oh, my dear, you’ve inspired a revolution,’ Stanley said, his face breaking into a smile.
‘What?’
‘I can’t believe you don’t know. Once word got out that you’d been suspended, the village was up in arms. People started coming into the library furious about it and demanding to know how they could help.’
June felt the colour returning to her cheeks.
‘Then I remembered what Matilda – I mean, you – had said about getting people to take out as many library books as possible,’ Stanley continued. ‘So that’s what we’ve started asking people to do. I wish you could see it; everyone has borrowed the maximum number on their card.’ He brandished the book in his hand as evidence of his own borrowing. ‘Even people who haven’t used the library in years are taking out books. Marjorie can’t keep up with the demand and the shelves are half empty.’
June was still too stunned to speak.
‘It’s all because of you, my dear. People are furious that the council would suspend you after everything you’ve done for the library and this community.’
‘I can’t believe it.’
‘There’s no way the council can claim we’re a failing library now. Why, this week Chalcot must be the best-performing library in the whole county!’
‘Stanley, this is amazing.’
‘We’re all going to go to the council meeting on the twenty-fourth, when they’ll make their decision. It’s our final battle against the giants,’ Stanley said with glee. ‘You must come too, June dear. We’ll need you there.’
‘Of course I will.’ June allowed herself to smile for the first time in days. ‘We can do this, Stanley. I know we can.’
*
June returned home with her shopping, still grinning at the news. She found her old copy of The House at Pooh Corner on her bedroom bookshelf and took it out into the overgrown garden. She was reading the last chapter when she heard her front doorbell ring. June assumed it must be Linda, who’d been finding tenuous excuses to come round and check up on her all week, but when she opened the door she found Alex standing on the step.
‘You’ve not been answering my texts,’ he said. ‘Are you OK?’
‘I’m sorry, I’ve been holed up here.’
‘I’ve brought you some food,’ he said, lifting the bag he was carrying. ‘Your usual plus some extras.’
‘Thank you. Come in.’ As June led him into the kitchen, she was acutely aware of the tired decor and her mum’s old ornaments on every surface. ‘Sorry, I need to give this place a repaint.’
‘Well hello, little fellow.’
June turned around to see Alex bending down to pet Alan Bennett, who was lying in his basket.
‘Oh, I wouldn’t do that . . .’ she started, but it was too late – Alan snarled and lashed out with his paw, connecting with Alex’s hand.
‘Ouch,’ he said, recoiling. ‘Bloody hell, your cat is vicious.’
‘I’m sorry, Alan’s a little antisocial. He adored Mum but he’s always hated me.’
‘I’ve never heard of a cat hating someone before.’
‘I kept thinking he’d warm to me after Mum died and it was just the two of us. But it’s been eight years now and he’s still a miserable bugger.’
Alex laughed and began unloading cartons onto the table. ‘I’ve decided it’s time you expanded your repertoire. My dad’s family come from the Sichuan province, so that’s his speciality.’ He opened a container. ‘This is fish-fragrant aubergine.’
‘Fish-fragrant?’
‘And these are green beans with pork and chilli, one of my favourites.’
June fetched a plate and sat down as Alex spooned some aubergine onto it. She ate a mouthful. ‘Wow, that’s delicious.’
‘See, what did I tell you?’ Alex said, with satisfaction. ‘Now try the hot and numbing beef, but only if you can handle spicy food. My dad always says chilli is a natural antidepressant . . .’ He paused, looking uncomfortable. ‘Not that I’m suggesting you’re depressed, but I heard about you getting suspended. Why didn’t you call me?’
‘Sorry. I’ve been here all week, thinking everyone must blame me.’
‘God no, quite the opposite.’
‘Stanley told me about people borrowing books.’
‘I’ve never seen the library so busy. I’ve taken twelve books out on my card,
although without you there to advise me I panicked and took out the most random selection. I even came home with a Bridgerton book.’
June chuckled. ‘I’m so glad people are doing this. If we have high visitor and issue numbers it’ll make it much harder for the council to close us down.’
‘I wish it were that simple,’ Alex said.
‘What do you mean?’
‘Well, there’s still the whole Cuppa Coffee issue.’
‘But how will the council justify closing the library if it’s clearly well-used?’
