I fussed over the lamb while Maggie made herself a cup of tea and a bottle of formula for Tyrion. ‘Come on. Out with it, Tom, it would be far better if you said what’s on your mind. Let the anger out. It does no good to bottle things up.’
I looked up at her and she handed me the lamb’s bottle. ‘Thanks,’ I said. She was right about me being angry, it was like that diagram on the indigestion advert having something acidic bubbling inside me all the time. But it was too awkward being instructed to have a go at someone especially when they were expecting it. I concentrated on the liquid in the bottle.
‘I know I hurt you. And I’m truly sorry but I can’t change what happened.’
Why was she always so reasonable? ‘I assumed River was dead,’ I said. Tyrion bleated for his bottle.
‘I know. I wasn’t sure how to tell you that he’d been taken away from me because I was an alcoholic.’
It was strange to hear her say that. I would never really be able to see her in the same group as my dad but she was. It seemed there was no particular type for who became addicted to stuff. ‘You could have said. I wouldn’t have minded.’ She raised her eyebrows, which said plenty. ‘Okay, maybe I would have minded but it would have been better than finding out like I did.’ We both looked at the kitchen table like it was to blame.
‘I know that must have been horrible for you. You see I wasn’t thinking straight. The letter was a bit of a shock and I’d left in such a hurry.’
For the first time I thought what the letter had meant for Maggie. Her son didn’t want to meet her. She’d reached out to him and he’d flatly refused. My anger disappeared like someone popping a balloon. I’d been too caught up in how I felt. Poor Maggie. Whatever she’d done, she was a good person and I didn’t like to see the sadness in her eyes. You didn’t get stories like this on that soppy Davina McCall programme. That was full of happy ever afters played out for the camera. This was real life, where real people hurt each other.
‘It’s a terrible thing to lose people you love from your life. The pain is the same however it happens and regardless of who is to blame,’ she said.
She was right but, for me and Maggie, things weren’t going to instantly go back to how they were. I tipped the bottle and Tyrion guzzled the formula down, his tail lashing about wildly. Maybe I’d stick to animals.
42
MAGGIE
Maggie had never been more grateful to an animal than she was to Tom the lamb, or Tyrion as he was originally called. He had provided some focus for the difficult hour and a half she’d spent with a subdued and morose teenage Tom. She hated herself for the damage she’d caused. Tom didn’t deserve any further upset in his life, but what was done couldn’t be undone. They had spent most of the time in silence taking it in turns to look at the clock whose hands seemed to move slower with every glance.
Inevitably Savage took longer than anticipated and when he finally banged on the front door the relief from both of them was palpable. Maggie rushed to answer it with a hobbling Tom close behind her. Savage held the bike up and then rested it against the house.
‘Is it fixed?’ asked Tom, craning to get a look at the bike.
‘It’s as good as I can get it,’ said Savage. ‘This modern stuff’s not built to last.’
‘But I can ride it. Right?’
‘Yes. You can ride it.’
Tom’s whole body appeared to loosen up. ‘Brilliant. Thanks.’ Savage nodded and made to leave. ‘How are the puppies?’ Tom sort of half shouted it at Savage’s back.
Savage turned around and frowned so hard his flat cap moved down his forehead. ‘Eating too much and making a mess. No takers as yet.’ Savage lifted his chin. ‘You know anyone who wants one?’
Tom shook his head, his face glum. ‘No.’
‘Do we owe you anything for fixing the bike?’ asked Maggie.
‘No,’ said Savage, already walking away.
Tom and Maggie looked at each other. Tom started putting his shoes on. She didn’t want to leave things like this but there was no more she could do.
Maggie’s phone rang and she cursed it but went to answer it anyway. It was a brief call and had Maggie marching back up the hall. ‘Get your shoes on. We’re going to the library,’ she said.
‘I can’t,’ said Tom, already doing up his laces. ‘I’ve got to get the bike back to Dad.’
‘We’ll drop that on the way. The library’s been burgled and Christine’s in a state.’
‘What?’ Tom looked surprised.
