Her midweek highlight had been one of The Girls getting egg-bound. She’d brought her into the farmhouse, given her a dose of extra vitamins and subjected her to a warm bath, which she seemed to quite enjoy. Maggie had cuddled her gently and massaged her abdomen and after an hour in front of the cooker she had happily laid the offending egg. Such a simple thing and yet if left unattended she would most likely have died. Maggie liked caring for things; it gave her a sense of purpose.
Saturday finally rolled around and Maggie was like a kid about to go on a school trip. Would Tom be there three weeks in a row? What would happen when his mother’s Kindle was fixed? All sorts flashed through her mind on the bus on the way there.
She’d read the book club novel and then immediately wished that she hadn’t because it had put the willies up her. She hadn’t actually had any nightmares, but it was definitely playing on her mind. It had been a story about people who were in a remote place being haunted in their dreams. It was too close a comparison to her own life for Maggie’s liking. Although her little farm wasn’t in the Arctic it felt almost as cold sometimes. At least the library was warm. She loved the heater that hit you with a blast of hot air as you walked in. Like a warm hug – or at least the closest Maggie got to one.
She was early and there was no sign of Tom. Christine was switching on the computers. ‘Morning, Maggie, how are you?’
‘Good thanks.’
‘All recovered from being attacked?’ She seemed to be scanning her.
‘Yes, thanks. It wasn’t that dramatic, Christine.’ Maggie claimed her place at the table.
‘You’re not the only one. There’s been a spate of attacks in the local area.’ Christine rushed over with a few-days-old local paper and shoved it under her nose. ‘See.’ She tapped the page.
Maggie read the article. It was fairly similar to what had happened to her but this poor woman had come off worse, having fallen and broken her hip, landing herself in hospital. She shuddered. ‘Doesn’t say anything about anyone else. Just this one incident,’ said Maggie, folding it up. ‘Not really a spate.’
‘Don’t forget yours. That makes it a crime wave. It’s rife!’ Her voice went up at the end.
‘Not exactly a rampant scourge though.’ Christine was prone to being overdramatic.
She enjoyed having the place to herself but it wasn’t good for the library; she knew that. Christine was always banging on about them drumming up more people. Use it or lose it was her favourite phrase. But Maggie liked the peacefulness. Which was odd because she wasn’t a fan of being alone at home. Maybe it was the happy memories she had of the library that kept her company. The times she’d gone there when she literally had nowhere else to go. Living in a hostel in her twenties had been her real low point. Despite all the people and noise in the hostel she’d never felt as alone as she had done at that point in her life.
She’d sought peace at the library, and it had given her exactly that along with multiple worlds to hide herself in. She could disappear into a book and be gone from the harsh reality of the real world for hours. That had saved her. Saved her from herself and most likely a much shorter life.
The door opened and few others came in already mid-conversation about Betty’s constipation. Maggie rolled her eyes. There were a few fleeting greetings before they all took off layers and settled themselves down around the table. The conversation moved on to Audrey’s swollen ankles and her husband’s cholesterol level. Maggie sighed.
The door opened again and in crept Tom, and Maggie’s day brightened immeasurably. For the first time she hoped book club didn’t go on too long.
7
TOM
I was better prepared the next time I went to the library. I knew to keep away from the computer and anything else I could break, and I had what I hoped were believable mum-type responses for which of the books I’d liked and wanted more of. I needed to renew the JoJo Moyes one because I’d not finished it thanks to a load of revision my chemistry teacher had dropped on me. I was enjoying the book too. That was both good and bad. It was great disappearing into a story but the shame of anyone discovering I was reading romance books was nagging away at me like toothache. Just the thought of it made me nauseous but the truth was I loved them. I was probably a bit addicted. Mainly because they were basically self-help guides for useless men. They were exactly what I needed. Simple lessons in how not to behave around females. I was learning way more from them than I did from my schoolbooks. Maybe there was a market for turning GCSE textbooks into stories.
