The Library

by Bella Osborne

  ‘He’s nuts,’ I said watching the animal reverse back and aim his head at the gate ready for another attack.

  ‘Yep. That’s cade lambs for you.’

  ‘What’s that mean?’ I asked, getting to my feet.

  ‘Means he was bottle fed.’

  ‘Would that not make him more like a pet?’ Colin hurtled towards the gate, hitting it hard and making it shudder.

  ‘You’d think so, wouldn’t you? But not with Colin here. It means he has absolutely no fear of humans. Contempt, yes, but fear, not a drop. Anyway, that’s the grand tour. I need tea.’ She made for the quad bike.

  We headed back towards the house, which was closer than I realised as we’d come a seriously long way round to get there. I was glad she lived in the middle of nowhere because I really didn’t want anyone seeing me with a wicker basket over my arm, sitting on the back of a quad bike, driven by a little old lady.

  She stopped in the yard near the back door. ‘I’ll put this away.’ She patted the bike. ‘You could make us drinks. I’ll have a tea please. Tea caddy is near the kettle. Cupboard above it for mugs.’

  I liked how she gave out instructions. It didn’t feel like she was telling me what to do, although she was. There was something reassuring about how she commanded things. I was starting to learn there was more to her than I had ever imagined, plus her quad bike was awesome.

  12

  MAGGIE

  For once the week had flown by. Having Tom over on Sunday was like having her batteries recharged. She’d had a purpose. It had been a while since she’d bothered with a roast dinner. It never seemed worth the effort for one. On the rare occasions she did cook a Sunday lunch she struggled to only cook sufficient for her and ended up feeding roast potatoes to the chickens, not that they minded. But when there was someone else who was going to tuck in with you it made all the difference. And tuck in he had. It was a pleasure to see him eat and a challenge to fill him up.

  Tom had waxed lyrical about the quad bike. It was something of a necessity for her and she took it for granted. Seeing it through Tom’s eyes had given her morning rounds a new perspective. Living alone had rubbed some of the fun out of her way of life and she needed to find it again. She’d found herself letting out a holler when she went down the steep slope into the bottom field – it was fun.

  However, there was a downside. Being with Tom had sent her mind off troubling about her son again. She thought of him often but having Tom in the house made her try to contrast and compare. None of which was healthy. Every thought was another scratch across her already damaged heart.

  Maggie had a root around the other end of her wardrobe. She usually chose things from the right-hand side. The same things got a lot of wear and were on a constant loop – wear, wash, dry. She wasn’t one for ironing – there was no point. She liked to fill her time but even she couldn’t be doing with pointless tasks like ironing, drying up and polishing – they were a last resort.

  She pulled out a long-forgotten kaftan. They were wonderfully comfy. This one was a riot of colour and merely pulling it free of the confines of the wardrobe made her smile. She gave it a sniff. She made a conscious effort that she wouldn’t have that distinct old person pong. She could smell it on a couple of people who came to book club. It was an unpleasant musty scent and she feared the day she couldn’t notice it was the day she smelled like it too. She always added vinegar and bicarbonate of soda to her wash, dried her clothes on the line whenever she could and used little bags of thyme, rosemary, and cloves instead of mothballs. Although she feared that made her smell like a casserole but it was still better than fusty old person.

  She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been shopping for clothes. She had no need to, but looking at them now, many she had were threadbare and most were shockingly outdated. Maggie had always bucked the trend but it was time she gave her wardrobe a little shake-up. She added sorting out her clothes to her growing list of tasks for the week ahead. She felt a trip to the charity shops was a good opportunity for out with the old and in with the not quite so old.

  Saturday morning came around quicker than usual. Maggie walked into the library and noted the heads that cocked at her outfit. It felt good. She’d missed that sensation. She’d have to dig out her old afghan coat that had been a real head-turner in its day – now they’d call it vintage. She guessed they’d say the same about her.

