The Library

by Bella Osborne

  Maggie followed my gaze. ‘Okay. Just for the night.’

  ‘Thanks.’ I probably should have been more enthusiastic but I was out of energy.

  ‘You’d best get your things together. Make sure you’ve got everything you need for school.’

  I nodded and went upstairs. It didn’t take long to chuck some stuff into my schoolbag and a couple of carriers. I brought my box of library books down too. I saw Maggie’s lip twitch a smile when she saw them. She was waiting at the bottom of the stairs for me.

  ‘A taxi’s on its way,’ she said, taking the carrier bags off me. ‘I’ve left a note so your dad knows where you are.’

  ‘No, I don’t want him—’

  She held up her hand to stop me. ‘I’ve left my name and phone number. Not my address. I’ve explained the situation you found him in and that he is in no fit state to care for you right now and that my only other alternative was to call social services.’ I felt my eyebrows rise. Maggie was not someone to mess with. ‘When he wakes he needs to know you are safe but also how serious this is.’

  A beep of a car horn told us the taxi had arrived. I took one last glance into the kitchen. Maggie had propped Dad up with some cushions and he was sleeping. His hair was greasy and he hadn’t shaved. Vomit was stained all down his clothes. It was difficult to pin down how I felt at that moment – disgust, disappointment, hurt and anger were all vying for my attention. But I knew I didn’t want to see him like this anymore. I followed Maggie outside and closed the door.

  *

  I woke up in Maggie’s spare bedroom. We didn’t speak at all in the taxi and only exchanged a few necessary words before she went to check the sheep and I went to bed. Sunshine was overpowering the thin curtains and flooding the bedroom with light. The room was painted orange, which was a bit bright for first thing in the morning – a little like waking up in a volcano. But I had a double bed and I liked how the ceiling sloped down on one side.

  I’d propped up Mum’s photo on the bedside cabinet before I went to sleep. It was kind of nice to see it. Something familiar in an unfamiliar place.

  Maggie had put my school uniform on a coat hanger after she’d ironed it late last night and it was hanging on the front of a large dark wood wardrobe. My uniform hadn’t been ironed for months. I didn’t want to go to school. I wanted to curl up and go back to sleep and stop thinking about Dad. I knew the change had been gradual but I guess I’d ignored it. It was like I only saw it for the first time last night and it had been like watching a stranger. I could see it play out in my mind and feel the helpless grip of fear when I thought he was dead, and the flash of fury when he was going to hurt Maggie.

  ‘Tom?’ There was a light tap on the door. ‘Do you want your breakfast before or after you’ve had a shower?’

  A gulped at how kind Maggie was. I didn’t like to think about what I would have done without her last night. ‘Tom? Are you okay?’

  ‘Yeah. Just waking up. I’ll shower first if that’s okay?’

  ‘Of course. Breakfast in twenty minutes. It’s eggs and toast. Do you want fried, scrambled or poached?’

  Having the conversation with her through the door made me smile despite everything. ‘Scrambled please.’

  ‘Right you are,’ she said and I heard the creak of the stairs as she went back down. I stared at my uniform for a moment. The bit of yesterday with Farah had been sandwiched between my dad’s outbursts and it had been great. Like the best home-made jam in a mouldy bread sandwich. A deep sigh escaped. Farah would be expecting me to be at school. I reached into my bag at the side of the bed and pulled out the revision cards she’d done for me. Her neat writing smiled back at me. I needed to have a shower and get ready.

  Maggie’s timing was perfect. As I walked into the kitchen she put a plate down on the table. Two slices of buttered toast with a mound of fluffy scrambled eggs on top. I was suddenly hungry. ‘Thanks.’

  ‘My pleasure. I’ve been thinking about getting you to school…’ An image of me on the back of the quad bike shot into my mind. ‘I’ve looked on the bus timetable,’ she said and I was relieved, ‘and as long as the buggers haven’t changed it, the number nineteen bus should drop you quite close to your school. It leaves in…’ She checked the kitchen clock and then her watch. ‘Twenty minutes.’

  ‘Okay.’ I knew some people who got that bus.

  She joined me at the table with a smaller version of my breakfast and a large mug of tea. ‘Lambs were a bit lively this morning,’ she said.

