“June, you’re here!”
“I’m sorry to disturb you all.”
“Don’t be silly. It’s lovely to see you,” Clare said, standing up and pulling June into a hug. She had a large bump under her T-shirt, which June assumed must be child number four on the way. “I hope you’re staying for lunch. Mum has done far too much, as usual. You’d think there were fifty of us from the amount she cooks.”
No sooner had she said it than Linda marched in through the door, declaring that lunch was served, and June was caught up in the bustle of the family charging toward the dining table. She found herself being steered into a seat between Linda and Jackson.
“Wine?” Linda said, pouring her a glass before she could respond.
In the middle of the table sat the biggest joint of roast beef June had ever seen, surrounded by dishes containing all the accompaniments. People started piling food onto their plates, all the while talking over one another. June’s plate was soon overflowing, and she allowed the clamor of conversation to wash over her as she ate. Across the table, Martin and the eldest grandson were swapping rude jokes, and June laughed as she heard snippets of the punch lines. To her right, Linda was having an intense conversation with Clare about the boys’ primary school.
“It’s shocking,” Clare was saying. “The school is so underfunded they can’t even afford stationery for all the kids. We got a letter at the end of last term asking parents to donate pens and notepads. Can you believe it?”
“Outrageous,” Linda said.
“All those MPs with their big salaries and private school educations, and yet state schools don’t have enough money to teach kids properly. Honestly, I’m so angry I’m thinking of writing a letter to my MP.”
“You should do a protest like June,” Jackson said. “She’s an expert now.”
“Really?” Clare turned to June, a look of surprise on her face.
“Well, I’m not exactly an expert,” June said.
“Oh yes, she organized an occupation of our library because the council wants to close it,” Linda said. “They got in the papers and on the TV. Chalcot Library is famous.”
“Wow, that’s amazing,” said Martin, who had stopped telling jokes to listen. “What was the occupation like? Did you sleep there?”
“Yes, for three nights. The council evicted us yesterday.”
“Good on you, girl,” Clare said. “That takes proper guts.”
June smiled at the compliment.
“What will happen now?” asked Martin. “Will you carry on protesting?”
“Of course—we have to. The council is doing a consultation, which ends in four weeks’ time. We need to make sure the library is as busy as possible so our visitor numbers are high. And we need to keep campaigning so we don’t let the pressure off the council.”
June realized that everyone had stopped talking to listen to her. She was amazed by the vehemence of her own words and by the admiring looks the family were giving her.
“Listen to you talk. I hardly recognize you,” Linda said, beaming at her.
“To June!” Clare said, and there was a roar of boisterous toasting around the table.
* * *
• • •
On Tuesday morning, June left the house with butterflies circling in her stomach. For all her bravado on Saturday, she was terrified about what she’d find when she turned up at the library today. Marjorie would be furious with her, of course, and no doubt there would be trouble from the council. But she’d get to see Stanley and the other members of FOCL again, and they could make a plan for the last leg of the campaign. She’d been thinking about it all weekend and had several ideas about how they could keep the momentum going.
June was rounding the corner onto the Parade when she saw Vera standing outside the post office.
“Morning, Vera. How are you?”
“Mustn’t grumble. Although my hip is—”
“I’m sorry, I’d love to chat, but I have to get to work.”
“What’s going on there today?” Vera said.
“Marjorie’s due to host a Techie Tea this morning. Do you want to join?”
“No, I mean now—there’s a group of people outside. That man from the council is there.”
“You mean, Richard Donnelly?”
“The one who’s an oily wan—”
“I’ve got to go. Sorry, Vera.”
June turned and hurried toward the library. As she approached, she could see Donnelly outside, talking to a man and woman.
“What’s going on?” she said when she reached them.
“Good morning, Miss Jones,” Richard said. “I was wondering if you’d turn up. Did you receive our e-mail?”
“No, I left my phone here. What’s going on?”
“I think we’re all done,” Richard said to the other two, who nodded and walked away. He turned to June. “The council has decided to conduct a full inquiry into the events of last week, including the involvement of a council employee in the occupation and subsequent damage to the library. Until the inquiry is finished, you are to be relieved of all duties at Chalcot Library.”
“What?”
“You’re suspended. On full pay, of course, until the council have clarified your role in the matter and decided if any further action needs to be taken.”
“Hang on—what do you mean, damage?”
Richard looked down at his clipboard. “For a start, there was damage to the paintwork in the main room . . .”
“We only hung those posters up for a few days.”
“Chips to the tables . . .”
“Those tables are at least twenty years old.”
“Stains on the carpet . . .”
Damn, the coffee. “But I scrubbed that myself.”
“Our surveyors have been around and say that we’ll need to replace the whole carpet.”
“That’s rubbish. It was one tiny mark.”
