The Last Chance Library

by Freya Sampson

  “Life could be full of excitement, if you allow yourself to live a little.” Stanley nodded across the road, and June turned to see Alex walking down the pavement on the other side of the Parade. He was staring at his phone screen, his hair falling in his eyes. June looked back and saw that Stanley was watching her with his gap-toothed smile. “Alex is a fine young man, isn’t he?”

  June took a sip of her tea.

  “I’ve seen the two of you together in the library, talking about books. He seems to have something of a soft spot for you.”

  “Don’t be daft.”

  “Time is precious, my dear. If you have romantic intentions toward Alex, you should tell him.”

  “It’s not like that between us—we’re just friends. And he has a girlfriend.”

  “Really? He’s never mentioned anyone to me.”

  “He’s really private about her for some reason, but I know she exists.”

  Stanley frowned. “June, I apologize if this is too forward. But I would hate for you to end up like me, alone and with a life full of regrets. You have an opportunity here and you should seize it with both hands.”

  “You shouldn’t have regrets, Stanley. I know you’ve made some mistakes, but it’s not too late to change things with your son. Why don’t you fly out to America to see him?”

  “I wish it were that simple.” Stanley looked in through the window of the library and exhaled. “I will never regret what we’ve done here, though. This has been marvelous.”

  “It’s been surreal,” June said. “I can’t believe all these strangers came to support us today.”

  “Oh, I can.”

  “Don’t get me wrong—it’s brilliant. I just don’t understand why the WI ladies would come and protest for a library they’ve never been to before.”

  Stanley looked at her. “Did I tell you why I got involved with this library campaign?”

  June shook her head.

  “After Kitty and Mark moved to America, things went downhill for me. I had been drinking heavily before, but with them gone, I didn’t even try to restrain myself. Within twelve months I’d lost my job, my house, everything. I moved around a lot back then, finding somewhere to sleep for a while before being thrown out, like some kind of vagrant. I even lived in a tent for a while.”

  “Oh, Stanley, I’m so sorry. That’s awful.”

  “But here’s the thing—wherever I ended up, and however much trouble I was in, there was always a library. A place that was safe and warm and dry, where no one would judge me. Libraries were my only light in some very dark times. And so when the council threatened this place, it felt like a threat to every library I’ve ever sought sanctuary in—an attack on every librarian who had ever come to my aid. And I think that’s why these people are here today. As Mrs. Bransworth said, this protest isn’t just for Chalcot. It’s for all the libraries out there.”

  June watched Stanley as he spoke. All these years she’d thought she had no friends, and the whole time he had been there for her every single day: kind and patient and loyal. How had she been so blind? She reached across and put her hand on top of his.

  “Thank you, Stanley.”

  “Whatever for?”

  “For being you. I don’t know what I’d have done without you since Mum died.”

  He patted her hand. “That’s what friends are for, my dear. Now, let’s get back inside before the best biscuits get eaten, shall we?”

  They got up and walked toward the library. As they did, June saw a smartly dressed man with a briefcase walking across the road toward them.

  “I wonder if he’s another journalist,” she said.

  “I’m afraid the protest has quietened down a bit now,” Stanley said, when they met him at the library door. “You should have been here a few hours ago.”

  “Are you protesters?”

  “Yes, we started the occupation,” Stanley said. “Do come in, sir.”

  As they stepped in through the door, the man stopped, reached into his briefcase, and pulled out a manila envelope, which he handed to June. “This is notice that an interim possession order has been served. You all have twenty-four hours to vacate the property or you’ll be breaking the law.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  “Look at this—we’re famous!”

  June woke up, bleary-eyed and sore from a night spent under Marjorie’s desk, to find Stanley, Mrs. B, and Chantal poring over the newspapers. Mrs. B handed her a copy of the Guardian. On page sixteen was a photo of the library under the headline pensioners occupy library as dunningshire council threatens six with closure.

  “It’s the same in most of these,” Stanley said, indicating the other papers in front of them. “And Mrs. Bransworth has been invited on the radio.”

  June glanced at the newspapers. There was a photo of her, Stanley, and Mrs. B in one of them, grinning at the camera, and another showed the WI ladies with their placards.

  “It’s not helped, though, has it?” Chantal said. “We’re still being evicted today.”

  “No, but all this publicity has to be good for us,” June said. “The council will find it much harder to close the library now we’ve been all over the news.” She looked to Stanley for agreement, but he wouldn’t meet her eye.

  The party feel of the last few days was gone, replaced by a sober quiet. They got to work cleaning and tidying the library, making sure it was spotless before the council arrived: Stanley and Chantal were finishing painting over twenty years’ worth of graffiti in the toilet, while Mrs. B dusted the long-neglected window blinds. Overnight, someone had spilled a small splash of coffee on the carpet and so June got on her hands and knees to scrub the stain. Nobody spoke, lost in their own thoughts.

  “They’re here,” Mrs. B said, a little after midday.