‘I’ve no other details but we need to help Christine. I’ll call a taxi.’
‘Err. Okay.’ He looked thrown by the change of plan. ‘You’d better check it’s big enough to take the bike.’
*
Tom left the bike in the passage at the side of the house, scribbled a quick note for his dad to say where he was going and got back in the taxi for the short trip to the library. There was no sign of anyone as Maggie paid the driver and Tom tried the library door.
The taxi pulled away and Maggie joined Tom who was peering through the glass. ‘I thought the place would be swarming with police cars,’ he said. Maggie rapped her knuckles on the door, making Tom pull his head back.
The blinds moved and drew their attention. ‘Christine, it’s us,’ called Tom and he gave a wave at the now empty window.
They heard Christine undo the interior door before she appeared and let them in. ‘How did they get in?’ asked Tom, swooping inside.
‘Are you all right?’ asked Maggie, taking Christine by the arms and checking her over.
‘Mmm. You’d better come in,’ said Christine, locking up behind them and following them into the library.
Tom and Maggie scanned the room. ‘What did they take?’ asked Tom.
‘Sit down,’ said Christine, pulling out a chair. Tom and Maggie reluctantly sat down while Christine hovered behind a chair. A rap on the door had her apologising and scurrying off to answer it.
‘What’s going on?’ whispered Tom to Maggie.
‘Absolutely no idea,’ she replied.
‘Oh crap,’ said Tom, spotting who was at the door.
Farah came hesitantly inside. ‘Hi.’ She gave an awkward wave to Maggie and Tom. ‘I came as soon as I got the message.’
‘I’ve got to go.’ Tom limped for the door and Christine blocked his exit.
‘What’s wrong with your leg?’ asked Farah, her brow puckered with concern.
‘Got knocked off my bike,’ said Tom.
Farah pulled her head back as if the words had punched her. ‘Hell. Are you all right?’
‘Massive bruise on my thigh. Bike got mangled…’ He glanced at Maggie. ‘But Maggie got it fixed for me.’
‘You could have been seriously hurt,’ said Farah.
‘Yeah, well,’ said Tom, putting his hands in his trouser pockets. He tilted his head towards the door. ‘I should go.’ He gave Farah a wistful look.
‘Can I update everyone first?’ said Christine, wringing her hands.
‘Don’t leave because of me, Tom,’ said Farah. ‘The library being vandalised affects us all.’
Tom spun around. ‘Vandalised? I thought you said burgled.’ He pointed at Maggie.
‘Yes, Christine, said it had been burgled. Didn’t you, Christine?’ asked Maggie.
‘I think you all need to sit down.’ Christine tried to usher them onto chairs. Farah and Tom sat either side of Maggie. Everyone waited.
‘What’s going on?’ asked Tom, scanning the room again. Maggie was thinking the same as him: she couldn’t see any sign of a burglary or vandalism.
Christine slunk into a seat opposite the three of them making it look like she was being interviewed by a panel. ‘Please let me explain.’
Christine put her hands together as if she were praying and stared at her fingers as she spoke. ‘I didn’t know what else to say that would get you all to come tonight.’ She looked up. ‘I’m really sorry but now you’re all here…’ She gave a fleet
ing smile.
‘What’s going on?’ said Tom, straightening his back. ‘Was it all lies?’
Christine bit her lip. ‘You’ve all stopped coming to the library.’ She sniffed back tears. ‘It feels like there’s just me and—’
Maggie put her hand up to pause Christine. ‘So you’re all right and the library is okay?’ Christine nodded and blew her nose.
‘You lied about a burglary!’ said Tom, getting to his feet. ‘That’s proper twisted.’ He shook his head. ‘I’m off.’
‘Wait!’ said Farah, making Tom do an emergency stop in front of her. ‘I’m not saying what Christine’s done is right but I know I feel bad about not coming to the library these last couple of weeks.’ She leaned to the side to look around Tom at Christine. ‘I’m sorry if you feel I’ve let you down, Christine.’
