The Last Library

by Freya Sampson

  ‘OK.’

  ‘Gayle has announced that as well as the main wedding cake she also wants cupcakes, so now I have to bake one hundred of those on top of everything else.’

  June busied herself with some stock so she wouldn’t have to engage in conversation about the wedding. The thought of that hen do still made her whole body ache with humiliation two weeks later.

  ‘By the way, do you know what those so-called Friends of Chalcot Library are up to?’ Marjorie said. ‘They’ve been suspiciously quiet since those bloody posters.’

  ‘I have no idea.’

  ‘Well, keep your ear to the ground. I don’t want any more nasty surprises.’

  *

  At midday, June left the library and caught the bus, disembarking on Winton high street into a sea of shoppers and pedestrians. She hated crowds at the best of times, let alone in this weather, but she put her head down and forced herself to join them. All she needed was to collect Marjorie’s cake trays and pop to M&S to buy her usual value pack of plain white high-legged briefs, and then she could catch the bus back.

  As she made her way up the high street, June noticed a shop to her left that she’d not spotted before. It had a purple frontage and in the window was a mannequin wearing some black underwear. It was much fancier than the kind of thing June wore and probably twice the price. But, on the plus side, it would save her another ten minutes jostling in the crowds all the way to M&S. June swerved left and headed in.

  ‘Hey, can I help you?’ A young woman with facial piercings greeted June as she walked through the door.

  ‘Thanks, but I’m just browsing,’ June said. She moved into the shop, but the assistant followed her.

  ‘We’ve got fifteen per cent off all toys at the moment, so you’ve come at the perfect time.’

  June hadn’t realised she was in a toy shop. She looked around her for the first time and her eyes fell on a display holding dozens of boxes containing what looked like lipsticks. She picked one up and almost dropped it on the floor. ‘Jesus, is that a—?’

  ‘That’s the seven-speed purple python, it’s one of our bestsellers.’

  June was so surprised that she didn’t know where to look.

  ‘We’ve also got a two-for-one on the vibrating bullet.’ The woman offered her a small, spherical object.

  ‘Sorry, I thought this was an underwear shop.’

  ‘We’ve got lingerie too. Over here.’ The assistant led her to a rail behind them, where a selection of lacy underwear was hanging up. With relief, June spotted a pair of plain-looking white knickers and picked them up, only to see that they didn’t have a crotch.

  ‘I’m guessing you’re new to all of this. The beaded rabbit is a good entry-level toy,’ the girl said, handing June a box containing a giant, pink object.

  June was desperate to get out of the shop, but she didn’t know how to politely escape from this overenthusiastic sales assistant, who was now approaching her with a terrifying-looking silver object.

  ‘I’ll just take these, please,’ June said, thrusting the crotchless knickers towards her.

  ‘Great choice. There’s a matching peep-hole bra and suspenders, if you’d like to get those too?’

  ‘This will be fine, thanks.’

  ‘Would you like a loyalty card? You get—’

  ‘It’s OK thanks, I’ve got to run. Thanks so much for your help.’ June grabbed the purple bag and sprinted out of the shop. As she did so, her body collided with someone walking past.

  ‘Well, I never . . .’

  June looked up to see Linda grinning at her, her eyebrows raised. ‘Good for you, love.’

  ‘I thought it was an underwear shop,’ June blurted out.

  ‘Buy anything nice?’ Linda was eyeing the bag in her hand. ‘Tell me, is it something for you? Or a present for Alex?’

  ‘Stop it!’ June shrieked, and Linda threw back her head in laughter.

  ‘Oh, I wish you could see your face now. Come on, I’ll buy you a drink while you cool down.’ She led June across the road and into a coffee shop. ‘You find a table and I’ll grab us some teas.’

  June found them a spot by the window. She’d never been in here before and it was cavernous, with wooden floors and exposed brickwork. Dozens of people were sitting at small tables, chatting or working on their laptops. It was smart but June preferred the independent cafe up the road, with its mismatched sofas and eccentric proprietor.

  ‘Here, I got us a piece of cake too,’ Linda said, putting the tray down on the table.

