The Library

by Bella Osborne

  ‘Shall I say a few words?’ said Maggie.

  Christine’s bum hit her seat so fast she almost bounced back up again.

  ‘Right,’ said Maggie, clapping her hands together. ‘The purpose of this meeting is to make sure everyone has the facts about the library’s situation, share our plan of action and seek your input and support to save our library!’ Her voice rose at the end and there was a ripple of applause. ‘This is how it is. Compton Mallow library is earmarked for closure in ten weeks’ time. This means if we do nothing we lose this fabulous community asset along with this delightful building and the ripples of what this means for our community will affect countless generations to come.’

  Maggie explained that the council’s reasoning for the plan to close the facility was based entirely on usage numbers, she highlighted all the library’s current facilities and went through the plan she had agreed with Christine, one she had only had to make a couple of compromises on. ‘What else can we do to utilise this amazing facility?’

  Farah had moved from the tea-making station and was poised to make notes. Tom was rationing the biscuits as they were disappearing fast.

  A middle-aged mum put her hand up to speak. ‘I used to bring my eldest daughter here to reading time when she was a toddler but you don’t have it anymore.’

  ‘Great suggestion,’ said Maggie. ‘We’ll add it to the list.’

  ‘Hi, I’m Lorna Booth and I run the Cedars nursing home,’ said a suited woman with a shock of neat grey hair. ‘I’m interested—’

  ‘I’m Alice,’ said a wizened lady sitting next to her.

  Lorna didn’t look like she welcomed being interrupted. ‘I brought Alice in for a haircut. Anyway, the council have offered to provide a mobile library for us, which would be far better because we can’t bring our residents in here.’

  There was a ripple of dissent. Lorna had not judged her audience very well. Maggie calmed the masses with a wave of her hand. ‘Hi, Lorna and Alice, thanks for coming. The mobile library has not been confirmed so I would not put any store by that ever materialising. It’s simply the council trying to fob you off. Now, I’m sure your more mobile residents would enjoy a trip to the library and I’m certain we can rally support to get them ferried in. We also have online ordering and if you let us know we can easily get the books brought out to you. Your residents are part of the community and we are keen that they receive the same service as everyone else.’

  Farah frantically scribbled notes while Lorna’s eyebrows appeared to be impressed with Maggie’s response.

  Alice put her hand up and Lorna glared at her but Alice carried on undeterred. ‘I want to use the t’interweb,’ said Alice.

  ‘We would love to show you how, Alice. Maybe a special session for you and some fellow residents so we can go at a pace that’s right for you,’ said Maggie. ‘And that’s a lovely hairdo, by the way.’ Alice beamed at her.

  ‘I’m Bill,’ said a rotund man. ‘Landlord at the Limping Fox. Pensioners Tuesdays two meals for ten pounds. Anyway.’ He took a breath. ‘I want to help, I really do, but if this place is on a list to be closed then it’s a done deal. An old building like this has huge potential. Most worryingly it could reopen as a restaurant or worse still a bar, which would hit my business, so I genuinely want it to stay as a library, but the decision is made and no amount of reading is going to change it.’ The room was deathly silent. ‘Sorry. Oh…’ His tone brightened. ‘Don’t forget curry night on Thursdays. You get free naan bread and a small drink of your choice. Excludes real ales and spirits.’

  Eyes shifted from Bill back to Maggie who drew in a long slow breath. ‘You could be right, Bill. And you are most likely voicing what some people here are thinking and what a lot of others who didn’t bother to come tonight believe too. But if we do nothing then it definitely will close and once it closes it’s gone forever, for this generation and all the others to come. But,’ said Maggie raising a slightly bent index finger, ‘if we stand up to the council and if we come together as a community to use and cherish this beautiful building and all that it represents, then we might stand a chance of saving it. And I for one want to be able to say that at least I tried.’ There was a brief silence and then a wave of “hear, hears” and clapping. Farah even put down her pen to applaud. She was looking at Maggie like she was a film star.

  After that there were lots of other positive suggestions. Tom’s old primary school teacher was keen to bring a class in, the postmaster wanted to return the support he’d received when the post office had been under threat and the florist offered to give out flyers but what Bill had said hung heavy in the room. One lady said the city libraries hosted author events, which she often wanted to attend but couldn’t due to transport issues.