Christine looked pleased to see me, which was a bit of a new concept for me. I don’t usually get that reaction from anyone else. ‘Hello again. It’s Tom, isn’t it?’ She grinned and I could see she had lipstick on her teeth.
‘Yep. Bringing these back for my mum.’ I pronounced mum like I was talking to a kid – I’m not sure why. ‘And I… er… she needs the JoJo… um… that one renewed.’ Well, that went well, not. I was such a bad actor even when I’d practised my lines.
‘No problem at all,’ said Christine efficiently tapping them into the computer. ‘Shall I choose her some more?’
‘Please.’ I was too quick with that response. ‘Yeah, you know, if you like.’ I shrugged. ‘I’ve got work to do so I’ll be…’ I pointed to the back of the library.
‘Okay. I’ll bring them down in a bit.’
‘Cool.’ I picked up my bag and headed to my usual corner. I saw Maggie looking at me as I passed the book club table and she nodded. I did the same in response. That was far easier. Why wasn’t that level of communication acceptable all the time? I could cope with a nod.
I got quite a bit of work done. I’ve been a bit of an idiot. Dad doesn’t seem to care much about what I do at school as long as I don’t get into any sort of trouble that means he has to go down there and talk to teachers. I’ve sort of been coasting for a bit. And I know I shouldn’t have done but if nobody else was bothered then why should I be?
In my defence I did go along to an after-school revision group. It sounded like it would help me catch up, which was what I knew I needed to do. And as no one was forcing me to go I was all right about it. That was until I walked into the classroom. There was one boy leaving as I went in. He was making some excuse to the teacher that he’d remembered he’d got football practice and when I checked out the room I got why he was making a run for it. It was full of girls. I’m not even exaggerating. There must have been about forty of them because they’d run out of desks and there wasn’t another boy in sight.
There was no way I was staying there on my own, even if Farah Shah was one of the girls. I piggybacked on the other boy’s lie and said I had to go to football too and got out of there as quick as I could. I didn’t bother going to revision classes anymore; they defo aren’t for me.
Mum used to spend a lot of time with me and my schoolwork. It was only primary school stuff but she took time to sit down with me and practise my spellings and reading. I made out I hated doing it but really I liked having time with my mum. Sometimes I pretended to keep getting the word wrong so I could have a few more minutes with her all to myself.
‘Here you are,’ said Christine brightly plonking down a tower of romance novels.
I quickly chucked them in my backpack. ‘Thanks. Oh and Mum says thanks too.’
That seemed to make her happy. She flicked her hair off her shoulder and showed me her lipstick teeth again. ‘Tell her it’s my absolute pleasure to help a reader.’
‘Okay.’ I looked back at my schoolwork and hoped she’d go away. After a moment she did and I could relax again.
I finished the chemistry revision and checked my watch. There was nothing to go home for. Dad and I were still ignoring each other. He was either at work or wasted, which suited me fine. I couldn’t even look at him right now. I decided to stay at the library. It was kind of an all right place to be. The old ladies had stopped staring at me. I was becoming invisible here too and that helped. I was dying to finish off
the JoJo Moyes book but I couldn’t. Looking around me I decided there had to be another more acceptable book I could read in public.
I got up and started to peruse the shelves. I’m not sure how long I was there but it was good to check out all the covers and read the blurbs. I found A Game of Thrones and was made up. I didn’t even know it was a book series. Nobody at school had mentioned that. This was awesome. I took the first book and went to head back to my spot. But as I turned I saw Maggie was now sitting in the seat next to mine.
‘Is it okay if I sit here?’ she asked.
‘It’s a free country.’ I hated myself a little bit for my reply.
‘True but if you want some space I can clear off.’
‘No, you’re all right.’ I sat back down and opened my book. Maggie was reading the newspapers and then she moved on to a magazine.
We stayed like that for ages. Both of us just reading. She occasionally chuckled at something. I didn’t ask what.