  ‘Thanks, Linda, you’re my saviour once again.’

  ‘I’m glad I bumped into you, I keep meaning to pop round.’

  ‘What’s Alan Bennett done now?’

  ‘It’s not him. I noticed this in the window of the village shop the other day and thought it might be of interest to you.’ Linda rummaged around in her handbag and pulled out a crumpled piece of paper, handing it to June.

  Do you have any old books you no longer need? Cherry Tree Retirement Home is in desperate need of second-hand books for our residents. All genres welcome.

  ‘I just thought this could be a great home for some of your mum’s old books,’ Linda said.

  ‘Thanks,’ June said, stuffing the flyer into her bag before Linda could say anything else.

  ‘So, how’s it going with Alex? Have you had another date?’

  ‘It wasn’t a date. I told you, we’re just friends.’

  ‘That’s a shame. He’s so handsome – don’t you fancy him?’

  ‘No,’ June said, not looking Linda in the eye. ‘Besides, he has a girlfriend.’

  ‘Are you sure? George never mentioned one, and I’ve grilled him about Alex.’

  ‘He definitely does.’ June skewered a piece of carrot cake with vehemence.

  ‘Has Alex told you about her?’

  ‘No, but I heard her on the phone.’

  Linda frowned. ‘Weird. I wonder why he’d keep her a secret from everyone? Maybe she’s really ugly or stupid or something.’

  ‘Linda, you can’t say that! I’m sure she’s beautiful and smart.’ June pictured a tall woman with long, silky hair and a husky voice, wearing a sexy black dress. She imagined her and Alex together on a date, laughing about that stupid girl in Chalcot who had no friends or life. June stuffed a large forkful of cake in her mouth.

  ‘Oh, well, that’s a shame. Still, there are plenty more fish in the sea. You know my Martin is single again?’

  June could feel Linda’s eyes on her; she’d been trying to set June up with her youngest son ever since they were teenagers. June picked up her mug to take a drink so she wouldn’t have to reply. But as she went to take a sip, she caught sight of the logo on the side of the cup. At first glance it looked like a red swirl, but when she looked at it closer, she could see it was two intertwined ‘C’s. June stared at it, trying to place where she’d seen this image before.

  ‘No!’ she said, slamming the mug down.

  ‘What? Martin’s not that bad, is he?’

  ‘This image – is it for this cafe?’

  ‘Of course, it’s the Cuppa Coffee logo.’

  ‘Cuppa Coffee. Oh my god.’

  ‘What’s wrong, love? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.’

  June pictured the Mrs Coulter lookalike she’d seen in the library all those weeks ago. ‘I’ve seen this logo before, on the clipboard of a woman at the library.’

  ‘So what?’ Linda said.

  ‘She was meeting with Marjorie and I thought she was a management consultant, but what if she wasn’t? What if she works for Cuppa Coffee?’

  ‘I’m sorry, love, I’m not following you.’

  June looked at Linda, her eyes wide. ‘I hope I’m wrong, Linda, but I think Cuppa Coffee might be trying to buy Chalcot Library.’

  Chapter Nineteen

  WHEN JUNE ARRIVED AT the library an hour later, she expected to find the place in uproar, but it was as calm as ever. There was no sign of Mrs B or Stan
ley, and when June checked her phone there was still no reply to the message she’d sent from Matilda. Perhaps they’d not seen it yet?

  ‘About time,’ Marjorie said, joining June by the door. ‘Did you get me those cake trays?’

  ‘I’m so sorry, I forgot.’

  ‘For god’s sake, I asked you to do one simple task . . .’ Marjorie rolled her eyes. ‘I’ll go and get them now, so you’ll have to close up on your own.’

  June watched her march out of the building. Was Marjorie really involved in a plot to close the library? June had spent the whole bus ride back from Winton wondering about this. On the one hand it seemed an absurd idea: Marjorie had worked at the library for thirty years and, however annoying the woman might be, she’d always seemed devoted to the place. But June had seen Marjorie and the Cuppa Coffee woman here together, heard them discussing the building. And she’d overheard Marjorie’s husband talking about bribing county councillors about something. What if Brian and Marjorie were working to get the library closed so a Cuppa Coffee could open here instead? June had said all of this in her Twitter messages to FOCL, so why weren’t Mrs Bransworth and Stanley here now, kicking up a fuss?