“I’m not going to stand here arguing with you, Miss Jones. The council has made their decision, which you would know if you’d bothered to read the e-mail. Until the inquiry is finished, you are not to enter the library for work or personal reasons.”
“This is crazy. There wasn’t any damage to the library—we made the place look better. And who will cover for me while I’m suspended?”
“We’re bringing someone in from Central to assist Marjorie. Unfortunately, the council doesn’t have the resources to fully cover you, so the library opening hours will have to be reduced.”
“No! You can’t, please. If the library hours are cut, then our visitor numbers will go down and that will affect the consultation.”
Richard shrugged. “The decision is out of my hands, Miss Jones.”
There was something about the way he said her name that made June’s skin crawl. “This is deliberate, isn’t it? You want to make it look like the library is failing because you want to close it. Are you in on this Cuppa Coffee deal too?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Richard said. “And I suggest you stop making such wild accusations. Your irresponsible behavior has done enough damage to this library already.” He turned and started walking toward the library.
“My phone is in there,” June called after him. “Can I at least collect it?”
Richard sighed. “All right. But wait in the entrance while I find it.”
Inside the library, everything looked exactly as June had left it on Friday, yet something was different. It wasn’t the fact that the blinds were no longer brown with dust, or the faint smell of fresh paint mixed in with the familiar scents of wood and paper. And it certainly wasn’t the tiny coffee stain on the carpet, no bigger than a paperback. No, it was something about the sound of the library; the silence felt different somehow. June might have been wrong, but it felt like the stories h
ad stopped whispering to one another.
“Here you go.” Richard walked out of the office and handed June her phone.
She stared at it, unsure what to do next. “Do you have to do this? Please, can’t you keep the library’s normal hours until the consultation ends?”
Richard looked at her for a moment. “What did you think would happen? That you could humiliate the council on the news and we’d just let you get away with it?”
“If you’re angry at me, then go ahead and sack me. But please, don’t punish the whole community because of something I did.”
He let out a dry laugh. “Perhaps you should have thought about that before you pulled your little stunt. You have no one to blame but yourself for the library hours being cut.”
“Please, Richard. I’m begging you.”
“I suggest you leave the premises now. You’re breaking the terms of your suspension and I’ll have to call the police.”
June took one last glance around the library. She felt her eyes start to well up, so she turned and ran out the door.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
June spent the rest of the week hiding at home. She couldn’t sleep and had no appetite. She tried reading Sense and Sensibility, but not even Elinor Dashwood and Edward Ferrars could cheer her up. Richard’s words ran through her mind on an agonizing loop. Did you think we’d let you get away with humiliating the council? You have no one to blame but yourself for the library hours being cut.
June paced the house like a caged animal. If only she’d followed Marjorie’s advice and stayed out of the protests, allowed others to fight for the library instead of getting involved. Why had she ever thought she could help, when in fact she’d just made everything worse? And then there were the FOCL members—would they blame June when they found out the library hours had been reduced because of her suspension?
But mostly she thought of Stanley, alone in that small, dark trailer. She now understood why he spent all day in the library, especially in the colder months. How would he survive the next winter without the library? All these thoughts invaded every waking minute and would only stop when June drank so much wine she passed out.
On Friday morning, when she’d run out of alcohol and eaten the last item of food in the freezer, June pulled on a pair of trainers and left the house. As she reached the village green, she saw Stanley sitting on a bench by the pond, engrossed in a book. June didn’t want to bother him, but as she walked past, he looked up and waved her over.
“June! Do join me.” He indicated the bench next to him and June sat down. “Have you read this?” he said, showing her the cover of his book. It was a library copy of The House at Pooh Corner. “It was Mark’s favorite when he was small. I must have read it to him dozens of times.”
“It was one of my favorites too,” June said.
He returned to reading, and the silence between them grew until June couldn’t bear it any longer. “Stanley, I’m so sorry.”
“What for?” he asked, his eyes still on the page.
“For everything.”
“I don’t follow.”
June took a long breath. Maybe Stanley hadn’t worked it out, but she had to be honest with him. “It’s my fault that the library hours have been reduced; the council have done it to punish me for joining the occupation. Now visitor and issue numbers will be down, and they’ll have the perfect excuse to close the library.”
When she finished speaking, she looked across to see Stanley watching her with a strange expression. “Have you been hiding under a rock all week?”
“I’ve been at home.”
“So, you really have no idea what’s been going on?”
June stared at him. “What are you talking about?”
“Oh, my dear, you’ve inspired a revolution,” Stanley said, his face breaking into a smile.
“What?”
“I can’t believe you don’t know. Once word got out that you’d been suspended, the village was up in arms. People started coming into the library furious about it and demanding to know how they could help.”
June felt the color returning to her cheeks.