  ‘Yeah,’ said Tom. Eyes shifted in his direction and his colour deepened. ‘I like that idea. I’d love to meet authors.’ His voice tailed off to a mumble. Farah gave him an indulgent smile and he retreated under his fringe. There was a muttering of agreement that this would be something lots of people would like.

  ‘Excellent!’ said Maggie. ‘We will look into all of those things. Now in return we need you to support whatever we put on, we need you to use your library and we need your attendance at further meetings. Are you with us?’

  There was a positive response of mumbles and a hearty round of applause. Tom looked at Maggie with renewed respect.

  Once the stragglers had departed Christine, Maggie, Tom and Farah were having a debrief over a round of tea and the last few Hobnobs Tom had managed to hold in reserve.

  ‘Four new people signed up for book club,’ said Farah. ‘And three people showed interest in reading time for toddlers.’

  ‘We used to do that but people didn’t come regularly,’ said Christine.

  ‘Looks to me like if you offer them a biscuit they turn out,’ said Tom, taking the last Hobnob and screwing up the empty packet.

  ‘We could do squash quite cheaply,’ added Farah. ‘And I’d like to read to the children.’

  ‘You’d be great at that,’ said Tom.

  ‘Usually it’s midweek daytime but maybe we could do midweek four o’clock and mums could bring primary age children too,’ suggested Christine.

  ‘That would work for me,’ said Farah, looking delighted at the prospect. ‘I’m here on a Tuesday straight from school anyway. I could also do one on a Saturday.’

  Tom cleared his throat. ‘I could run the silver surfers internet class if you like,’ he said, sounding unsure.

  ‘Top job, Tom. I’m sure you’ll charm all the oldies,’ said Maggie.

  They ticked off the last few points and a few sniffs from Christine made the others look her way. She buried her face in a tissue. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘You’ve all been brilliant today. I don’t know what I’d have done without you. Actually I think I’d have probably curled up in a corner and accepted my fate.’

  ‘You’re stronger than you think, Christine,’ said Maggie, patting her arm.

  Christine shook her head. ‘I don’t know what I’d do if I lost this job.’ She blew her nose again. Tom busied himself with clearing away cups.

  ‘You’d bounce back,’ said Maggie and Christine looked alarmed that Maggie wasn’t offering her a guarantee. ‘But let’s hope it doesn’t come to that,’ Maggie added. She wasn’t one for offering false hope, only practical solutions.

  19

  TOM

  There was no answer from Maggie’s when I knocked. I peered through the living room window and was relieved that she wasn’t sitting dead in the chair as that horror had suddenly charged into my mind. Although there was still the thought that she could be lying somewhere else in the house. I tried the door but it was locked. I had got the earlier bus so perhaps I was too early. Maybe she was having a Sunday lie-in after her rousing speech at the library yesterday?

  I was looking forward to having a chat to her because I’d finished Pride and Prejudice, which she’d recommended, and I’d loved it
. The whole time I was reading it I kept thinking about Farah. Partly because I kept picturing her as Elizabeth Bennet but mainly because I knew she’d love it too. I could also see myself as Darcy but nobody needed to know that.

  I wandered around the side of the house and stuck my head in the barn on the way. The tractor was there but the quad bike wasn’t. A sigh of relief escaped. She was most likely somewhere on the farm. I tried the back door, which was open and I swapped my tatty trainers for the wellies I’d borrowed before. I put my hands in my pockets and strode off towards the animals. The sun was barely starting to warm things up and I breathed in the fresh air. Here it was easy to understand why it was called fresh air. It was different – like it was purer, filtered somehow. There was a scent about it, sort of grassy with a hint of earth. I sounded like the bloke off the wine programme Dad used to like to watch.

  ‘Tom!’ The shout was distant.

  I turned my head in the direction of Maggie’s voice. She was down in the field with the ewes and she was waving. I waved back and pointed myself in her direction. As I got closer I could see she was still waving. For a moment I was chuffed by how pleased she was to see me. Then I realised it was more of a hurry-up wave.

