by Gil McNeil
‘Do you? Well, that’s good, because I don’t think I’ve got much of a choice about it.’
‘You want to steer well clear of men who are carrying torches for their former lovers. They always end up whining on about them for hours; there’s no future in it.’
‘I didn’t want a future with him, but a few more interludes would have been nice.’
‘It’s just bad luck, darling. Don’t let it put you off.’
‘Please tell me you’re not going to say there are plenty more fish in the sea.’
‘Well, there are. You could try a nice bit of skate next, or chub. Actually, what are chub?’
‘I’ve got no idea. But knowing my luck I’ll get one of those ones that puff up to twice its size and then give you an electric shock.’
She laughs. ‘Well, there’s always old Dovetail to fall back on.’
‘Stop calling him that, Ellen, he’s been really kind.’
‘Yes, and I bet he’d be even kinder if you gave him half a chance. Still, you know best. I know, let us two go to Paris and leave Harry with the boys.’
‘On crutches? He wouldn’t stand a chance. And anyway, I haven’t got the money. I could do you a weekend down here, though, and we can rent movies and eat too much chocolate and watch the boys tying Harry to a tree. How does that sound?’
‘Perfect.’
‘It’s nearly a year now, you know. This time last year Nick was still in Jerusalem.’
‘I know, sweetheart.’
‘It seems much longer than a year, doesn’t it?’
‘Yes, it does. How are the plans for your knit-in shaping up, by the way? Have you decided on your media strategy yet?’
‘Get the boys to watch less cartoons?’
‘If you get the Diva along, I could probably swing it to come down and do a piece.’
‘I’m still not sure she’s up for it. She sounded quite keen when I told her about it, and Max thinks she might do it, it depends on how she feels on the day. She’s very pregnant now.’
‘Well I’ll mention it at the meeting and see what I can do. It’s human interest, isn’t it, and that always works, especially if a megastar might be in the mix. When is it again?’
‘Friday morning.’
‘It might be a laugh. I could interview you if she doesn’t turn up, and then we can go to the pub.’
‘Can’t you interview someone else? Linda would be great; she never stops talking. Or Gran – she’d love it, although it might turn into a piece on the wonders of cruising.’
‘I’ll call you after the meeting, but start practising, just in case.’
Oh God.
I’ve just finished sewing the last heart onto the ribbon when Mark comes in, carrying a large Tupperware box.
‘I’ve got a new recipe I want to try out on you. Can we have a coffee?’
‘Is it cake?’
‘Yes.’
‘You’re on.’
We go upstairs and sit by the fire. The cake turns out to be a dark chocolate one with glossy icing, and something else, only I’m not sure what.
‘This is lovely.’
‘You don’t think the prunes are too much, then?’
‘What prunes?’
‘Great. That’s all I need to know.’
He drinks his coffee, and looks rather nervous.
‘Is something the matter?’
‘Not really. It’s just, well, I’m a bit worried about Connie.’
‘Why?’
‘Well, she’s being quiet, and she’s never quiet. So I wondered if she’d said anything to you? I mean, I know you talk and everything, and I wondered if she’d mentioned anything?’
‘You mean you thought you’d bring a cake round and I’d tell you all our secrets.’
‘Yes.’
‘Not a chance.’
He smiles.
‘Fair enough. But there aren’t any secrets I should be worrying about, are there?’
‘No, sorry, of course not. I was only teasing. I think she just needs a break, that’s all. Honestly.’
‘The trouble is, there’s never a good time with the pub.’
‘I know. That’s what used to happen with me and Nick, there was always something that needed doing, and you just gradually drift apart.’
He seems rather horrified. ‘You don’t think that’s what’s happening to me and Con, do you?’
‘No, sorry. I’ve just been thinking about it a bit, recently. No, I think you’re both fine. Only it’s hard when you’re both so busy.’
He looks at his feet. ‘I was thinking I could book a ticket for her to go over to see her mum for a few days. I think she’d like that, maybe with the kids, at half-term. I thought I’d tell her on the morning of the flight, so it would be a surprise. What do you think?’