  June looked outside to where a police van was pulling up in front of the library. Half a dozen officers climbed down. “Why are the police here?”

  “In case we don’t leave peacefully,” Mrs. B said, grim-faced. “They’re preparing for a fight.”

  “Have they seen us?” Stanley said. “We’re hardly anarchists; I read the Telegraph, for goodness’ sake.”

  “Look who else is here,” June said, as Richard, Sarah, Marjorie, and Brian crossed the road and joined the police.

  Richard had a conversation with one of the police officers, who handed him a megaphone. He pressed a button and there was a loud squeal, causing everyone outside to put their hands over their ears. The police officer stepped forward and showed him how to work it.

  Richard put the megaphone to his mouth and turned to the library. “Right, you lot, the fun’s over. You’ve had twenty-four hours since we served you the IPO. It’s time to get out.”

  Inside the library, not one of them moved, all staring through the window at him. June could feel her heart racing. Out of the corner of her eye she could see Tessa and Cleo moving toward the library, Cleo’s camera on her shoulder, already filming.

  “We’re not going anywhere until you promise our library is safe,” Stanley shouted through the glass.

  “Really, Stanley?” June whispered. “They have the eviction order. There’s nothing we can do now.”

  “This is our last chance to fight.”

  “There’s no point resisting,” Richard’s voice came back at them through the megaphone. “If you don’t leave now, you’ll be committing an offense and will be arrested.”

  “Chantal, you should go,” Mrs. B said. “Your mum would kill us if you got in trouble.”

  She hesitated, then nodded. “Okay. Good luck, guys.”

  June unlocked the front door and Chantal walked out, glancing back over her shoulder with an attempt at a smile.

  “That’s right. Out you come, nice and easy.” Richard’s expression suggested he was enjoying this power. “Now, the rest of you have t
hree minutes or I’m sending in the police.”

  June looked at Stanley. “Just because the occupation is ending doesn’t mean we have to stop fighting,” she said. “Now that I’m in this with you, I won’t give up. We’ll find another way to protest.”

  “You know as well as I do that this is over,” Stanley said. “The council haven’t once tried to negotiate with us this week—they haven’t shown any interest in hearing what we have to say. All they want is to get us out so they can shut this place down.”

  “But surely it must be harder for them to close the library after all of this.”

  Stanley shook his head. “I wish I had your youthful optimism, June.”

  “Two minutes,” Richard’s voice blared through at them.

  “God, that man is a prick,” Mrs. B said. “Stanley, I hate to admit it, but I think June is right. This occupation is over; there’s no point in getting yourself arrested for the sake of it. We have to find other ways to keep the fight going.”

  “I agree; there’s no point in all of us getting arrested,” Stanley said. “You two should leave now.”

  “No one’s getting arrested. Come on, let’s all get out of here.” Mrs. B walked toward the door. “It’s been a great occupation,” she said with a sigh as she stepped outside.

  “One minute,” Richard’s voice boomed.

  The library felt very empty now. June and Stanley looked at each other.

  “You go too, my dear,” he said. “I’ll be fine on my own.”

  “I’m not going anywhere without you,” June said. “We started this together and we’ll finish it together.”

  “You’re more stubborn than you look.” He began walking toward the door, and June felt a rush of relief.

  “Thank you,” she said, following him. “Let’s all go home and have a proper rest, and next week we can regroup and plan what to do next.”

  He pulled the door open. Outside June could see Richard, the police officers, the news camera.

  “Ladies first,” Stanley said, and June took a deep breath and stepped outside. As she did, she felt a breeze of wind behind her and she turned back around as Stanley pulled the door shut.

  “No, Stanley!” she cried, trying to pull it open, but he’d locked it from the inside already and was heaving the returns trolley in front of the door. June looked round to Richard and the police. “Please don’t arrest him. He just cares about the library.”

  “I’m sorry, ma’am, but the twenty-four hours is up,” one of the police officers said, giving June an apologetic shrug. “He’s now breaking the law by not complying with the eviction order.”

  “But he’s an old man.”

  The officer took the megaphone off Richard. “Sir, unless you vacate this property now, we will be forced to enter it and arrest you.”

  On the other side of the door, Stanley shook his head.

  “Sir, I’m asking you one more time. Open the door and step outside.”

  Stanley didn’t move.

  “For god’s sake, get this over and done with before he becomes a martyr,” Sarah muttered, nodding at Cleo, who was filming it all.

  Several police officers moved toward the door.

  “Everybody stand back,” one of them shouted, and June found herself being pulled backward by Mrs. B.

  “Don’t damage my library,” Marjorie shouted from somewhere behind them.

  The officers positioned themselves by the door. “Right, I’ll unlock it and we all push,” one of them said.

  June looked at Stanley through the window. He was standing very tall, his head in the air, staring back at her. He gave her a small nod and she nodded back.

  “Right, three, two, one . . . go!”

  There was a sudden surge by the door as the police pushed forward. June waited for the crash as the doors flew open, but to her amazement the old trolley held its own and was still standing, blocking the door.

