The Last Library

by Freya Sampson

  Mrs B’s voice wobbled, and she coughed to clear her throat.

  ‘If we all take one lesson from Stanley’s life, it should be that it’s never too late to find your voice, to stand up and shout from the top of your lungs about injustice. Because if each one of us had even a little bit of Stanley’s courage and humanity, this world of ours would be a damn sight better place.’

  She stopped talking and June wanted to burst into applause. But there was a loud, drawn-out creak and she looked over to see Stanley’s sister standing up, leaning on her walking stick. Alex jumped up and went to help her, but the woman shook him off without a word. They all watched as she turned and made her way at a snail’s pace down the central aisle, not looking at any of them. When she reached the back of the room, she pulled open the door and let it slam shut behind her, the sound echoing round the silent room like a gunshot.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  JUNE STAYED IN HER SEAT until everyone had left and then walked up to the coffin. She touched it, feeling the rough wood under her fingertips.

  ‘Goodbye, Stanley,’ she whispered. ‘I’m sorry I didn’t speak up today, but thank you.’

  She reached into her bag and pulled out the library copy of The House at Pooh Corner which Stanley had been reading. June looked at its aged, faded cover, the plastic protector yellow and cracked, and placed the book on top of the coffin, where the flowers should have been.

  Outside, Mrs B, Vera, Chantal, Jackson and Alex were waiting for her in a black cab, the windows steamed up in the driving rain.

  ‘The sister has pegged it,’ Mrs B said as June climbed in. ‘What a miserable old bat.’

  ‘I hope my funeral lasts longer than that,’ Vera said.

  ‘We thought we’d go to The Plough for a drink in his memory,’ Alex said, as they drove out of the car park.

  June stared out of the rain-streaked window as they reached the roundabout and took the exit back towards Chalcot. So this was it. She’d said goodbye to Stanley and now all she could do was sit and wait for the decision from the council meeting, helpless once again.

  Unless . . .

  ‘Stop the taxi!’

  ‘What is it?’ Alex said, as everyone turned to look at June.

  ‘This might sound crazy but, if we hurry, do you think we could still make it to the council meeting before they vote?’

  ‘It started half an hour ago, they’ll never let us in,’ Vera said.

  ‘Maybe not. But we should try, shouldn’t we?’

  ‘Seat belts on!’ Alex shouted, as the driver slammed on the brakes and executed a three-point turn in the middle of the road. There was a cheer around the vehicle.

  ‘Put your foot down, sod the speed limit,’ Mrs B yelled, as they almost jumped a red light.

  ‘You lot run on ahead and I’ll catch you up,’ Vera said, as they pulled into the council car park.

  They piled out of the taxi and raced through the rain towards the building.

  ‘Where’s the committee meeting?’ June called to the woman on reception as they burst through the doors.

  ‘It’s in the main chamber but it’s well underway,’ the woman replied, but they were already running up the stairs.

  As they approached the chamber, June saw a young security guard standing by the door. He looked up in alarm as he saw them charging down the corridor towards him.

  ‘I’m sorry, the meeting started an hour ago,’ he said as they reached the door. ‘You’re too late to go in.’

  ‘Please, we really need to be in there,’ June said.

  ‘Those are the rules, I’m afraid.’

  ‘Please, sir?’ Jackson said, in his most innocent voice.

  The guard shook his head. He couldn’t have been much older than eighteen. ‘I’m sorry, there’s nothing I can do.’

  ‘What about if we slipped you twenty pounds?’ Chantal said.

  Mrs B stepped forwards to read his name badge. ‘Now you listen to me, Sam Tucker. I’m going to report you for obstructing my democratic rights.’

  ‘I’m just doing my job.’ He backed away. ‘Now please, can you all step away from the door so you don’t disturb the meeting.’

  They all turned and started walking back along the corridor.

  ‘Well, I guess at least we tried,’ Alex said.

  ‘I can’t believe we got this close,’ Mrs B said, shaking her head.