“Then I remembered what Matilda—I mean, you—had said about getting people to take out as many library books as possible,” Stanley continued. “So that’s what we’ve started asking people to do. I wish you could see it; everyone has borrowed the maximum number on their card.” He brandished the book in his hand as evidence of his own borrowing. “Even people who haven’t used the library in years are taking out books. Marjorie can’t keep up with the demand and the shelves are half-empty.”
June was still too stunned to speak.
“It’s all because of you, my dear. People are furious that the council would suspend you after everything you’ve done for the library and this community.”
“I can’t believe it.”
“There’s no way the council can claim we’re a failing library now. Why, this week Chalcot must be the best-performing library in the whole county!”
“Stanley, this is amazing.”
“We’re all going to go to the council meeting on the twenty-fourth, when they’ll make their decision. It’s our final battle against the giants,” Stanley said with glee. “You must come too, June dear. We’ll need you there.”
“Of course I will.” June allowed herself to smile for the first time in days. “We can do this, Stanley. I know we can.”
* * *
• • •
June returned home with her shopping, still grinning at the news. She found her old copy of The House at Pooh Corner on her bedroom bookshelf and took it out into the overgrown garden. She was reading the last chapter when she heard her front doorbell ring. June assumed it must be Linda, who’d been finding tenuous excuses to come round and check up on her all week, but when she opened the door she found Alex standing on the step.
“You’ve not been answering my texts,” he said. “Are you okay?”
“I’m sorry, I’ve been holed up here.”
“I’ve brought you some food,” he said, lifting the bag he was carrying. “Your usual plus some extras.”
“Thank you. Come in.” As June led him into the kitchen, she was acutely aware of the tired decor and her mum’s old ornaments on every surface. “Sorry, I need to give this place a repaint.”
“Well, hello, little fellow.”
June turned around to see Alex bending down to pet Alan Bennett, who was lying in his basket.
“Oh, I wouldn’t do that . . .” she started, but it was too late—Alan snarled and lashed out with his paw, connecting with Alex’s hand.
“Ouch,” he said, recoiling. “Bloody hell, your cat is vicious.”
“I’m sorry, Alan’s a little antisocial. He adored Mum but he’s always hated me.”
“I’ve never heard of a cat hating someone before.”
“I kept thinking he’d warm to me after Mum died and it was just the two of us. But it’s been eight years now and he’s still a miserable bugger.”
Alex laughed and began unloading cartons onto the table. “I’ve decided it’s time you expanded your repertoire. My dad’s family come from the Sichuan Province, so that’s his specialty.” He opened a container. “This is fish-fragrant aubergine.”
“Fish-fragrant?”
“And these are green beans with pork and chili, one of my favorites.”
June fetched a plate and sat down as Alex spooned some aubergine onto it. She ate a mouthful. “Wow, that’s delicious.”
“See, what did I tell you?” Alex said with satisfaction. “Now try the hot-and-numbing beef, but only if you can handle spicy food. My dad always says chili is a natural antidepressant . . .” He paused, looking uncomfortable. “Not that I’m suggesting you’re depressed, but I heard about you getting suspended. Why didn’t you call me?”
“Sorry. I’ve been here all week, thinking everyone must blame me.”
“God no, quite the opposite.”
“Stanley told me about people borrowing books.”
“I’ve never seen the library so busy. I’ve taken twelve books out on my card, although without you there to advise me I panicked and took out the most random selection. I even came home with a Julia Quinn novel.”
June chuckled. “I’m so glad people are doing this. If we have high visitor and issue numbers it’ll make it much harder for the council to close us down.”
“I wish it were that simple,” Alex said.
“What do you mean?”
“Well, there’s still the whole Cuppa Coffee issue.”
“But how will the council justify closing the library if it’s clearly well used?”
“They could find a way,” Alex said. “After all, this whole consultation has been about the council trying to save money, not how popular the library is.”
June felt all the positivity of this afternoon fading away. “I just wish we knew what Brian and Marjorie are up to with Cuppa Coffee.”
“Do you think it’s time for you to confront Marjorie about it directly?”
June shook her head. “There’s no way she’d tell me anything—she must hate me after the occupation. Besides, I’m banned from the library and it’s not as if I can just turn up at her house.”
“I’d offer to help, but I’m not sure what I can do either,” Alex said.
June took another a mouthful of the beans. “Oh my god, Gayle’s wedding!” she said, almost choking on her food.
“You’re not going to that, are you?”
“It might be my only chance to talk to Brian and Marjorie.”
Alex looked skeptical. “They’re hardly going to confess everything at their daughter’s wedding.”
“No, but Marjorie has told me repeatedly that they’ve invited the great and the good of Dunningshire. If I go in the evening, once people have had a few drinks, maybe someone will let something slip about Cuppa Coffee?” Even as she said it, June knew it sounded ridiculous.
The Last Chance Library Page 18
