The Telephone Box Library

by Lucas, Rachael

  ‘She’s got a point. But buying sofa cushions together? That’s a big commitment, Tom.’

  He laughed, throwing one at her head. ‘Even your big brother has to grow up sometime.’

  ‘She’ll be moving in next.’ She cocked her head, sizing up his response.

  ‘Well, actually,’ Tom began, ‘about that . . .’

  An hour later, after a long heart-to-heart, Lucy gathered up some of the bits and pieces she’d left in her room. It was strange, looking around, to realize how much stuff she’d left behind when she went – as if she’d made a conscious decision to walk out of one life and into another. It was as if one part of her had known she had no intention of coming back.

  The head teacher’s office hadn’t changed. Someone had hung up a colourful poster on the wall that said ‘Just Smile – and Remember Why You Wanted to Teach’. Nick glanced at it and then gave Lucy a knowing look.

  ‘The new school secretary. She’s very fond of a motivational poster.’

  ‘I bet that helps no end when you’ve got school inspectors breathing down your neck.’

  ‘Oh, it makes all the difference.’ Nick shook his head and sat down at the desk, motioning for her to take a seat. ‘So – you’ve come to see me about starting back in January, right?’

  ‘Not exactly.’ Lucy looked out of the window at the streams of children heading back into their classrooms after lunch break. She couldn’t help narrowing her eyes, trying to focus and pick out the ones she’d taught last year. There was Jack, about six inches taller and with his dark curls tied back in a ponytail. And Naima, talking animatedly to a blonde girl who was showing her something on her – off limits in school hours – phone.

  ‘And there’s nothing I can do to persuade you?’ Nick looked at her directly. When she’d been signed off work with stress and they’d agreed she would take a sabbatical, he’d made it very clear that the door was always open for her return.

  ‘Nothing.’ Lucy had made her mind up.

  ‘What are you going to do?’

  She shrugged. ‘My brother’s going to buy me out of my half of the house, so I’ll have a decent nest egg behind me. I’m not giving up teaching – it’s in my blood. But I’m not rushing into anything. I might do some supply, then hopefully work part-time. Somewhere smaller – less pressure.’

  He raised his eyes in slight acknowledgement. The school had been a pressure cooker for years, and it wasn’t likely to change.

  ‘You’re a bloody good teacher, Luce. Our loss.’ He reached out, putting a hand on her arm. ‘I can’t make you change your mind?’

  She shook her head. There was no way she was going back to everything she’d had in the past – working ridiculous hours, lying in bed worrying about staffing policies, her health suffering – that wasn’t what she wanted.

  He looked at her for a moment, sizing her up.

  ‘You look different. Happier.’

  ‘I am.’ She gave a nod of acknowledgement.

  He narrowed his eyes. ‘And all this glowing health is just the side-effect of escaping the chalk face?’

  ‘Mm-hmm.’

  He raised a sceptical eyebrow. ‘Come on, Luce. You’ve been married to the job as long as I’ve known you. There’s more to it than that. Have you –’ He frowned slightly, scrutinizing her face. ‘Have you – met someone?’

  ‘Not really.’ She’d been notoriously single the whole time she’d worked there, claiming she was too busy to worry about relationships.

  ‘Not really?’ He gave a brief chuckle. ‘That sounds like code for something interesting.’

  Lucy shrugged and laughed. Whatever was going to happen in the future, she was making this decision for herself, and for her own happiness. That was the thing that mattered most – and coming back here, to the place where she’d worked herself to breaking point, just proved it.

  ‘So you’re heading back to the village today?’

  She nodded. The back seat of the car was packed with cardboard boxes of stuff she wanted to keep. Whatever she was doing, wherever she was going, she’d sort it back at the cottage. That way, Tom and Kate could get on with making the flat into a home.

  ‘And what’s happening in the village this week? I have visions of it being like Midsomer Murders.’

  Lucy laughed. ‘It’s not that far off – without the murders, so far, anyway. I need to get back because we’ve got a mountain of discarded paperbacks to sort out for the telephone box library, and then there’s the cricket club bonfire this weekend.’

  ‘Well, I can see how Brighton would struggle to compete. It sounds like it’s a complete riot.’