‘They could find a way,’ Alex said. ‘After all, this whole consultation has been about the council trying to save money, not how popular the library is.’
June felt all the positivity of this afternoon fading away. ‘I just wish we knew what Brian and Marjorie are up to with Cuppa Coffee.’
‘Do you think it’s time for you to confront Marjorie about it directly?’
June shook her head. ‘There’s no way she’d tell me anything – she must hate me after the occupation. Besides, I’m banned from the library and it’s not as if I can just turn up at her house.’
‘I’d offer to help but I’m not sure what I can do either,’ Alex said.
June took another a mouthful of the beans. ‘Oh my god, Gayle’s wedding!’ she said, almost choking on her food.
‘You’re not going to that, are you?’
‘It might be my only chance to talk to Brian and Marjorie.’
Alex looked sceptical. ‘They’re hardly going to confess everything at their daughter’s wedding.’
‘No, but Marjorie has told me repeatedly that they’ve invited the great and the good of Dunningshire. If I go in the evening, once people have had a few drinks, maybe someone will let something slip about Cuppa Coffee?’ Even as she said it, June knew it sounded ridiculous.
Alex was watching her with a pained expression. ‘Are you sure you want to go, after what happened at the hen do?’
Was she sure? It would be so much easier to carry on hiding at home, never putting herself out there or taking any risks. ‘Yes, I’m sure. This feels like my last chance to try and do something to save the library.’
‘When is the wedding?’
‘A week on Saturday.’
‘Well, I’m happy to be your plus one, if you want some moral support?’
June was so surprised by the offer that she stuffed a piece of beef into her mouth. Within seconds the heat exploded on her tongue like a fireball and she let out a gasp, making Alex jump.
‘I mean, only if you want me to,’ he said. ‘As a friend, you know . . .’ He was blushing now, but June was too busy necking her glass of water.
‘Great, thanks,’ she said, trying to stop her tongue hanging out of her mouth in agony.
‘I’d better get going.’ Alex stood up and headed towards the door. ‘Careful of that beef, some bits can be quite spicy. And water won’t help, eat some rice instead.’
‘Thanks.’
‘I’ll see you next Saturday.’
‘OK, bye.’
June slammed the door shut, ran back into the kitchen and started shovelling rice into her mouth.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
JUNE STOOD IN FRONT OF THE MIRROR, staring at her reflection. She’d bought the dress, which the lady in the shop had described as ‘burnt umber’, in a panicked shopping trip yesterday. It had a red and gold pattern down the front, and in the changing room June had hoped it looked classy and sophisticated. Now, in the unforgiving light of her bedroom, she realised she looked like a tube of Rolos. She twisted her hair into a French plait and went downstairs. Alan Bennett was sitting in the hallway smirking.
‘Do I look that bad? I know these shoes aren’t perfect . . .’ She looked down at her black heels, which she’d last worn to her mum’s funeral.
Alan licked his bottom in response.
In the kitchen, June poured another glass of wine, surprised to see she’d drunk half a bottle already. Why had she said she’d go to this stupid wedding? The thought of seeing all those women from the hen do had kept her awake all night. Plus, they were bound to have worked out by now that it was June who’d diverted the stripper, and they’d be furious about that. This was a terrible idea.
June heard the sound of a car pulling up, so she drained the last of her wine and stepped outside. Alex was standing beside the car, holding the front passenger door open. His usual T-shirt and jeans had been replaced by a smart grey suit and a bright blue tie, his messy hair brushed back. June had never seen him look so stylish, and she felt self-conscious under his gaze as she walked up the path.
‘You look lovely,’ Alex said, as she reached the car.
June felt herself blush, and she mumbled a thank you as she climbed into the passenger’s seat.
They drove in silence, both staring out of the windscreen. June felt light-headed; why was she putting herself through this? She still hadn’t worked out what she was going to say to Marjorie and Brian. She wanted to ask Alex his opinion, but every time she glanced over at him, she felt oddly tongue-tied.
They arrived at Marjorie and Brian’s house and Alex pulled into a field signposted for parking. The guests who’d been invited for the whole day had parked their cars long ago, and the grass had been churned up into thick mud. As June got out of the car her heels sank into the ground.
‘Agh, help!’
‘Are you OK?’ Alex rushed around to her side of the car.