  ‘Hang on.’ June spun back round to the guard. ‘Did you say your name was Sam Tucker?’

  He nodded and she walked back towards him.

  ‘This is a long shot, but are you any relation of Jim Tucker?’

  ‘He was my grandpa,’ Sam said, looking confused.

  ‘Who the hell is Jim Tucker?’ Mrs B said.

  ‘Sam, did your grandpa used to take you to Chalcot Library when you were little?’ June asked.

  Now he looked terrified. ‘Yes, why?’

  ‘This might sound weird, but do you remember when he started to read you stories?’

  Sam’s eyes were wide. ‘He learnt to read when I was nine. What is all this about?’

  ‘My name is June, I’m the library assistant at Chalcot. I’m the person who taught your grandpa to read.’

  The young man’s face lit up. ‘You’re June Jones?’ She nodded and he laughed. ‘You’re a hero in my family. My grandpa used to talk about you all the time, he thought you were amazing.’

  June smiled back. ‘Your grandpa worked so hard to learn to read for you and your sister.’

  ‘My mum won’t believe it when I tell her I met you! Do you still work there?’

  ‘I do – but here’s the thing: Chalcot Library is under threat. Right now, in this chamber, the council are voting to decide whether or not to close it and five other libraries.’

  Sam looked appalled. ‘They can’t do that!’

  ‘That’s why we need to get in. We want to try to stop them closing the library.’

  ‘But if I let you in, they’ll know it was me. I’ll lose my job.’

  ‘Is there another way we can get in? Another entrance?’

  He thought for a moment. ‘There’s a balcony upstairs in the chamber. It’s closed at the moment for maintenance work so no one’s up there.’

  June beamed at him. ‘Sam, you’re an absolute star. Your grandpa would be proud.’

  The boy blushed. ‘Go down here, up the stairs and take the door that says “No Entrance”. The balcony is the red door on the right.’

  They all hurried on down the corridor and up the stairs. When they reached the ‘No Entrance’ door, Alex stopped. ‘We can’t all go in, we’ll draw attention to ourselves.’

  There was a quick discussion amongst the group before it was agreed that June and Mrs Bransworth would go in. The two of them crept down the corridor until they came to the red door.

  ‘Ready?’ Mrs B whispered, and June nodded.

  She pushed the door open and they snuck in. June could hear voices coming from down below.

  ‘We can debate this all day, but the numbers speak for themselves,’ a man was saying in a loud, nasal voice. ‘Visits to this library are down fourteen per cent on five years ago, and borrowing is down by twenty-one per cent over the same period, despite the recent spike. I’d argue that it’s a perfect candidate for closure.’

  June caught Mrs B’s eye and could see her own fear reflected back at her. Were they talking about Chalcot?

  ‘But visitor and borrowing numbers are down at all the libraries in the county, even the bigger ones,’ a female voice said. ‘And, in this instance, the library’s cost-per-issue is quite low compared to others. Plus, the response from the local community shows there is huge public support for the library.’

  June crawled forwards to the edge of the balcony in case there was any way to look down onto the floor below, but she couldn’t see a thing.

  ‘There are other factors we need to consider,’ the first man said. ‘As the consultants’ report highlights, this library would require
significant costly refurbishment over the next two years if it’s to continue operating.’

  ‘Some of that has already been done for us,’ a voice said, and there was a murmur of knowing laughter around the room.

  ‘They’re talking about us,’ Mrs B whispered, her breath hot on June’s ear.

  The man continued. ‘I propose that rather than keeping this library open and having to pay for the renovations, we close it and consider how better we may be able to use the premises. It could be a valuable asset to the council in these strained financial times.’

  ‘Bloody Cuppa Coffee,’ Mrs B said, and June nudged her to keep quiet.

  ‘Thank you, Councillor Pyke. Does anyone else have anything they’d like to add before we take a vote?’ an authoritative female voice said. ‘Yes, Councillor Donnelly?’

  June felt the colour draining from her face. Richard Donnelly.