‘Do you want a water?’ she asked getting to her feet. There was a dispenser in the corner.
‘Er. Yeah. Please.’
She brought two paper cups back. ‘Is that any good?’ she asked nodding at my new find.
‘Awesome.’ I’d already read forty-something pages.
‘Have you tried Terry Pratchett?’ she asked.
‘No. Any good?’
‘The best. Start with Good Omens – it’s funny.’ I nodded and made a note to check it out. ‘You finished your homework?’
‘Yeah.’
‘Are you doing O levels or A levels?’ she asked nodding at my textbook.
‘GCSEs then A levels if I get good enough grades, which I probably won’t.’
‘Ah.’ She nodded wisely. ‘Is that you being realistic or modest?’
‘Realistic.’
‘Not everyone is academic,’ she said kindly. ‘I wasn’t. It doesn’t mean you can’t get a decent job. They seem to be going in for apprenticeships again. They were a big thing in my day. Good way to get experience.’
‘Yeah but if I stand a chance of getting out of the village I need to get into university and that means decent results.’ Why was I telling her all this?
‘What makes you think you need to get out of the village?’
I shrugged. I wasn’t about to tell her my whole life story. But she’d made me think. Why was I so set on university? Simple answer – because the worst thing that could happen to me was if I ended up like my dad.
8
MAGGIE
Saturdays had been Maggie’s favourite day of the week for a long time but they’d just got even better. Tom intrigued her. He was ordinary and yet he wasn’t. They didn’t often see teenagers in the library and if they did come in it was only to use the computers and when they discovered the dodgy sites were blocked they usually didn’t return. There was something going on with Tom; she was sure of it. She was a keeper of secrets and she recognised the same in others.
Of course it had crossed her mind that there was no mystery at all, that he was simply a teenager using the library but that was dull and didn’t fill her time nearly as well. No, she much preferred the conspiracy theory idea – it had far more potential.
Maggie was keen to get to the library, even more so than her usual desire to check there were still other human beings on the planet. But first she had to check on the animals. She strode down to Colin and completed their well-choregraphed routine before heading over to the ewes. She could see something was amiss and quickened her pace.
Barbara was cast. The other ewes were in a corner together eating. At some point in the night Barbara had managed to flip herself onto her back, probably owing to the uneven ground and trying to have a scratch. Until she’d seen it Maggie had often been entertained by the thought of gymnast sheep but once she’d witnessed the devastating results it had lost its humour instantly. A cast sheep would eventually die. Maggie checked Barbara over. Thankfully she was okay and the crows hadn’t found her. If they’d got there first, they would have pecked at her like she were a live buffet.
Maggie bent her knees, took firm hold of two of Barbara’s legs and heaved her up onto her feet. Barbara wobbled and Maggie held her steady. The ewe did a record-breaking wee before tottering off across the field with not so much as a bleat of thanks.
Maggie hung around to check Barbara was okay, meaning she missed the early bus she usually caught, leaving no time for her customary trip to the village shop and the post office. Even if she had had time she probably would have skipped them because today she was keen to get to the library and see if Tom showed up again.
Maggie was the last of the book club group to arrive. She took her seat, pulled the book from her bag and looked about. The usual suspects were assembled but there was no sign of Tom. As if on cue he slunk in. This week he carefully placed his bag down and gave his usual shifty glance around. He handed over the books to Christine and went to study the shelves.
Maggie tried to keep her mind on the book club discussion but it was difficult with her concentration elsewhere and the novel hadn’t gripped her anyway. She chipped in occasionally but her attention was on Tom. She was relieved when they reached the end of the set questions and opened it up for general conversation about the book.
Maggie pushed back her chair and sidled over to Christine.
‘Does his mum not want any more?’ she asked, tilting her head at Tom who was engrossed in selecting books.
‘He says he’s going to choose them himself.’ Christine’s shoulder twitched in a half shrug but she did look a bit put out. Christine liked to think she knew all there was to know about books. It was true that she was the librarian; however, she did have a tendency to recommend the same tried and trusted novels.