  Book club went well. It was always best when the viewpoints were opposing. It generated a good discussion. When everyone agreed with each other it was a much quieter and shorter session. Maggie liked a good debate, something she could get her teeth into. A load of nodding dogs wasn’t nearly as much fun. The door opened and in walked Tom. His smile for her was brief but it was there and it warmed her soul.

  She’d planned to keep her distance. She didn’t want to push him away by coming across as needy. But she’d left him with the offer of calling in anytime, so now it was up to him. Although she had already planned out what she’d feed him next time he visited.

  *

  A few other people came in. The library was almost busy. Maggie watched Tom out of the corner of her eye. He was choosing books. He had a pile on the back table and he was lingering over Polo by Jilly Cooper. Maggie remembered being exactly the same. She’d always loved Jilly Cooper although she feared they may be a little racy for Tom.

  A lean girl with straight black hair was hovering behind the Mills and Boon carousel but on seeing Tom she made a beeline for him. Maggie was intrigued and also thrilled to be within listening distance.

  ‘Hi, Tom.’

  Tom shut the Jilly Cooper with a snap and almost threw it at the shelf. It hit another book, pinged out and landed on the floor with a light thud. Tom had the look of someone pulled from another galaxy. The girl crouched and picked the book up. Crimson spread quickly up his neck and his mouth opened and closed rapidly before he managed to reply.

  ‘Farah. Hi.’

  ‘I don’t think this is on the GCSE reading list.’ She held out the book.

  He took it from her, shoved it in a gap on the shelf and turned his back on it. ‘No, ha-ha.’ His fake laugh was pitiful and Maggie was fascinated by the effect this girl had on him. He had turned into a gibbering idiot.

  ‘I’ve not seen you in the library before,’ she said. ‘I sometimes do my homework here on a Tuesday instead of going back to an empty house. Mum and Dad are late home on Tuesdays and my brother has piano lessons.’

  ‘Right,’ said Tom.

  ‘What you doing here?’ She glanced at the pile of romance books stacked neatly next to his rucksack.

  Tom followed her gaze. ‘I work here,’ said Tom. Farah’s expression was questioning. ‘Help out. Just sometimes. When it’s busy.’ They both looked around. There were far more people in the library than Maggie had seen there in a while.

  ‘Great. Mum says I have to stop downloading books to my Kindle. I’ve got a bit of a habit. So here I am.’ She almost curtseyed and Maggie thought Tom was going to faint.

  ‘Right. That’s good. The library is… um… full of books,’ he said. Maggie shook her head at his ineptitude.

  ‘What would you recommend?’ asked the girl.

  ‘For you?’ Tom pointed at her and she laughed.

  ‘Yes, for me.’

  ‘Err, yeah. Of course. Duh. What do you usually read?’

  ‘Teen stuff mainly but I’m struggling to find new authors.’

  ‘Okay… You like history, right?’

  ‘I do.’

  ‘Do you like romance?’

  ‘I liked The Fault in Our Stars by—’

  ‘John Green. Terrific. Stay there.’ He moved quickly and returned with a book and presented it to her. ‘Frederica by Georgette Heyer.’

  She read the back and gave a thoughtful pout. ‘I’ll give it a go.’

  ‘Brilliant.’ Tom ran his fingers through his hair. They eyed each other awkwardly and Tom’s cheeks inched up the colour chart. ‘You ne
ed to take it to the lady over there. She’ll check it out for you.’

  ‘Right. Okay. I might sit here and have a quick read. You know to check if it’s my thing or not.’

  ‘Sure. Of course.’ Tom moved his bag to the floor and began returning his carefully selected pile of books to the shelves.

  The post lady came in and handed over a pile of letters and something Christine had to sign for. Christine let out a gasp worthy of anyone winning a TV prize jackpot but her face told a different story. Maggie went to see what had caused it but Betty was quicker off the mark.

  ‘Something wrong?’ asked Betty, her face laden with glee.

  ‘They’re closing us down,’ said Christine, followed by a dramatic sob as she clutched the podium for support.