‘I think that’s the kind of surprise which works best if you haven’t got to pack for two kids for a week.’
He nods. ‘True, and I don’t think I could afford to go, too, not if it meant closing, so maybe it’s not such a good idea.’
‘Why don’t you get her mum and dad over here then? You could ask them over for half-term or Easter.’
‘That’s a brilliant idea. She’d love that, she really would. And it could still be a surprise, if I went and picked them up at the airport without telling her, couldn’t it?’
‘I’d tell her now if I were you. That way she’ll be able to look forward to it.’
‘Yes, but if I tell her now she’ll want to redecorate the spare bedroom.’
‘But that’s all part of the fun, isn’t it?’
‘I suppose so, unless you can come up with something that doesn’t involve me holding a paintbrush?’
‘Sorry.’
He smiles. ‘I can’t wait to see her face when I tell her.’
‘Well, remember, any time you need a food taster, you know where to come.’
‘Shall I put the rest of this in the kitchen?’
‘No, please. If you leave it here I’ll have eaten the whole thing by lunch time.’
‘Fair enough.’
‘I’ll see you on Friday, then, at the knit-in?’
He sighs. ‘Do I have to?’
‘Reg and Mr Pallfrey are coming.’
‘Yes, but will they be knitting? Connie says I’ve got to be knitting and she’s going to show me how to do it, but I really don’t fancy it, to be honest. It’s a bit too girly for me.’
‘Reg will be knitting – he learned in the army – but Mr Pallfrey’s just going to hold a ball of wool I think.’
‘I can do holding things. I’m really good at holding things. And anyway, she’s not very patient, so I’m not sure how her teaching me will work out. I’ll probably end up looking like a total tosser.’
‘Russell Crowe knits.’
‘Exactly. And before you ask, no, I’m not wearing a bloody toga.’
‘What a brilliant idea. We could do the whole thing in fancy dress. I’ll put you down as a gladiator and tell everyone to dress up.’
‘Christ. Me and my big mouth.’
It’s Friday morning and we’re all standing outside the library with our knitting, ready to storm the barricades. Although actually, we’re rather short on the barricade front, but we have got a rather nervous-looking policeman who Gran knows because he does the Neighbourhood Watch meetings where you’re supposed to call him Mike and tell him about any suspicious incidents. He takes notes, apparently, and there’s a special number you can use if you think you’ve spotted a bogus caller. He’s just told us we’re not allowed to cause an obstruction in the lobby, so we’re standing outside on the pavement in a sort of semi-circle, feeling rather self-conscious, until Angela rather surprisingly takes charge.
‘Do you think we ought to sit down? We could go and get some more chairs, I’ve got two folding picnic ones in my car, and then it would look like more of a demonstration, wouldn’t it? Like those people who lie down in the middle of roads.’
Lind
a’s not convinced.
‘I’m not lying down in the road with my back, Ange, thanks all the same, and anyway it’ll be filthy and I’ve just had this coat dry-cleaned. And you know what some of those bus drivers are like: they’d drive right over you.’
‘Yes, but we don’t have to actually be in the road, we can stay on the pavement. I think it would look more serious than if we’re all standing about chatting.’
Elsie nods. ‘Yes, and we’ve still got nearly an hour to go before the meeting, and that’s quite a long time to be standing up, especially with my legs.’
Twenty minutes later we’ve got a collection of camping stools and picnic chairs and a deckchair, and we’re all sitting knitting and having a fabulous time. Gran and Reg are passing round beakers of tea from the giant thermos flasks they’ve borrowed from the Bowls Club, and Mark and Connie have brought a selection of mini-muffins, which PC Mike is looking at rather longingly, but when we offer him one he says he’d better not because he’ll probably be tucking into a banana muffin just as his sergeant drives past, and it’s not really approved police procedure at public demonstrations. But he puts one in his pocket for later, which as Gran says will be a nice treat for him when he gets back to the station.