  “Come on, push harder,” an officer shouted, and there was a grunt as they increased their exertion. The trolley swayed and June willed it to remain upright, but the force was too much. It gave a final, belligerent wobble, then crashed onto its side. The doors swung open and within seconds the police were inside the library and surrounding Stanley. One of them stepped toward him and pulled Stanley’s arms behind his back with what looked like a lot of force. June let out a cry as she lost sight of him in the mass of bodies. For a few moments she could only see the backs of police officers, and then Stanley emerged again, an officer holding him on either side, his hands in cuffs.

  “Save Chalcot Library!” he shouted as Cleo rushed forward with her camera. “This library is a lifeline to hundreds of people.”

  “Get him in the van,” one of the officers said.

  “Don’t let the government destroy our libraries!” Stanley shouted even louder as they bundled him through the crowd.

  “Go, Stanley!” Mrs. B called, punching the air. “Down with library cuts!”

  The two officers on either side of Stanley half lifted, half pushed him into the van, and the back doors slammed shut as it pulled away. June watched it speed down the Parade. Everything had gone very quiet.

  “Let’s get this library secured,” Richard said, and two men in overalls stepped forward with a tool kit.

  “What will happen to the library now?” June said, but Richard ignored her.

  “Bloody hell,” Mrs. B said as the police van disappeared round the corner. “Yet again Stanley Phelps surprises us all.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  The nearest police station was in New Cowley. It was a half-hour bus journey, which June spent imagining Stanley trapped in a small cell, surrounded by hardened criminals. He’d be dragged into an interrogation room, where a handsome but bad-tempered officer would interrogate him, slamming his fist on the desk and knocking over a cup of water. Stanley would refuse to give up the names or details of his fellow protesters, enraging the officer until he stood up and shouted—

  “Next stop is New Cowley town center.”

  June jumped off the bus and hurried across the road to the police station. There was no one in the waiting room, just a few blue plastic chairs and a large hatch in the wall, behind which sat a middle-aged police officer reading a Dan Brown book.

  June approached the window. “Excuse me?”

  The officer didn’t look up from his book. “Yes?”

  “I’m here to see Stanley Phelps.”

  “Your name?”

  “June Jones. Can I see him, please?”

  He glanced up at her. “Are you his solicitor?”

  “No. I’m his friend.”

  “Only solicitors are allowed to see people in custody.”

  “Has he got a solicitor?”

  “I’m afraid I’m not at liberty to discuss this with you.”

  June read his name badge and gave her most charming smile. “Please, Officer Riley. He’s an elderly gentleman and he has no family here. I just want to make sure he’s okay.”

  Officer Riley stared back at her, unsmiling. “As I said, only solicitors are allowed to visit a client in custody.” His eyes returned to the dog-eared book.

  June stood there for a moment, but when it was clear that he’d finished with her, she took a seat on one of the chairs. Would Stanley have a solicitor? And if he did, would they be good enough to stop him from being charged?

  A thought occurred to June, and she reached into her pocket for her mobile phone, only to realize she didn’t have it on her. In the chaos of the eviction she must have left it in the library. She walked back to the hatch.

  “Excuse me?”

  Officer Riley raised his eyes grudgingly from the page. “Yes?”

  “Could I please borrow your phone?”

  “I’m afraid that’s not possible.”

  “But d
on’t people get one phone call at times like this?”

  “That’s people who’ve been arrested, not members of the public.”

  June could tell he wasn’t going to budge, but then a door opened behind him and another police officer walked in. He caught sight of June through the hatch. “Aren’t you a librarian at Chalcot Library?”

  “I’m the library assistant,” she said.

  “I take my kids there sometimes. My daughter loves those Dr. Seuss books. I was just there for the eviction.”

  “That’s why I’m here actually, Officer . . . ?”

  “Inspector Parks.”

  “My friend from the protest has been arrested.”

  “Mr. Phelps? I’ve been interviewing him.”

  “Is he okay? I’m trying to sort out some help for him. I was asking your nice colleague here if he could find me a phone number and let me use the phone so I could make a quick call.”

  “Course we can. Help this young lady, Riley.”

  The officer scowled at being bossed around in front of her. “What number do you want?”

  “The Golden Dragon, please, in Chalcot.”

  Both police officers looked at June in surprise.

  “You want a number for a Chinese takeaway?” Parks said.

  “Yes.”

  “You’re going to order food? Now?”

  The two men exchanged glances, and Parks reached for his mobile phone and searched for the number before writing it down and handing the piece of paper to June. She typed the number into the phone on the desk, her hands shaking. They were both still watching her. June heard the ringing on the line and held her breath, praying someone would answer.

  “You know, I’m a bit peckish,” Officer Riley said. “If you’re ordering, I wouldn’t mind some spring rolls.”

  “Sh,” June said.

  “Hello, Golden Dragon.”

  “George, it’s me, June.”

  George let out a grunt. “Your usual?”