Maggie kept watch on Tom until she could wait no more and went to peruse the shelves near to where he was. ‘Hello,’ she said.
‘All right?’ he asked, although it was doubtful he wanted a full and considered response.
‘Good thank you. What did your mum think of Me Before You? Did she say anything? I talked about it to everyone when I finished it.’ Maggie tried not to scrutinise him while she waited for his response.
‘Um. Yeah. She liked it.’ He gave a considered nod.
‘That’s great. I’m pleased. It’s always hard when you recommend a book and the person hates it. The heroine is my favourite character. I like quirky.’ Maggie splayed out her long colourful cardigan.
‘I see that,’ said Tom.
‘Hey. Don’t judge a book by its cover or a lady by her cardigan.’
‘It makes a change from beige.’ Tom nodded at the ladies around the table displaying all shades of the colour with a few pastels thrown in.
‘Matches their hearing aids,’ said Maggie.
Tom chuckled but stared hard at the bookshelf.
Perhaps she was getting too chatty for him. Maggie went back to the book chat. ‘She’s one of those characters who gets under your skin and doesn’t leave you. You know?’
‘Yeah.’
‘I liked how the story made you think. Made you put yourself in their situation.’
‘Uh-huh,’ said Tom, focusing on the book in his hand.
‘I didn’t like Will’s mother, but then mothers are controlling by nature.’
‘Maybe she was trying to help,’ said Tom. ‘Probably. I dunno.’
‘And I’m a sucker for a love story. Will truly loved Louise and that was so real.’
‘Louisa,’ said Tom. He put the book he was holding on his pile and stepped sideways.
‘Yes. You’re right, it was Louisa,’ said Maggie. Tom was turning pink. Maggie moved away. She had uncovered what she needed to.
*
When it reached shutting-up time Tom appeared at Maggie’s shoulder. ‘You getting the bus?’
‘Are you asking?’ She pushed her chair back.
‘What?’ He frowned at her. The generation divide was cavernous.
‘Nothing. Yes, I’m
getting the bus.’
‘Come on then,’ said Tom, leading the way, his head down.
Maggie pulled on her coat like an excited teenager and followed him out. ‘How was your chemistry test?’
‘Huh?’
‘Last week you were working on chemistry revision. Did you get a good mark?’
‘It was okay.’
‘Right.’ He wasn’t as talkative this week and it was disappointing. ‘What did you work on today?’ She didn’t like to interrogate him but needs must.
‘English literature. We’re doing Animal Farm.’
‘Do you like it?’
‘Yeah. I liked the story but I’m not sure I understand all the analysis we have to do for the exam.’
‘Does it spoil the enjoyment of the story?’
‘Yeah. It does.’ He put his head down and walked in front of her down the alleyway.
Perhaps she’d get to natter to him again when they reached the bus stop. She was pleased to see there was nobody else waiting. She feared if anyone arrived he’d be off. They sat side by side on the cool metal seats and waited for the bus. ‘I think this week’s book club read will be more up my street.’
He was looking about. He seemed to have lost interest in her. She got the book out anyway and showed it to him.
‘The Fault in Our Stars.’ He nodded. ‘You might like it,’ she said. He nodded again before realising his mistake.
‘Nah. Doubt it.’ Tom looked away.
‘It’s okay, Tom. The others don’t know and I won’t be telling them.’
‘Know what?’ He pulled his shoulders back and stared her down.
‘That it’s you reading the books and not your mum.’
His shoulders sagged with every word, until he was back to his rounded-shoulder posture. ‘How’d you know?’
‘The way you read the blurbs before choosing the books. The conversation about Me Before You.’ She gave a shrug. ‘I’m a bit like a dog with a bone when something doesn’t add up.’
He turned to look up the road for the bus, as if willing it to arrive, but there was ages yet. ‘Well done, Miss Marple.’
The Library Page 5