Reg hands me a plastic beaker full of tea. ‘No, sugar, that’s right isn’t it, love?’
‘Yes, thanks, Reg.’
‘We should have a song. We always had songs in the war, and it keeps your spirits up if you’re all singing.’
Gran smiles at him. ‘Go on, then, start us off, Reg.’
We’re singing I Do Like to Be Beside the Seaside, and Maggie and Miss Kingsley, the head librarian, are standing watching us from the window, looking delighted, when Lady Denby arrives on a very rickety old bicycle which she leans up against the railings.
PC Mike steps forward. ‘I’m afraid you can’t leave that there, madam.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous. I always put it here when I come to the library.’
He gets his notebook out of his pocket. ‘Can I have your name, madam?’
‘No, you cannot. Absolute cheek.’
PC Mike is looking a bit shaken now, and starts writing something down in his notebook as Angela comes to his rescue.
‘Could we just move it over here, Lady Denby? It’ll be out of the way, and we wouldn’t want to risk it falling on anyone, would we? Oh good, I see you’ve brought your knitting.’
Elsie stands up and offers Lady Denby her seat, and Angela wheels the bike to the railings by the pedestrian crossing.
Reg holds up his thermos. ‘Would you like a cup of tea, Lady Denby? It’s only beakers, I’m afraid.’
‘I would, thank you.’
Gran hands her a yellow plastic beaker.
‘What shall we sing next then, Reg? What about Daisy, Daisy, Give Me Your Answer, Do? Does everyone know that one?’
‘Shouldn’t we be chanting as well? You know, like they do on the telly.’
Tina looks at Linda. ‘What do you mean, chanting?’
‘You know, where they say, What do we want? and When do we want it? Now. That one.’
Everyone thinks this is an excellent idea, and we’re having a practice run when the man from the local paper arrives. I think they must have sent their most junior reporter because he isn’t the same one who did the piece on the shop, and he only looks about fifteen. He’s brought his camera with him though, and nearly gets run over standing in the road trying to fit us all in. Cath helps him get all our names written down, and gives him a muffin, which cheers him up, and then everything suddenly steps up a gear. Ellen arrives with an outside-broadcast van, which half blocks the high street, and Maxine rings to say Grace is on her way, and they’ve told a few people about it so we better brace ourselves for snappers, and then we’re surrounded by young men in jeans and trainers and woolly hats snapping away and shouting things like ‘Over here, darling’ at Gran and Betty, who are thrilled and doing their best smiles.
Lady Denby starts giving an interview to the man from the local paper, dictating to him and making him read back what she’s said about how important local libraries are for the community, and how she likes a good Agatha Christie herself, or historical fiction, and she’s just read a marvellous one about India, only she can’t remember the name, but it had a dog in it, and then a familiar black jeep arrives and Grace gets out and the boys in the woolly hats go into a complete frenzy.
I’m standing with Ellen, watching Elsie and Betty surreptitiously trying to move their chairs a bit closer to the action.
‘This is fabulous. So what’s the plan now, darling?’
‘Plan?’
‘You want her sitting in the middle of you all, otherwise they’ll just run with ones of her and the library won’t get a mention. And then you’ll have to get them to back off for a bit while I do my interview. Yes?’
‘Oh, yes, right.’
I spot Maxine standing by the car, and together we manage to get Grace sitting on Tina’s deckchair with her knitting, which is the perfect shade of lavender cotton to match her dress, and PC Mike starts talking on his radio as the photographers go into overdrive again. Getting Grace back up out of the deckchair turns out to be a bit more of a challenge than I’d anticipated, and with hindsight perhaps it wasn’t the perfect choice of seat for a heavily pregnant megastar, but she copes very well and Tina’s thrilled to have been of assistance. We make our way over to Ellen, but before we get to her Lady Denby nips in for a quick word.
Maxine nudges me. ‘Christ, it’s that mad woman who came round the house. You’ll have to rescue her, I got stuck with her for hours last time. Go on, quick, before she gets going.’