  ‘How many now?’

  ‘Six and there won’t be any more. Colin’s useless.’

  We ate in silence. But it was all right. It’s probably weird to compare silences but with Dad if he was silent it was like I was waiting for something to happen. For him to moan or shout or something. But with Maggie, it was just quiet. I liked that. I cleared the table and Maggie handed me a brown paper package. ‘I didn’t know what you did for lunch.’

  ‘I usually just have a slice of pizza.’

  ‘That’s not much. Here’s a cheese and pickle sandwich and a piece of fruit loaf. Is that enough?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘Right. Now what happens after school today? Are you going home?’

  I shook my head hard. The thought of it made my pulse race. ‘I can’t. Not yet.’

  She nodded her understanding. ‘Then a bus leaves from the stop by the school at half four. Here…’ She handed me a ten-pound note. I hesitated. I’d not thought before but me staying here was going to cost money and it wasn’t fair that Maggie should have to pay. ‘Go on, take it. I don’t want you being late.’ I did as she asked and she guided me out of the kitchen.

  ‘I’ll pay you back.’ I didn’t know how.

  ‘I’ve got a long list of jobs for you to do so I’ll more than get my money back.’ She opened the front door.

  ‘Maggie…’ How did I tell her how grateful I was? How I literally had nobody else but her. For no reason at all she was taking care of me. I swallowed hard. ‘Thanks.’ I kind of mumbled it because I was scared of crying.

  ‘You’re welcome. Now scoot or you’ll miss that bus.’

  I grabbed my bag and left.

  *

  It was a well weird day. It felt a bit like I was living someone else’s life. The bus made a nice change from the cycle ride I usually had. I had time to look over my revision notes again. When I walked into school Farah was with a group of girls so I didn’t stop but she ran after me.

  ‘How’d it go with your dad?’ she asked, her face full of concern.

  How was I meant to answer that? I couldn’t face lying to her and maybe I needed someone other than Maggie to know what was happening. And I was well pleased that she’d come over to ask me. ‘Not great. I’ve moved out.’

  ‘Tom? That’s awful.’ Awful was the last thing it was. I felt bad because I was glad to be away from him and it was great at Maggie’s. It was a bit how I imagined a holiday in a bed and breakfast would be. But free and run by someone who actually cared about you.

  ‘It is what it is. Thanks for your help yesterday.’

  ‘No worries.’ The other girls caught us up so I hurried off. I was doing better around Farah but a bunch of them was a whole different thing. As I turned a corner something struck me hard. I had my head down, as usual, so it hit my forehead and the top of my head. It bloody hurt but it could have been a lot worse. It knocked me off balance but I managed to stay upright and looked up to see Kemp holding up his rucksack. What the hell did he have in there? Bricks?

  Kemp’s grinning face loomed into mine. ‘I told you to keep away from her.’

  I rubbed my head. ‘But you didn’t tell her to keep away from me. She can’t get enough, Kemp. That’s not my fault.’ I probably asked for the bag to get swung in my face a second time but at least I was expecting it and managed to knock it off course with my forearm. It probably wasn’t smart but it felt good.

  Kemp squared up to me. Shiiiiiit. I hadn’t thought
this through at all.

  ‘Mr Thackery!’ I called down the corridor at the teacher’s back and Kemp scuttled out of sight. Only a temporary solution I feared.

  *

  There was no sign of Kemp after school, which was a relief. I did some revision in the school library until it was time to get the bus. It felt odd going back to Maggie’s instead of home. For the first time in hours I wondered how Dad was. My phone had been in my locker all day but there were no messages from him. The bus passed the end of Maggie’s track and I got a shot of happy through my veins. I wondered what was for dinner. The big breakfast, school lunch, sandwich and cake had kept me going all day but I was hungry now.

  As I approached the house I could hear the faint bleating of the lambs in the field below and a hint of summer in the air. I loved it here – it was peaceful.

  I tried the door and it was open. ‘Hiya!’ I called as I stepped inside.

  ‘Hello, Tom,’ called Maggie. ‘I’m in the sitting room.’

  I went through and came to a sudden halt. Maggie was upside down. She was balanced on her head and forearms with her legs tied in a knot above her. ‘What the…?’