  The rest of the afternoon crept by. June tried to focus on her work, but she couldn’t concentrate and kept checking her phone. At five o’clock, the last of the visitors left, and June was shutting down the computers when she heard the sound of the front door opening.

  ‘I’m sorry, we’re closed,’ she called out, but when she turned around, Stanley was standing in the doorway. June was about to blurt out about Cuppa Coffee, before remembering that he still had no idea she was Matilda.

  ‘Don’t mind me, you carry on as you are,’ Stanley said, and he walked over to his chair and sat down, placing a bag at his feet.

  ‘Um, it’s closing time,’ June said. ‘You need to leave.’ Something about the serene expression on Stanley’s face was making her nervous.

  ‘I’m afraid I’m not going anywhere, my dear.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  Stanley glanced around the library. ‘Is Marjorie here?’

  ‘No, it’s just me.’

  ‘Well, in that case, I suppose I’ll have to tell you.’

  ‘Tell me what?’

  Stanley sat up straight in his chair. ‘As of now, I am officially occupying Chalcot Library.’

  June did a double take. ‘What?’

  ‘FOCL have a whistle-blower who has informed us that Marjorie and Brian are working with a private corporation to get the library closed. So, I’ve decided to occupy the library until the council finally listens to what we have to say.’

  ‘But I can’t let you stay here out of operating hours. Marjorie would kill me.’

  ‘I’ll tell her I hid in the toilet when you locked up. That way, you can go home now, and you won’t have anything to do with it.’

  June didn’t know how to respond. Surely she’d be sacked for gross misconduct if she left Stanley in the library? But how was she supposed to get him out? He might have been eighty-two, but he was much bigger than her; she could hardly manhandle him out of the building.

  ‘Please, you can’t sleep here. Can you find another way to protest?’

  He gave her a small, sad smile. ‘I’m sorry, but I can’t walk away and let the library be sold out from under our feet.’

  June looked at him helplessly. ‘But I can’t just leave you here.’

  ‘Don’t worry, I shall look after this place as if it were my own home.’

  ‘But Marjorie will—’

  ‘Never mind Marjorie,’ Stanley interrupted. ‘Sometimes we have to break the rules if we care about something, June. And I care a great deal about Chalcot Library.’

  June paused, paralysed with indecision. Should she call Marjorie and warn her? But then Marjorie would demand that June got Stanley out, or blame her for this happening. Perhaps the easiest thing was just to leave Stanley here overnight and let Marjorie deal with him in the morning.

  Reluctantly, June went to the office to get her bag. When she came back out, he was still sitting in his chair, reading the newspaper.

  ‘Do you really have to do this, Stanley?’

  He looked up from the paper. ‘I’m afraid so, my dear. But I’ll make sure none of this reflects badly on you.’

  June walked towards the front door and switched off the lights. She glanced back at Stanley, an elderly man in a tweed suit. A sudden image flashed into her mind of her mum standing at that very same table, helping a patron with something. Her mum looked up from what she was doing and stared straight at June, unsmiling.

  What are you so afraid of, Junebug?

  June faltered, her hand on the doorknob.

  Imagine being twenty-eight and never having done anything.

  She closed her eyes, hearing the blood pumping in her ears.

  Your mother would be ashamed of you.

  June opened her eyes and let go of the door handle.

  What would Matilda do?

  She swung round to face Stanley. ‘I’ll stay with you,’ she blurted out, before she could stop herself.

  He looked up at June in surprise. ‘What?’

  ‘I’ll join you, Stanley; I’ll stay here too.’

  ‘That’s very kind, but there’s really no need. I’m perfectly fine on my own.’

  ‘But one person isn’t really a protest, is it? If you want the council to listen, then you need more people.’

  ‘I appreciate your offer, but what would Marjorie say if she found you here? You don’t want to risk your job for a silly old man like me.’