Maggie sighed. ‘I agree. I’m sorry I’ve stopped coming too.’
All eyes fell on Tom. He shrugged his shoulders. ‘I’m sure there was a better way to get us here. But… yeah, I feel bad about not supporting you.’ He and Farah exchanged brief nods and he returned to his chair.
‘Thank you,’ said Christine. ‘I am sorry for lying.’
‘Right,’ said Maggie, keen to not go around in circles. ‘Where do we go from here?’
‘That’s my problem,’ said Christine. ‘I’ve had notice that I’m being made redundant because the library is definitely closing and I don’t know what else I can do.’
‘You’re not on your own anymore,’ said Farah. Christine looked grateful and inched her chair closer to the others.
‘We need one last push. A big protest! Like a march that stops the traffic…’ began Maggie.
‘Not much traffic goes through Compton Mallow. It’s not going to gridlock the Midlands,’ said Tom.
Maggie continued regardless. ‘…Or a human barrier in front of the library when they come to shut it down,’ she said.
‘Bit late when they’re actually closing it,’ said Tom and the others glared at him. ‘What? I’m just saying.’
‘But a sit-in protest in the middle of the street might get the council’s attention,’ said Maggie.
‘Will it, though?’ asked Farah. ‘I mean we did the sit-in inside and it’s not changed anything. The council aren’t taking any notice.’
They all went quiet and thought for a moment. Tom chewed on a thumbnail.
‘We need an angle,’ said Maggie. ‘Something that makes people sit up and listen. Is the old school building listed?’ She looked to Christine for a reply.
Tom sat up straight. ‘This is the old school building on the green,’ he said.
‘Er, yeah,’ said Farah slowly. ‘That’s what it’s called.’
‘This guy had that typed on a form,’ said Tom, waving his hands as if trying to process his thoughts quickly. He turned to Maggie. ‘The bloke who ran me over…’
‘Lyle,’ added Maggie.
‘From that building company…’ continued Tom.
‘Taylor’s Builders,’ said Maggie.
‘Yes.’ Tom pointed at Maggie, like she’d answered a question in a quiz show. ‘He had a form on the front seat of his van and I had to move it to the floor. It had this address on it.’ Tom was bobbing up and down in his seat.
‘Tom, this could be important. What else did it say?’ asked Maggie, leaning forward.
Tom closed his eyes for a moment. ‘There were some numbers…’
‘Excellent.’ Maggie clapped her hands together. This was progress. ‘It was probably a quote to do work. What else was on the form?’
Tom tipped his head up to the ceiling. ‘I can’t remember anything else.’
43
TOM
I felt like an idiot for not being able to remember anything else from the form I’d seen in the builder’s van but I’d only glimpsed it for a moment. The large number at the bottom had made me gawp at that bit rather than the address. Maggie seemed to think it was a breakthrough but I wasn’t so sure. It wasn’t exactly concrete evidence that something dodgy was going on.
We needed to raise more awareness, get in people’s faces. With Maggie directing everything we’d made some plans for a big Save The Library demonstration on Friday afternoon. Maggie thought if we caught the rush hour traffic – yeah, right, all four cars and a tractor – in Compton it would make more of an impact. She called it impact – pissing people off was what I’d call it but if it got us the attention we needed to save the library and Christine’s job then I was up for it. We’d made a list of people to contact in the hope of stirring up some support from the locals and enough interest for the press and council to make sure they were there to see it.
I still think Christine was out of order telling us the library had been burgled but I get why she did it. We all do crazy stuff when we feel threatened. She was right that we’ve been distracted with other things. All being back together fired us up again. There is a special vibe about the library or maybe it’s the people in it? We had a good discussion about what we needed to do and I think it got us refocused. We all had our instructions from Maggie – Christine was progressing from posters to placards, which was something. Farah was leading the leaflet drop. Maggie was contacting the press and the council and I was doing a social media blast. Basically we needed more signatures on our petition so I’d set us up a Twitter account and I planned to tweet loads of authors and ask for their support. I hoped it would work.