  ‘Lotus headstand,’ she said, before taking a slow deep breath.

  ‘Right. Why?’ I wasn’t sure why you’d stand on your head voluntarily.

  Maggie let out the breath and as if in slow motion she uncrossed her legs and returned them to the floor and then into a kneeling position. ‘It’s yoga. I’m focusing on building strength in my upper arms.’

  ‘Right.’ She was full of surprises.

  ‘It’s very good for you. It also stretches your muscles and reverses the flow of gravity. It stimulates the immune system and improves your circulation.’

  ‘Gives you a different perspective too I guess.’ She had looked funny on her head.

  ‘Ha, ha,’ said Maggie. ‘Don’t knock it before you’ve tried it.’

  ‘Nah. You’re all right.’

  Maggie shifted into sitting with her legs crossed and tilted her head on one side. ‘Join me.’ I didn’t know what to do. I was pleased I hadn’t got PE while revision and exams were on the timetable; I wasn’t expecting to have to do some here. ‘Come on. Sitting on the floor is not taxing.’

  Reluctantly I sat opposite her on the rug. It took three goes to cross my legs and she chuckled at me. ‘My legs are longer than yours,’ I said in my defence.

  ‘And not half as flexible. At your age I could scratch my ears with my toes.’

  ‘There’s a useful skill.’ I laughed at the thought.

  ‘Close your eyes,’ said Maggie. I closed one to start with but she was watching me so I did as I was told. She talked slowly and we went through some breathing exercises. If it hadn’t been for the pins and needles in my foot it would have been quite relaxing.

  ‘Okay. Open your eyes,’ she said, eventually. ‘How was your day?’

  ‘All right.’

  She gave a penetrating squint. ‘I’m going to need more than that.’ Her eyes were curious, interested.

  I had a think. ‘We’re just going over stuff.’ She motioned with her hand for me to say more. ‘We did a timed test in maths and I did better than I thought I would. We went through some complicated stuff that regularly comes up in chemistry. I’m not sure I’m ever going to get it. And some listening in French, which was even worse.’ Her eyebrow twitched at this but she said nothing. ‘But I got eighty per cent in the history test we did.’

  She beamed at me and I wondered why. ‘Tom, that’s bloody marvellous! And a cause for celebration. I’ve made lemonade. Come on.’ She was on her feet and out of the room while I was still untangling my legs.

  *

  In the kitchen she filled two glasses from a tall jug with lemon slices floating in it. The liquid was an odd colour and cloudy. I sipped it cautiously. There was no need though; it was delicious. I pushed my fringe out of my eyes and winced when I touched my forehead.

  ‘You want to tell me about that?’ Maggie fixed me with her stare.

  She was like truth serum – I couldn’t lie to her. ‘Got whacked in the face. It’s no biggie.’

  ‘No biggie?’

  ‘Just some beef this kid has with me.’

  ‘Beef?’

  ‘Why are you repeating what I say?’

  ‘Because it’s like a different language and I’m trying to learn it. So the kid you’ve got beef with, is he a bully by any chance?’ She gave me a look that said she already knew the answer.

  ‘Yeah. But it’s no—’

  ‘Biggie?’

  ‘Exactly.’ She was funny. I wished she was my gran. I’d love a cool grandmother like Maggie. But grans weren’t cool. They did knitting and watched TV soaps, not yoga and riding quad bikes.

  ‘You need to learn to block. Sharpen your reflexes. Learn some martial arts.’

  ‘Yeah.’ She was probably right but it was easier to keep out of Kemp’s way. I’d probably make it worse if I stood up to him again.

  ‘I know some moves.’ She gave a shrug and carried on drinking her lemonade.

  ‘Martial arts?’ A snort of a laugh escaped but Maggie looked serious. ‘What, like karate?’

  ‘Quite a variety actually. I practise jujitsu, judo and some elements of aikido. All to a reasonable level.’

  A few things slotted into place. ‘That’s how you dodged Dad when he was about to punch you.’

  A smile tweaked at her lips.

  ‘And the bag snatcher. Oh and when you thumped me.’

  ‘I’m not apologising again. It was only a short jab.’