  ‘It’s one of those you-had-to-be-there things.’

  ‘Clearly.’

  He stood up, and so did she. Surprising her, he went to shake her hand but instead enveloped her in a bear hug. ‘Take care, Luce. Don’t forget you’re a bloody good teacher.’

  ‘Thanks, Nick.’

  Tears were stinging her eyes as she turned to leave his office. His phone rang as she put a hand to the door and he raised a hand in a silent goodbye, picking it up as she left.

  Bunty’s words popped into her head as she drove for the last time out of the school gates. She was right. If you only have one chance to live life, you should choose to be happy.

  Chapter 26

  Freya was out with Stella again. Sam was feeling a bit redundant, and trying hard not to show it. Apart from the brief chat they’d had that day on her doorstep, he hadn’t had a moment to speak to Lucy alone, and it was nagging at him. Everything was changing. Lucy’s car had reappeared earlier, its back seat covered in cardboard boxes. His heart had thudded to his feet when he’d seen that. It was as if someone had knocked all the air out of him, and he didn’t want to admit to himself exactly why. The car was gone again now, and he felt utterly miserable.

  He had decided to head over to Mel’s, and she was now giving him a talking to.

  ‘You need to tell her how you feel.’

  ‘I can’t.’

  ‘Don’t be so bloody ridiculous.’

  ‘It’s not the right time. I’ve got all this stuff going on with Freya and Stella. Lucy’s about to leave –’

  ‘What makes you think that?’ Mel looked up sharply.

  ‘Car full of boxes is a bit of a giveaway, don’t you think?’

  Mel’s gaze drifted out of the window towards Lucy’s cottage. He followed it, not speaking. They watched as Lucy’s battered little Corsa pulled up outside, and Lucy – dressed smartly in a green patterned dress and knee-length boots – climbed out.

  ‘Looks like she’s been somewhere nice,’ commented Mel, looking at him pointedly.

  ‘And?’

  ‘I suspect she thinks you’re avoiding her.’

  ‘I thought she was avoiding me.’

  ‘You’re a pair of adults behaving more like Freya and Camille. You need your heads banging together. Why don’t you nip over and see her, clear the air?’

  ‘Maybe she thinks what happened was a mistake.’

  Mel shook her head. ‘I think she thinks you think that. Which means that unless you want to throw away one of the best things that’s ever happened to you, you might need to get a grip and start acting like an adult.’

  ‘Thanks, oh wise one.’

  ‘Welcome.’ She gave him a shove. ‘No time like the present.’

  He shook his head. He’d need an hour to shower, find something decent to wear, work out what he was going to say. He couldn’t screw this up.

  Later that evening, he gathered the courage to cross the road and knock on Lucy’s door. Hamish leapt up at the window, barking in greeting, but she was nowhere to be seen.

  ‘If you’re looking for Lucy,’ Bunty said, looking over at him from the rosebush in her garden with two milk bottles in hand, ‘she’s up at Helen’s place, sorting books with Freya. Didn’t she tell you?’

  ‘It’s okay,’ he said. ‘I forgot about that.’

  He couldn’t face
going up to Helen’s. He’d been finishing off the shelving for the telephone box library in recent days, and she’d been hassling him incessantly about the tiniest details.

  ‘Haruumph,’ said Bunty disapprovingly. ‘You’re going to miss the boat, Sam, if you’re not careful. And you’ve only got one life to live. Why not make it a happy one?’

  He nodded, and left. On his way back to his house he took a detour to check on the phone box. Opening the door, he was assailed by the smell of the hanging air freshener Helen had insisted on putting inside. It mingled with the scent of freshly cut wood. He ran a hand along the shelves, feeling for any missed rough patches. It looked very smart now.

  Meanwhile, up at Helen’s house, Lucy and Freya were surveying a pile of books that they’d chosen.

  ‘I can’t understand why we’ve been given six copies of this Riders one.’ Freya lifted up a copy and raised her eyebrows at the image on the front.

  ‘It was very popular at the time, I understand,’ said Helen, disapprovingly. ‘I don’t think it’s the sort of thing we want in the library.’