Being back in the library made me think about the place. I’d hate it to close down. If it wasn’t for the library I’d never have met Maggie or got to know Farah – not that either of those relationships was going particularly well. There was also something else. The library had somehow renewed my connection to Mum. When I was there I got little slivers of memories of her. Sometimes it was the waft of the pages of a new book, not that I’m a book sniffer or anything but there’s something about that smell that reminds me of Mum. I remember her reading to me here and being excited about the story but also feeling safe and cosseted. The library and reading had been our thing and now I was reconnecting with books I was kind of reconnected with her. Whatever it was it felt better and I didn’t want to lose it.
Things were uncomfortable with Farah but at least we were talking again even if it wasn’t like before. I was dying to know about her and Kemp but that was the last thing I could ask her. It bothered me more than I wanted to admit that she was hooking up with that goon but there was nothing I could do about it.
It took me a while to get all the tweets out. Maggie left to catch her bus but Christine waited and locked up after me. I had hoped Farah would wait too and walk back with me but she said she had to go. I walked home on my own. There weren’t many people about – a few in the chippy and the pub. That was all. When I opened the front door I realised Dad hadn’t left for work yet. I checked my watch. I should have hung around at the library for a few more minutes and I would have missed him. I wasn’t being mean; I just didn’t want to be here when he looked at the bike.
‘Hiya,’ he said. He was in the kitchen putting some things in his bag and he turned his back to me and hurried to complete the task. ‘You all right?’ he asked over one shoulder.
I stayed in the hallway. ‘Um. Not really. I got knocked off my bike today.’ It was still my bike even though we both used it.
He left the bag and came to the doorway. He looked concerned and I was pleased to see it. ‘Are you hurt?’
‘Bashed my leg up a bit but otherwise I’m okay.’
His concern deepened. ‘And the bike?’
‘I got it fixed.’ The relief spread across his features. ‘Well, Maggie got someone to fix it. It’s not perfect but it’s better than it was. I left you a message.’ I pointed to the note on the hallstand where I’d left it.
‘Sorry, I didn’t see that.’
‘Didn’t you wonder where I was?’ As far as he knew I was hours late in from school and I’d had no tea.
He shrugged and went back in t
o the kitchen to hastily zip up his bag. ‘I figured you’d be out with your mates celebrating the end of the exams.’ He heaved the bag onto his shoulder and came to face me in the hall. I was a fraction taller than him. I’m not sure when that happened.
‘The exams don’t finish until Friday morning.’ And what mates were these? I wondered. He had no idea about my life but even now, after he was off the alcohol, he wasn’t interested in finding out. I think that made it hurt a bit more. At least before he had an excuse.
‘Oh. Right. Are you going out?’ he asked.
‘No.’ I tried not to sound irritated but it was hard. ‘I’ve just got in and I have no mates to go out with.’
‘Right. Night then.’ He put his head down and left me standing in the hall. I heard the click of the key in the lock and it made an odd sensation run through me. I hated being alone here at night. I’d never liked it but it was worse now, more obvious somehow. I took a deep breath and went to make myself some food and set about some final revision. My life was one big party.
*
I was having breakfast when Dad came in from work. ‘There you go!’ he said triumphantly plonking a typed letter down in front of me and patting it for emphasis.
‘What’s this?’
‘Read it,’ he said standing over me proudly. Why couldn’t he just tell me?
I skim-read the first bit. The letter was addressed to me. It was confirming my interview for an apprenticeship at the dog food factory. ‘What the—?’ I stared at it as something burned in my gut.
He slapped me on the back. ‘You’re welcome.’
How could he still be going on about this? ‘But, Dad…’
‘You said your last exam was Friday morning. This is for the afternoon. They had someone drop out.’
‘I wonder why?’
‘Dunno.’ My sarcasm was lost on him. He scanned me up and down. ‘You can wear your school uniform but maybe tidy yourself up.’
All kinds of alarm bells were echoing in my ears. ‘Dad, look, I am grateful for you sorting this out but—’
The Library Page 25