  ‘Come on!’ she shouted and I started to run.

  I halted at the fence and took in the scene. Maggie was next to one of the ewes, which was lying on its side. Maggie was kneeling on one of those green pad things that gardeners use and she appeared to have her hand stuck up the sheep’s arse.

  ‘What the…?’ was all I could think to say.

  Now I took a proper look at Maggie I could see she was wearing a dressing gown with what looked like checked pyjamas underneath. Maggie and the sheep puffed out a breath at the same time. ‘The lamb’s stuck. She’s been in labour for almost three hours. If we don’t shift it we’ll lose them both. She’s exhausted.’

  Maggie looked more tired than the sheep. How did you tell if a sheep was exhausted? It looked the same as the others that were walking about. Apart from the other one on its side. ‘Is that one okay?’ I asked nodding at the far corner of the field.

  Maggie twisted to look. ‘Flaming Nora! She’s in labour too. Can you go and check on her?’

  ‘Err, yeah… What am I checking for exactly?’ I climbed over the fence.

  ‘Under her tail. How far into labour is she?’ I must have looked blankly at her so she elaborated. ‘Check her fanny!’

  ‘No way.’ I held up my hands like a spy about to be shot. I would have preferred to have been shot rather than look up a sheep’s vag.

  Maggie fixed me with a stern look. ‘Barbara here is about to die. Nancy, over there, had trouble last year. I don’t want to lose them both.’

  ‘No, but…’ I pointed at Nancy. The sheep responded on cue with frantic bleating.

  ‘Please,’ said Maggie, her eyes looking up at me big and round like Barbara’s but lighter in colour.

  Bloody hell, emotional blackmail was all around me. ‘Right. If I look…’ Maggie beamed a victorious smile at me. ‘If I look. What am I looking for again?’ I didn’t know why I was asking because I really didn’t want to hear the instructions repeated but I was definitely only doing it once and I didn’t want to get it wrong.

  ‘Check the opening. See if you can get a hand in there.’

  I retched at the thought of it and Maggie chuckled. ‘Cheers,’ I said but I could see the funny side too.

  ‘Quickly. Because I need your strength to get this lamb out of Barbara.’

  ‘Right.’ I jogged down the field to Nancy. The sheep had her head up at an awkward angle and eyed me suspiciously as I neared her. I gave myself a firm talking-to. Maggie has her hand up the other sheep. She’s not asking you to do that. You only need to have a look under its tail and… Eurgh, the thought of it made my stomach churn. Maybe it was best if I didn’t think about it.

  ‘Right, Nancy. Are you ready?’ I asked. Nancy flicked a back leg, which I took as a positive response. I took a deep breath, and gripped her tail. It was wet and gross and there was something under it.

  ‘Shiiiiiit!’ I didn’t need to lift her tail up because I could see a giant bubble coming out of her. It was revolting. I dropped the tail and fled back to Maggie.

  ‘There’s this gross bubble thing coming out of her.’

  ‘Bloody hell, Nancy! Right. She’s got a few minutes. Can you get hold of this and when I tell you to, you need to pull as hard as you can.’ She handed me two bloodied pieces of binder twine. My hand didn’t want to take it. Maggie offered it again. ‘Oh, come on.’ She was losing her patience.

  I did as I was told. It was cold and wet and disgusting. I tried to focus on the lamb.

  ‘See here,’ said Maggie pointing at the ewe’s nether regions. ‘The lamb has got his leg stuck.’

  ‘You know it’s a boy?’ I was amazed. I could only see a small patch of white.

  ‘He’s lazy and he’s got a big head, so it’s just a guess at this stage,’ she said, cocking her head on one side.

  ‘Funny.’

  ‘On three. Slow and steady but with force. Got it?’

  ‘Yeah.’ I had no idea what I was doing. Nancy bleated from the other end of the field and I felt like she was calling me back. I needed to help Barbara and then get back to Nancy. I’d never been so much in demand.