  ‘I think it’s exactly the sort of thing.’ Lucy giggled. ‘That’s for the yes pile. I bet Susan would appreciate it.’

  Freya flicked open a page and gave a snort of surprise. ‘Oh my God.’ She put it back down again, eyes wide with surprise.

  ‘Jilly Cooper is an absolute genius,’ said Lucy. ‘It’s a complete classic. I like the next one, Rivals, best, I think – you should read it.’

  By the end of the day, they’d boxed up a selection of books for Helen’s husband David to drop off at the weekend. The library would be operational for the whole month of November, but the official celebratory opening was taking place on the first of December.

  ‘Why do we have to wait so long?’ grumbled Freya as they walked down through the village later that evening.

  ‘Because Helen’s going on holiday to the Maldives for a fortnight, and as chair of the parish council it was agreed –’

  ‘You mean she overruled everyone?’

  ‘Well, yes – that’s what an agreement means, in Helen’s world – that the first weekend in December was a lovely time to do it.’

  ‘She’s unbelievable.’ Freya shook her head.

  ‘She is, but she also gets stuff done. Every village needs someone like her.’ Lucy echoed Sam’s comment, unthinkingly.

  ‘That’s a terrifying prospect.’

  They walked along the lane in darkness. Left over Hallowe’en decorations still hung from the porch of one cottage. The streetlights gave off a pale orange glow, and residents could be seen pottering about inside houses where the curtains were still to be drawn. A little girl peered out of the window of her bedroom, thumb in her mouth. Freya looked up at her and waved.

  A firework squeal made them both jump. They both looked up, but couldn’t see a thing – the sky was dark and heavy with clouds.

  ‘I hope it doesn’t rain for the bonfire night tomorrow.’

  ‘Me too.’

  Lucy said goodbye and crossed the road, not looking back as Freya headed inside.

  Chapter 27

  They hadn’t been joking when they said bonfire night was a big event in Little Maudley. Lucy crunched across the gravel car park of the cricket club, past a pavilion strung with fairy lights and warm with the scent of spiced mulled wine. The bonfire was stacked up and ready to go on the rough ground beyond the cricket pitch. Crowds of people jostled around, holding sticky toffee apples, long scarves wrapped around their necks against the sharp early winter cold.

  ‘You wait here.’

  Mel rushed off to get them both a drink, leaving Lucy taking it all in.

  She couldn’t see anyone she recognized in the darkness. Everyone was wrapped up and disguised with hats and warm coats. She stood by the wooden railings and waited.

  Bunty had been happy to stay at home with Hamish, grumbling that Guy Fawkes had been far nicer when they were young and there weren’t all these loud crashes and bangs which disturbed the animals. Hamish, who agreed, had curled up on the mat beside the fire in Bunty’s sitting room. Mr Darcy, her cat, gave him a beady look through one half-opened eye, but carried on snoozing on the armchair.

  ‘Lovely to see you, Lucy,’ said one of the WI committee members, tapping her on the shoulder. She spun round and smiled hello, but they disappeared into the throng. A little girl looked up at her, smiling a gap-toothed smile.

  ‘I like fireworks. Do you?’

  ‘I do, very much.’

  ‘What’s your favourite?’

  ‘I like the ones that go wheee, then BOOM and make a big explosion of colours in the sky.’

  The little girl nodded solemnly. ‘Me too. And the circle ones that go round and round.’

  ‘Mattie, Daddy says we all have to stick together.’ An older girl, clearly her big sister – they looked almost identical – took her by the hand and pulled her towards a group of children who were standing together with their parents. It was only a second later that Lucy realized Sam – dark curls escaping from underneath a woolly hat – was chatting to the father. The little girl was tugging at his leg. She watched him for a moment, unnoticed. That must be Harvey that he talked about – his friend from school with the hordes of children.

  ‘Harv! If I’d known you two were here I’d have got you a drink as well.’

  Mel appeared behind the two men, shouting hello. Sam bent over to kiss her on the cheek.

  ‘Is that one for me?’ Sam said, reaching out for the mulled wine she was holding.