  ‘Thank you, Madam Chair. I’d like to address the recent events at this library, which as you all know have gained significant local and national publicity.’

  June felt something on her hand and looked down to see Mrs B gripping it with her own.

  ‘While all of us here appreciate how passionately local communities feel about this issue, we can’t ignore the fact that campaigners in Chalcot engaged in illegal activity with their occupation and criminal damage to the library premises.’

  ‘I was under the impression that no criminal charges were made,’ the chairwoman interrupted. ‘Was I misinformed?’

  ‘Um, no, that’s correct. But there was considerable alteration to the interior of the library,’ Richard said.

  ‘The lying shit,’ Mrs B said. ‘I’ll kill him.’

  ‘My concern is that if we vote to keep this library open, it might look as if the council can be bullied, or blackmailed even, by actions such as the protest in Chalcot. And I worry what kind of message that would send out to other local interest groups.’

  ‘Are you saying that we should close Chalcot Library as, what . . . a punishment because they protested?’ the female voice from earlier said. June had no idea who it was, but she wanted to high-five her.

  ‘No, Alice, of course not,’ Richard said. ‘But I do think we should be aware of the optics on this one.’

  ‘Thank you, Councillor Donnelly,’ the chairwoman said. ‘Now, if everyone has had their say, I think we should take a vote on Chalcot Library.’

  June could hear the blood racing in her ears. This was really about to happen; the council were about to vote on the future of her mum’s library.

  Stanley’s library.

  Her library.

  ‘Wait!’

  June stood up and looked down onto the chamber floor. Dozens of faces turned to stare up at her and June felt a wave of vertigo. ‘I need to say something.’

  ‘How did she get up there?’ A red-faced man was pointing up at her. ‘Send security up there, now.’

  ‘I’m sorry, no unscheduled questions,’ the chairwoman said.

  ‘Please. My name is June Jones and I’m the assistant at Chalcot Library.’

  ‘If this is about your suspension, Miss Jones, then we’ve already decided to reinstate you,’ the chairwoman said.

  ‘It’s not that.’ June felt light-headed. What the hell was she doing? This was the kind of crazy thing her mum would have done, but there was no way June could speak in front of all these people. Her mind was blank, and she stared up at the ceiling above her head, domed and gilded, and closed her eyes. She remembered Mrs Bransworth’s words during the occupation. I’m never scared when I’m fighting for something I know is right. She thought of her mum standing at the school gates, a one-woman picket line. An image of Stanley floated into June’s mind, smiling at her calmly from behind the library door as the police tried to evict him.

  She opened her eyes and looked down at the council chamber below.

  ‘Today, I went to the funeral of a friend of mine, Stanley Phelps. If any of you have ever been to Chalcot Library, you’d probably have seen him there. He used to wear a suit every day and he’d read the paper in his favourite chair. He was a quiet man, polite and unobtrusive.’

  June saw Richard Donnelly glaring up at her, his eyes bulging. She swallowed.

  ‘When you all threatened to close our library, Stanley became involved in the campaign to save it. He went to every meeting and volunteered to be the group treasurer. And then one day he decided to occupy the library.’

  ‘He was a fighter,’ Mrs B shouted from down by June’s feet.

  ‘I had the privilege of being Stanley’s friend, so I came to understand a bit about why the library was so important to him. You see, despite his smart appearance and friendly manner, Stanley had a difficult past.’

  In the distance June could hear raised voices. Sam must be on his way.

  ‘Stanley had done some things he deeply regretted and lost people he loved. But he told me that, however bad things had been, whatever mistakes he made, there had always been somewhere that he could go. A place where no one would judge him, where he would be treated with respect and kindness. He described libraries as a safety net that always caught him.’

  ‘Where the hell are security?’ Richard Donnelly said.

  ‘Stanley helped me to understand something invaluable. You see, libraries aren’t just about books. They’re places where an eight-year-old boy can have his eyes opened up to the wonders of the world, and where a lonely eighty-year-old woman can come for some vital human contact. Where a teenager can find precious quiet space to do her homework and a recently arrived immigrant can find a new community. Libraries are places where everyone, rich or poor, wherever they come from in the world, can feel safe. Where they can access information that will empower them.’