‘I’m terribly sorry, Lady Denby, but we need Grace over here for a moment.’
‘Right you are. Isn’t it all absolutely marvellous? This’ll put a spanner in their pipes.’
We walk towards Ellen, and Maxine steps forward, back in professional mode. ‘Grace, this is Ellen Malone, who’s doing the interview we talked about.’
‘Oh yes, sure.’
Ellen does one of her Big Smiles.
‘It’s lovely to meet you, and thank you so much for agreeing to talk to us.’
Maxine stays standing in front of Grace. ‘No problem. Two minutes, and no questions, right?’
‘Of course. I thought maybe over here?’
Grace stands in front of everyone, and does her piece to camera, looking very beautiful and completely calm, while everyone sits knitting and trying to look determined. I’m standing to one side with Maxine and feeling rather nervous; this would not be a good time for Ellen to ask one of her tricky questions.
‘So, Grace, why are you here today?’
Grace smiles, and looks directly into the camera, which is usually a mistake, but of course with her it’ll be great.
‘Because they’re threatening to close our local library, and I’ve always been passionate about libraries. My mum used to take me every week, and it opened up a whole new world for me. And I want to help make sure that other children have the same chance.’
She pauses for a second or two, and puts her hand on her tummy. ‘Making sure our children have access to as many books as possible, for free: it doesn’t get much better than that, does it, Ellen?’
‘So you’ll be bringing your baby here, when it’s old enough?’
Grace smiles. ‘I’d love to. I’m really looking forward to reading some of my favourite books again, ones my mum used to read to me when I was little, and I’m hoping we can come here and read with the other children. But we won’t be able to if they’ve closed the library, which I’m sure you’ll agree would be a complete tragedy. We need lots more libraries, not less.’
Maxine steps forwards and Ellen nods.
‘Let me just check we got that.’
The cameraman gives her a thumbs-up.
‘Thanks so much, Grace, that was great. And any time you fancy an interview, you know who to call, right?’
‘Sure.’
‘And good luck with the baby.’
‘Thanks.’
‘When’s it due?’
Grace laughs. ‘Yesterday, tomorrow, next month, who knows? Lovely to have met you, Ellen.’ She turns to Maxine and me. ‘Jo, walk with us to the car, would you? Oh, look, here come the enemy.’
Two men in very smart suits are walking towards the library steps, carrying expensive briefcases and looking extremely annoyed.
Cath starts up the ‘What do we want? To save our library’ chant as they go inside, rather quickly. In fact, they almost sprint up the steps.
‘Thanks so much, Grace. You were brilliant.’
‘Happy to help.’
Maxine smiles. ‘We’ve got a statement ready if we get any calls, so just put them on to me if they ask you anything about Grace, yes?’
‘Of course.’
‘And thanks, Jo, this was great. Ed’s really pleased. It’s exactly the kind of thing we want to be doing – local issues and all that. I’ll call you later, and let you know what calls we get, shall I?’
‘Thanks, and I’m sorry about the deckchair.’
Grace smiles, and there’s another flurry from the snappers as she gets back into the car, and a round of applause from everyone sitting knitting and chanting, which goes down very well because she opens the window and waves as the car drives off, and she doesn’t usually do that.
Ellen’s looking very pleased. ‘That was great.’
‘She was brilliant, wasn’t she? I was a bit worried it seemed so short, though.’
‘No, it was fine. She knows exactly what she’s doing, and it was great that she said my name. Very classy. Her skin’s bloody amazing, isn’t it?’
‘I know.’
‘Oh, here we go, they’ve brought in reinforcements. It’s amazing how megastars always bring out the top brass.’
She turns to look at a police car arriving with its blue lights flashing.
‘God, I hope they haven’t come to arrest us.’
‘What for? Knitting in a public place?’
‘No, but they don’t look very happy, do they?’
A rather senior-looking policeman arrives and goes over to talk to PC Mike, while the driver gets out and starts rather unnecessarily directing the traffic.