  ‘One, two, three. Pull. Keep it steady. Here he comes…’ Maggie gave a running commentary. The twine was digging into my fingers like cheap carrier bags do when they’re full of shopping. It was tough to keep the pressure on and it felt like nothing was happening. A bit like a tug of war against a brick wall. ‘Don’t let it go slack. Come on, Tom. Pull.’ It was an odd angle to pull at as I was on my knees and it was like pulling a dead weight. A picture of the little lamb the farmer had been carrying last week shot into my mind and I started to fight for this one. I wanted to save him.

  ‘That’s it. Keep it coming.’ All of a sudden Barbara’s legs started kicking about and I lost my grip on the slippery twine.

  ‘Ah.’ I made a grab for it as Barbara stood up.

  ‘It’s okay. She’s got it now,’ said Maggie, giving my shoulder a pat. I watched as the lamb slid out and landed with a cushioned thump on the grass. Some gunk came out too but I kept my focus on the tiny perfect lamb. Perfect apart from the blood, which I was trying my hardest to pretend wasn’t there. He was a beautiful colour – grey and white.

  Maggie wiped the gunk off his face and stuck her fingers in his mouth. ‘Clearing his airway,’ she explained. She then appeared to be sticking straw up his nose. ‘Come on,’ she said. I could tell from her tone something was wrong. She picked him up by his back legs and whirled him around her head almost taking me out.

  ‘Whoa! What’s going on?’ I ducked out of the way. I’m sure the RSPCA would have something to say about this.

  ‘He’s not breathing,’ she said, returning him to the straw and rubbing his chest. Like a switch being flicked to on, he seemed to jolt into life and Maggie moved him under his mother’s nose.

  Barbara started to wash her baby and it bleated. It was the cutest sound I’d ever heard.

  ‘Aww.’ My response was spontaneous. Maggie shot me a proud look so I didn’t bother to change it into a coughing sound. She knew I was hooked.

  She lifted the lamb’s leg. ‘Boy. I knew it,’ she said. ‘Right,’ she added, rocking herself back and forth.

  ‘You all right,’ I asked, offering her a hand to help her up, which she accepted.

  ‘I’ve been here since five o’clock this morning. I came to check on them and she was acting odd so I encouraged her up this end nearer the pens and kept an eye on her.’

  ‘Explains the trendy outfit,’ I said.

  ‘Cheeky,’ she said stretching out her spine. She picked up the lamb by its front legs, dangling it under its mother’s nose and reverse-shuffled into one of the pens we’d made the other week. Barbara followed.

  Maggie stepped out and closed the pen up again. ‘C
ome on. Animal husbandry lesson number two.’ She made two tentative steps, wincing hard with each one, before striding off towards the other sheep.

  Nancy turned out to be a straightforward affair. Maggie showed me that the lamb was coming out front legs first with its head up, which apparently was exactly what you wanted. Minutes after we joined her out popped a lamb. Perfect and healthy. It was something special to witness.

  ‘Right,’ said Maggie. ‘We need that sheep and lamb in a pen up there.’ I looked back up the field. It was a long way. ‘You saw what I did with Barbara’s?’

  ‘Yeah. You put it in the pen.’

  ‘Yes, but she needs to come with it. I kept it in front of her the whole time. She needs to smell it. Here you go.’ She wiped off the worst of the gunk and handed me the warm damp lamb. It bleated a protest and I felt it vibrate through my fingers. ‘Off you go!’ Maggie shooed me up the field. After a couple of steps Nancy followed us. Then she seemed to stop and lift her head.

  ‘Keep the lamb lower. Lower!’

  My back was killing me walking backwards at this strange angle. I dangled the lamb in front of its mother and like a dog sniffing a sausage she was back on the scent of the lamb and trotted towards it. Eventually I backed into the pen and put the lamb down and Nancy went back to washing her baby while I sneaked out.

  ‘I think you’ve earned some breakfast,’ said Maggie, tightening her dressing gown cord. ‘Although I expect you’ve had yours.’

  I’d only had a slice of toast. ‘I could manage another one.’

  ‘Right. I’m going for a shower first. You’ll need to wash up too.’

  I looked at my hands. Yep they definitely needed washing. ‘Actually, I think I’ll stay here for a few minutes.’ There was something special about the lambs and I wanted to enjoy it a bit longer.