  Betty was quick with the tissues, which gave Maggie a chance to swivel around the offending letter and have a quick read for herself. She wasn’t surprised to see that Christine had made a mansion out of a Lego brick. ‘It’s inviting you to a meeting about the future of the library, Christine.’ It wasn’t exactly an eviction notice. Maggie had seen plenty of those in her time.

  Christine looked affronted. ‘That’s what it means.’ She stabbed the letter with a neat fingernail. ‘It came by recorded delivery. They call you to a meeting and that’s when they tell you. They’re closing you down…’ She did add something on the end but it was inaudible and lost in the sniffing.

  But if Christine was right, this would be the end of the book club and most likely the end of Maggie’s contact with Tom.

  13

  TOM

  School was all right today. I’ve been replaying my conversation with Farah a lot. It’s like having my own Farah YouTube channel in my head. I was smiling to myself as I let myself in. The house was in darkness. Usually Dad would be up, maybe not up but at least dressed and the curtains drawn but not today. It felt odd to walk out of daylight and into the gloomy hallway. It was silent too. Imaginary fingertips crept up my spine making me shiver. I needed to get a grip. I wasn’t alone because Dad was here – somewhere. We had an uneasy truce. Dad kept asking me if I was talking to him. I wasn’t not talking to him; it was basically because I didn’t have anything to say to him.

  I checked the living room and dropped my bag on the sofa. I so needed a new bag but Dad said I had to wait until my birthday. Sporty Tom at school got a moped for his birthday. After the other Sunday at Maggie’s I’d like a quad bike but that’s not going to happen.

  The living room is a tip. I’m no neat freak but it’s starting to get to me. The whole place is a mess. I’ve not put any washing on this week because we’ve run out of washing powder. I had to get a shirt out of the laundry bin this morning. It was hard to choose which one smelled the best. Best is the wrong word to use. They all smelled bad but the one I put on didn’t make my eyes water. I sprayed it and me with the last of my deodorant and nobody recoiled although a dinner lady did say she thought she could smell toilet freshener.

  I looked around the room. If she was here to see the state of it Mum would have had a blue hairy fit. That’s what she used to call my giant paddies I used to have. I can’t think what I had to get cross about back then. I picked up the empty beer cans and carried them to the recycling bin in the kitchen but that was overflowing. He’d not put the bins out. I moved some paper off the counter and dropped the armful of cans with a clatter.

  The kitchen was probably in a worse state than the living room. I didn’t want to clear it up but it was that or a row with Dad about it. Not great choices. I emptied the kitchen bin and the recycling crate into the already full wheelie bins outside. We’d missed bin day this week. I put a reminder on my phone to put them out next time even though it wasn’t my job. With the cans gone things looked a little better. It wasn’t much but it was a start.

  I decided I’d have a snack and then I’d clean up a bit. The fridge was empty again. Dad came into the kitchen looking a lot like one of the undead. ‘When are you going shopping?’ I asked.

  ‘Don’t start,’ he said, switching on the kettle. He smelled like my shirt before the deodorant assault.

  ‘I’m not having a go. I’m just saying we need stuff. Do you want me to go?’ I hoped he’d say no because it was a long walk and those carrier bags really dig into my fingers.

  He scratched his head. ‘Need to wait until Friday when I get paid.’

  ‘You have to be joking. We literally have nothing to eat.’

  He blinked a few times. ‘What’s in the freezer?’

  I opened it. It was slightly more inhabited than the fridge. Two sausages that were completely encased in ice like they had been in there a while. A large box of fish fingers but there was only one left in there. And half a bag of mixed veg.

  He yawned as he leaned over my shoulder. ‘There you go and there’s cereal in the cupboard.’

  ‘But there’s no milk.’

  ‘Then get some,’ he snapped.

  I held my hand out for some cash. Dad pointed at the few coins on the counter. ‘That’s all there is. You must have some from your paper round.’

  ‘I’m saving for a new Xbox. Remember?’ I clenched my teeth together so I didn’t rant.

  He looked away. ‘I’ll pay you back.’

  This wasn’t how it was meant to be. He wouldn’t pay me back. How could he?