  Behind her, June heard a door swing open and the sound of feet walking in.

  ‘A mobile library might still provide books, but it can never be the heart of a community. So please, when you vote on these six libraries, think of all the people out there like Stanley. You may not realise it now, but, without libraries, every single one of us will suffer.’

  There was a stunned silence. June felt a hand on her arm and turned to see Sam standing next to her. Behind him were two panting men.

  ‘I’m sorry. You have to leave now,’ he said.

  June glanced back down at the floor below. Everyone was still staring up at her. Her eyes fell on one dark-haired woman, who discreetly raised her hand in a thumbs up. Then June felt Sam pull on her arm, and she turned and let him lead her away.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  ‘THREE CHEERS FOR STANLEY!’

  They were in The Plough, eating the buffet that the landlord had thrown together when they arrived.

  ‘I’m impressed with you making that speech,’ Vera said to June, a sherry in one hand and a pork pie in the other. ‘I wish I could have seen that Donnelly’s face – he must have been livid.’

  ‘I’m not sure it’ll make any difference, but I’m glad I said something,’ June said. ‘I’ve spent too long being scared of speaking up.’

  ‘You were fantastic,’ Mrs B said, slapping June on the back.

  ‘Vera was amazing too,’ said Alex.

  Vera beamed. ‘I told them, I’m eighty years old and eighteen stone, you’re not getting past me without a fight. And you know what, that security boy Sam gave me a wink and told those councillor men that he couldn’t manhandle a pensioner.’

  ‘Good for you, Vera,’ June said.

  ‘Oh, Stanley would have loved to have been there today,’ Chantal said, and everyone went quiet.

  ‘Well, he was certainly there in spirit, thanks to June’s speech,’ Alex said.

  Vera was nodding. ‘Surely there’s no way they can vote to close the library now?’

  ‘We’ll find out soon enough,’ June said. ‘For now, let’s focus on celebrating Stanley’s life. Do you remember how he used to do the newspaper crossword in pencil and then rub it out so Marjorie wouldn’t tell h
im off?’

  Everyone laughed.

  ‘He used to recommend me books to read,’ Jackson said.

  ‘He helped me with my revision,’ Chantal said. ‘He spent hours explaining the Russian Revolution to me.’

  ‘Yeah, but he didn’t have a clue how to work a computer,’ Mrs B said, with a chuckle. ‘Poor June, I must have heard him ask you a hundred times how to log on.’

  June smiled, but she thought of all those unsent emails.

  ‘Do you remember that news interview he did during the occupation, when he said he needed to use the library computers for surfing?’ Alex pulled out his mobile phone and soon they were all laughing as they watched the clip.

  ‘Look, it’s been viewed more than two hundred thousand times,’ Chantal said. ‘Turns out Stanley was an internet star and we never even knew it.’

  More drinks were consumed as everyone carried on sharing their favourite stories about Stanley. After a while, June slipped away and went to sit at a table outside. The rain had stopped, and the sun was fighting through the late September clouds. She felt drained after everything that had happened today. And why wasn’t there any news from the council? It was almost two hours since she’d been pulled out of the chamber by an apologetic Sam. Surely the meeting couldn’t still be going on.

  ‘Do you mind if I join you?’

  June looked up to see Alex standing a few feet away. ‘Sure.’

  She shuffled along and he sat down on the damp bench next to her.

  ‘Well done for making that speech,’ he said.

  ‘I felt such an idiot standing up there with everyone staring at me.’

  ‘But you did it. You put yourself out there and did the one thing that terrified you most.’

  They were both quiet for a moment.

  ‘June, there’s something I need to tell you.’

  She looked over at Alex, his face serious. ‘What’s wrong?’

  ‘Nothing’s wrong. Well, I guess my timing is . . . the timing’s terrible.’

  ‘What are you talking about?’