‘I’m sinking,’ June said, feeling her shoes slipping under the mud.
‘Let me help you.’ Alex took her arm gently, but June was stuck fast.
‘You’re going to need to pull harder,’ she said, mortified.
He held her elbow and began to tug. For a moment June wobbled, and then her feet came free with a loud squelch and she tumbled against him. Alex steadied her and then took her hand, helping June through the mud to the road. She tried not to fall over, but she was acutely aware of the tingling heat of his palm against hers. When they reached the road, she expected Alex to let go immediately but he didn’t. June felt a flush of pleasure at the contact, then she remembered Ellie and pulled her hand away.
‘Look at the state of me,’ she said, looking down at her mud-stained shoes and ankles.
‘Never fear, I was a Boy Scout, so I’m always prepared.’ Alex pulled a white handkerchief out of his pocket with a flourish, and then to June’s horror he bent down and began to wipe the mud off her feet.
‘Don’t be silly, I can do that,’ she yelped, but he carried on. It felt strangely intimate to have him cleaning her feet, and June’s skin was burning.
‘Well, it’s not perfect but it’s the best I can do,’ Alex said, standing up. They both surveyed her brown feet and shoes.
‘Thank you,’ June said, and her voice sounded strange. ‘Shall we go?’
Distant music floated towards them as they approached the mock-Georgian house. Matching topiary hedges lined the gravel drive and the front door was guarded by two pillars.
‘No guests inside the house.’ A man in a high-vis jacket came rushing towards them. ‘I’m sorry, only VIP guests are allowed in there. Please go round the side instead.’
They walked round to the back garden, where a giant blancmange-like marquee had been erected in the middle of the lawn. A waiter approached them with a tray of drinks; June took a lethal-looking cocktail and Alex a glass of water. Guests were milling around them on the grass, laughing with the noisy exuberance of people who’d been drinking all day.
‘God, look at this,’ Alex said, surveying the scene. ‘It’s like something out of The Great Gatsby, and I don’t mean that in a good way.’
June laughed at the reference and felt another flush of pleasure at being here with Alex, all dressed up and drinking cocktails. Then she remembered the reason why they’d come. ‘Shall we go into the marquee and see if Brian or Marjorie are there?’
Inside the tent, there must have been at least twenty round tab
les, each groaning under the weight of huge vases of pink lilies. Some of the older guests were still sitting at the tables, shouting their conversations over the roar of the music. At the far side there was a dance floor under a giant disco-ball, packed with drunken bodies flailing to ‘Come on Eileen’.
June surveyed the room. ‘I can’t see either of them.’
‘Can you recognise anyone from the council?’ Alex said.
June was about to say ‘No’ when she caught sight of a man over on the other side of the marquee, deep in conversation with an older woman. ‘Oh my god, it’s him.’
‘Who?’
June looked again in case she’d made a mistake, but it was definitely him: tall, square-jawed, the white-blond hair.
‘It’s Draco Malfoy.’
Alex didn’t respond and, when June turned to look, he was staring at her with a weird expression. ‘O-K. I think you’ve maybe had enough to drink.’
‘What?’
‘Seriously, if you’re seeing villains from kids’ books then you probably need to stick to water tonight.’
‘No! Draco is my name for one of the guys I saw with Brian that night you and I were in The Chequers. He was the one who was talking about the council and greasing the wheels.’
‘Oh, I see. But why would they invite him to the wedding?’
‘I guess they must be trying to impress him.’
‘I don’t believe we’ve met.’ The woman who’d been dressed as Wonder Woman at Gayle’s hen do had stepped between June and Alex, extending her hand to him. ‘I’m Isabelle.’
‘Hi, I’m Alex.’
‘Enchantée, Alex. How do you know the happy couple?’
‘I’m here with June.’
Isabelle noticed June for the first time. ‘Nice to meet you.’
‘Actually, we’ve met before,’ June said, surprising herself.
‘Really? I don’t remember you.’
‘We sat next to each other at Gayle’s hen do.’
Isabelle paused, obviously trying to place June, and her face split into a grin. ‘Oh my god, you’re the virgin!’
She let out a burst of laugher and June cringed. She glanced at Alex and saw a look of surprise cross his face, although he quickly hid it.
The Last Library Page 18