  June felt as if she was standing on the edge of a precipice, peering down from a dizzying height, and for a moment she wondered if she should take a step back and run to the safety of home before it was too late. She swallowed before she spoke again. ‘Stanley, there’s something I need to tell you.’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘The thing is . . . I’m Matilda.’

  He stared at her in astonishment. ‘I beg your pardon?’

  ‘I’ve been sending you the Twitter messages. I’m the one who sent Rocky to the church hall and I put up all the posters round the village. I’ve been too scared to do anything publicly and risk losing my job, but I’m tired of living in fear.’

  ‘Really? My goodness, I had no idea.’ Stanley’s face broke into a grin. ‘But still, June, there’s a difference between helping anonymously and joining me here. Are you sure you really want to do this?’

  ‘Yes, I’m sure,’ June said, and as she said the words out loud, she realised that she truly meant them. ‘This library is the most important thing in my life, and I want to fight for it. Whatever the consequences.’

  ‘Hurrah!’ Stanley said, punching the air. ‘Then let the Chalcot Library occupation begin.’

  Chapter Twenty

  JUNE LOCKED THE DOORS from the inside and turned around to see Stanley pacing the floor.

  ‘Well, this is jolly exciting,’ he said. ‘I don’t suppose you have any food in this place?’

  She went into the office and found a packet of salt and vinegar crisps and some stale custard creams, then made two cups of tea and carried them back out. Stanley had set up a couple of lamps on the floor behind the desk, and was sitting in a chair next to them. It looked like a strange kind of campfire.

  ‘It’s best no one knows we’re here yet. That way we can prepare our surprise attack for tomorrow,’ he said.

  ‘You’ve read too many war novels, Stanley.’ June laid their meagre picnic out on the desk and sat down next to him. ‘What do you think will happen tomorrow?’

  ‘Well, Marjorie will arrive, and we’ll bar her entry,’ he said, helping himself to a biscuit. ‘I imagine she’ll call the council, who will send someone down. And that’s when we give them our demands.’

  ‘What demands?’

  ‘That they promise to keep the library open and under council funding.’

  ‘But they’ll never agree to that.
’

  ‘Then we stay here until they do.’

  ‘And you won’t mention my theory about Cuppa Coffee?’

  ‘No. We need evidence before we can go to the police with that.’

  At the word ‘police’, June felt a shiver down her spine. ‘Do you think the police will come to arrest us?’

  ‘We’re not technically breaking the law as long as we don’t damage anything. If they want to get us out, they will need to go through the courts to get an eviction notice, which could take weeks.’

  June imagined still being here in several weeks’ time, alone with Stanley, eating books to fend off starvation. ‘You seem to know a lot about this. Have you occupied somewhere before?’

  ‘A political protest? Goodness, no.’ He looked like he was about to say something else, but helped himself to another custard cream.

  ‘So, what do we do in the meantime?’

  ‘Well, we could get to know each other a bit better.’ Stanley leaned back in his chair, cradling the mug in his hands. ‘I’ve seen you in this library every day for years, but I know little of your life outside these four walls.’

  ‘I’m afraid there’s not much to tell.’

  ‘Nonsense. Let’s begin at the beginning. Were you born in Chalcot?’

  ‘No, in Bath, but we moved here when I was four. Mum inherited the house when my grandfather died, and then we came here after she got her job at the library.’

  ‘And what of your father? I don’t believe I ever had the pleasure of meeting the fellow.’

  ‘Me neither.’

  The sun was getting low in the sky, stretching long shadows against the shelves. June picked at a loose bit of wood on the desk.

  ‘I am sorry to hear that,’ Stanley said, after a while. ‘May I take the liberty of asking you another question?’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘Did you ever feel you missed out on not having a father?’

  June so rarely thought about the man who had conceived her that the question caught her off guard. ‘Not really. I got teased about it a bit at school, but my mum was so brilliant that she did the job of two parents.’

  Stanley was staring off into the distance, lost in thought. June looked around the library, trying to work out where they were going to sleep.