  ‘Can you get some more fish fingers as well?’ he asked. ‘That should see us all right until Friday.’

  ‘Right.’ It was hard to speak, my jaw was so tight.

  He grabbed my arm as I went to leave the room. ‘Look I know it’s not ideal. We’ve had a few bills all come in at once. That’s all. But at least you get a meal at school and thank heavens that’s free.’

  ‘Can we pay for those?’ I nodded at the red bills on the counter. I wasn’t great at maths but I knew they added up to more than Dad’s weekly wage.

  ‘We’ll be okay after Friday, Tom. I promise.’ He tried to smile and it came out more like a twitch.

  ‘Don’t promise me, Dad.’ I pulled my arm free. I could cope with the mess, with the lack of money and shoddy financial management but not with broken promises.

  *

  I went to the corner shop because it was nearest. Seeing as I was paying I decided I’d face the extra cost that the little village stores charged versus the long walk to the supermarket. I remembered to take a carrier bag with me. I wasn’t stretching to ten pence for one of their flimsy ones. It was such a rip-off. Some younger kids from my school were standing outside drinking bottles of Coke and sharing out a multi pack of chocolate bars.

  The sight of the Coke made me think about Maggie. Pictures of her kitchen filled my mind. Did these kids have a roast dinner every Sunday? Probably. They had no idea how lucky they were. I could easily have swiped something from them but I never would. It didn’t mean I didn’t want to.

  Inside I found the few things I needed while avoiding eye contact with Mr Gill because otherwise he’d try to have a conversation with me. A couple of ladies were at the till chatting.

  ‘I can’t believe they’re closing the library,’ said one wearing a headscarf.

  ‘They never are,’ replied the other who was sorting through the going-out-of-date section.

  ‘My neighbour lives two up from Christine who runs it. She says they’re knocking it down for flats.’

  I snorted at the story. Our village was first class for dramatising events. Once when someone lit the Guy Fawkes bonfire early half the village turned out because the rumour was that the pub was on fire and the whole place would be ash by morning.

  ‘That’s shocking,’ said the other. ‘I’ll have to go into town to get my books renewed.’

  ‘Exactly. I mean, I don’t use the library but I wouldn’t want to see it close.’

  I shook my head. People were only interested in themselves. No thought for the impact on others. Lots of people used our little library. But most importantly what about me? All because of our village library Farah had spo
ken to me. I had done a first-rate impression of a salad vegetable but at least we had spoken – I called that serious progress. The library was also my link to Maggie. I had to keep going because I was hoping she was going to ask me over for Sunday dinner again. And I liked being in the library – there was something familiar and safe about it. And maybe I felt closer to Mum there – I dunno.

  Mr Gill was stacking up some empty boxes. One of those would be an excellent place to hide my romance books at home. ‘Could I have one of those please?’ I asked.

  ‘Instead of a carrier bag?’ he replied.

  ‘Yeah. If that’s okay?’

  ‘Five pence,’ he said. This guy was never going to have financial problems.

  I added a small bottle of Coke and a large Mars bar to the other shopping. Why shouldn’t I? My Xbox flashed into my mind. I’d sold off my games and accessories already because I figured they were useless without the actual console and as it was going to take ages to save up there might be a new version out by then. Even if I went for a second-hand one it was going to take a while to save up for it. Probably years. Maybe never. I knew what I needed to do.

  *

  I left Dad a note with the sixty-eight pounds I’d got for selling all my Xbox gear and games minus today’s shop and enough for a new rucksack. I knew he’d found the money when I heard him sobbing at the kitchen table but I didn’t go down. Neither of us would have been comfortable with that.

  *

  Maggie was waiting for me on Saturday morning. ‘Good you’re here, Tom. We’re having a meeting after book club – the more the merrier. Can you call up some friends, like that nice girl who was here last week?’

  ‘What? No. I don’t have her number.’ I liked Maggie’s optimism that I might have had Farah’s phone number. I’d love to have her phone number.

  She waved a hand in front of my eyes. ‘We need as many people as possible.’

  ‘Why? What’s the meeting about?’