  ‘But it was right on target. Bloody hell, you’re the geriatric version of Bruce Lee!’

  ‘Rude,’ she said but she started to laugh.

  This was brilliant. I’ve always wanted to be able to do something cool like martial arts but Dad never had the money for me to join clubs. ‘Will you teach me some stuff?’ I asked.

  ‘I’d love to.’ She took my glass off me and my first martial arts lesson began.

  24

  MAGGIE

  Tom had taken an armful of wood down to Colin’s gate in the hope of repairing it when the phone rang.

  ‘Hello,’ said Maggie, while juggling a tin of nails.

  ‘Oh, uh. Hi, is Tom there?’

  She knew instinctively who it was. ‘Who’s calling?’ She sounded all prim even to herself.

  ‘It’s his dad.’

  ‘Ah, Mr Harris. I was hoping you’d call,’ said Maggie, pulling out a chair and getting herself comfortable. ‘How are you feeling?’

  There was a long pause. ‘I’m fine, thanks. Can I just speak to Tom?’

  ‘He’s out at the moment but I wanted to assure you that he’s fine.’

  ‘I know he’s fine,’ said Paul, his words clipped.

  ‘Well, you don’t know he’s fine because he’s been staying here for the last two nights and this is the first time you’ve called.’ She didn’t want a row but she wasn’t going to let him get away with washing over everything either. ‘He was in a real state when he called me. You frightened the life out of the poor boy.’ Paul went to interrupt but Maggie kept going. ‘You have him to thank for saving your life. I hope you understand that if it wasn’t for Tom you would be dead.’

  ‘That’s a bit dramatic,’ he said with a half-laugh.

  ‘Not in the least. It is pure and simple fact. You were choking. It took Tom a number of attempts to dislodge the blockage. You were unconscious and probably had minutes before you’d have suffocated. And your son witnessed that. Alone.’ Maggie’s grip on the phone had tightened and her pulse was rising. She didn’t want to get cross with the man but it was hard not to when his irresponsible attitude had caused it all. She concentrated on her breathing and let the silence settle.

  Paul cleared his throat. ‘Okay. Well, I hadn’t realised that.’

  Maggie nodded to herself, happy that she’d got her point across. ‘Tom is obviously concerned that this could happen again.’


  ‘Can you ask him to call me when he’s back?’

  ‘I shall but of course it is up to him whether he does or not.’

  ‘Now look here—’

  ‘I’ll pass the message on. Goodbye, Mr Harris.’ It gave Maggie great satisfaction to put the phone down.

  ‘Was that Dad?’ Maggie spun around to see Tom was standing by the back door.

  ‘Yes, it was. He wants you to call him back.’

  Tom shook his head. ‘I don’t want to talk to him.’

  Maggie’s head bobbed in understanding. ‘Of course. But you will need to speak to him at some point. My advice would be to not leave it too long.’ She gathered the tin of nails and went to put her wellies on.

  ‘I wouldn’t know what to say to him anyway,’ said Tom. He leaned against the doorframe looking solemn.

  Maggie paused with one wellie on. ‘Well. You need to be clear about what you want.’

  Tom screwed his face up. ‘Dad’s not going to listen to a list of demands.’

  ‘I don’t mean like that. Surely you want your dad to make some changes?’

  ‘I want him to stop drinking and stop going on about money and stop trying to force me to work at the factory.’

  ‘Maybe one thing at a time,’ said Maggie. ‘There’s lots of options for him to get help with the drinking. You could suggest some of those.’

  ‘What like a threat? I won’t come home unless you join Alcoholics Anonymous?’ Tom seemed quite buoyed by the prospect.

  ‘I wouldn’t call it a threat. More you showing that things can’t carry on as they are and that he needs to take some positive steps so you feel safe to come home.’

  Tom nodded a lot. ‘That’s it. Hang on I’ll tell him now.’ He scooted back inside and picked up the phone.

  Maggie only heard one side of the conversation. Tom spoke confidently and without making it sound like the ultimatum it was. She assumed Paul wasn’t keen on the compromise because Tom’s replies got shorter and shorter until he eventually fell silent. Maggie could hear Paul’s raised voice.

  At last Tom responded. ‘You almost decked, Maggie!’ There was a mumbled response.