  ‘It is not.’ Mel pulled her hand away. ‘It’s for Lucy. Who is . . .’ she screwed her eyes against the darkness. The light was shining in her face, so Lucy was silhouetted in the darkness.

  ‘Who is here.’ Lucy stepped out of the shadows.

  ‘Lucy, hi.’ Sam stepped forward instinctively. For a second she thought he was going to kiss her, too. But he seemed to stop himself and stood awkwardly for a moment. ‘Harvey, this is Lucy, who I mentioned? She’s been staying in Bunty’s little cottage.’

  ‘Lovely to meet you.’ Harvey put out a hand and shook hers. It was harder than you’d think with gloves on.

  ‘Are you friends with my uncle Sam?’ The little girl – Mattie – looked up at her again.

  ‘Yes,’ said Lucy, shooting him a brief look. ‘I am.’

  ‘She is.’ Sam reached down, picking her up. ‘Do you want a carry, little pickle, so you can see the fireworks?’

  ‘Yes please!’

  Sam hoisted her onto his shoulders. She beamed down from her vantage point.

  ‘You can see all the fireworks first,’ Lucy said.

  ‘All of them,’ Mattie nodded. ‘Suspecially our favourite ones.’

  Sam looked at Lucy and mouthed, ‘She is adorable.’

  Lucy nodded.

  People surged forward in a last-minute rush as the first fireworks began. Lucy found herself pressed up against the bars of the wooden fence, with Sam close beside her. Her heart was banging hard against her ribcage and she felt acutely conscious of every movement she made.

  ‘You used to carry me like that.’

  Sam turned, hearing Freya’s voice. She was with Cammie and another couple of girls from the village, and somehow she’d squeezed her way through the crowds to find them. She smiled up at Mattie, who was thoroughly overexcited and who’d pulled off Sam’s hat and was waving it around in the air. His hair was probably sticking up all over the place and making him look ridiculous in front of Lucy, but he couldn’t exactly let go of Mattie’s legs to check it. He’d just have to hope the darkness disguised whatever was going on.

  The fireworks were almost over, and he didn’t want them to end. He stood in the crowd, aware of Lucy’s body pressed up against his side; in a moment everyone would step back, take a breath, get another mulled wine and prepare for the lighting of the bonfire and the burning of the guy. He stole a look at her. Underneath her red woollen hat, dark strands of hair had come loose and curled
against her high, freckled cheekbones. Her mouth was parted slightly – he exhaled – the mouth he’d kissed before and desperately wanted to kiss again. She sensed him looking at her and turned to him, lips curling into a smile.

  ‘It’s like a school reunion,’

  The last firework shot into the air with a squeal and then fizzled out. Sam and Lucy turned at the same time, just as the family behind them moved away to reveal Stella standing there. His heart sank through the floor.

  ‘Mum!’ Freya sounded as delighted as he was dismayed.

  ‘Hi, Stella.’ He tried to keep his true feelings out of his voice. It was all very well Stella coming back in to Freya’s life, but she was bloody everywhere all of a sudden.

  ‘Well, this is nice,’ said Mel, somehow managing to simultaneously give Stella a smile of welcome and him a look that spoke volumes. ‘Harvey, did you know Stella was back?’

  He turned. ‘Bloody hell.’

  ‘Daddy! Language,’ Mattie said crossly from somewhere over Sam’s head. He’d almost forgotten she was there.

  ‘Can I let you down, sweetie?’

  ‘Here, I’ll take you,’ said Mel, reaching up and helping her down. Sam rolled his shoulders and stretched his neck back until it gave a slightly alarming crack.

  ‘Mum said she might come and say hello.’ Freya looked delighted.

  ‘For old times’ sake,’ said Stella, giving Lucy a slightly thin smile. Mel had already handed Mattie back to Harvey, who was holding his daughter by the hand. His wife was tucking a sleepy toddler into a pushchair. Sam bent down to give her a padded mitten which had fallen onto the damp grass.

  There was a lull in the proceedings and Mel and Lucy headed off to get another drink, leaving Sam there with Stella. Freya and her friends disappeared off to look at the boys from the next village who’d arrived in a gang and who were lurking in the shadows. He hoped they wouldn’t get up to anything.