by M W Foolster
Leroy looking perplexed.
"Like, what do you mean Miss?"
"The computers, the facilities and the staff, are they to your satisfaction?"
Leroy the first to answer,
"Yer, I guess. But the PCs could be faster mind, and I think it is like real bad that we can't play games on them. Ohh, and that we can't like bring food in to eat when doing our work on them."
Jason starts to grow anxious on catching the mischievous look Leroy flashes at his brother, who continues with the answer to her question.
"And since the staff are dressed like waiters an’ waitresses shouldn't they like be serving us with food, an’ drinks anyways? Could maybe have a vending machine with like hot food, and snacks. I mean at our age we need a continuous supply of nutrition to keep our brains functioning properly. And it ain’t like we can study all the time so maybe a large screen TV, ohh, and a games console. We been told we need lots of R&R time in between study sessions."
Lewis butts in, "And a fish tank."
Ms Scrawl looking a little flustered,
"A fish tank?"
"Yer, Miss, it is like therapeutic right, an’ they use them in hospital wards an’ all sorts now. Ain’t that right, Leroy?"
Leroy nods enthusiastically,
"He is right, Miss. Could like fill it with piranha, an’ maybe have school field visits to feed them with fresh meat an’ stuff. Be like real educational. And...”
"Yes, quite. Excellent to see you boys revising. Shall we continue, Mr Sinclair?"
Jason looks up from the boys to see that Ms Scrawl is already striding purposefully towards the stairwell leading down to the reference library, and public IT Suite. Jason rushes after her, still smiling to himself at having caught sight of the two boys high-fiving each other. Running her hand down the banister, Ms Scrawl inspects it at the bottom, a few very audible tuts at seeing the thin layer of dust on her fingers.
"This just isn't good enough, Mr Sinclair. Standards really must be maintained."
Thrusting her fingers beneath his nose.
"Now this really does fall short of the standards that one would expect. And did my eyes detect a totally inappropriate nail varnish colour being worn by Miss Campbell? Simply unacceptable, Mr Sinclair."
"I will speak to her, Ms Scrawl."
"As I would expect, Mr Sinclair, and I would strongly suggest issuing a first formal warning to both her, and Miss Cheung. Might I also suggest a further training session in your next staff meeting covering acceptable standards of staff behaviour, appearance being of the upmost importance. I did not spend hours of my time painstakingly producing a comprehensive set of directives, only to discover that they are not being adhered to."
"But they both have exemplary records, Miss Scrawl. I will definitely speak to them but surely a formal warning isn't necessary, if anybody should be reprimanded, it is me."
A cold, grey eye bores into him, the faintest twitch of a smile on her thin lips.
"How commendable. And I am in total agreement, Mr Sinclair. Consider yourself formally warned and please note, you will be held accountable as to the future conduct of the staff under your management."
Jason is left speechless as the realisation dawns on him that she has manipulated him into a corner.
"Well, Mr Sinclair? Does that meet with your approval?"
Blood pressure rising and biting his tongue, Jason can barely manage a nod of acknowledgement.
"I will personally ensure that you receive the written confirmation of this warning within the statutory 24 hours, as stipulated in Borrington Council's Employee policy. As is your right of appeal. But considering the implications if you should choose to make an appeal, I am assuming that is not an option you will be contemplating."
"Implications being Tammy and Jazz."
"Exactly, Mr Sinclair. Taking that into account, the warning is acceptable to you?"
"It will have to be, Miss Scrawl."
"Yes, Mr Sinclair, it will. And do tell as to the reasoning behind your newly acquired facial hair?"
"It does adhere to the guidelines you've stipulated, Ms Scrawl."
"Indeed it does, Mr Sinclair."
Into the Reading room. Jason horrified to find several customers arguing over the newspapers, or at least, the lack of them. Miss Scrawl heads directly towards the affray.
“Ms Scrawl, Head of Libraries, now what appears to be the problem gentlemen?”
Now stood directly in front of old Jim, her hand immediately goes to her nose, and Jason can see why, Jim is wearing his fur coat. Well actually it’s a woollen overcoat but having the eight dogs in the house has led to it both resembling, and smelling of damp Golden Retriever. With a scowl on his face, old Jim snaps at her.
“The bloody problem is, there aint no sodding papers again. Been late all sodding week. An’ it just ain’t good enough. Will have you know, luv, that I have been coming in here for bloody years, an ain’t never had this problem before. ”
A chorus of discontented mumblings from the other customers now loitering around the empty wooden tables.
“Mr Sinclair, would you care to explain as to why there has been no newspaper delivery?”
Jason indicates with a nod of his head that she may wish to hear his answer in private, but no.
“Please do tell, Mr Sinclair,” Ms Scrawl gestures towards her customers. “We pride ourselves on the service we offer to our customers and they are entitled to an explanation.”
“Yes, Ms Scrawl, I’m sure that they would. Unfortunately, the previous newspaper supplier who’d served us so reliably for several decades had his contract terminated by the libraries. The recently appointed new supplier is located out near Chessington and now has to deliver to all six of the Borrington libraries. Traffic delays, and other issues have, inevitably, led to late deliveries.”
Jim and the others are anything but appeased.
“Whose bloody bright idea was that, then?”
Jason looks towards Ms Scrawl.
“Well, there is your explanation gentlemen. A few initial teething problems with the new supplier, but rest assured, normal service will be resumed in the very near future.”
As if on cue, a sweaty young male appears at the doorway to the Reading room, huffing his way across towards them with an arm full of newspapers. Robbie quickly gets to work on stamping them and circulating them amongst the still disgruntled customers.
Having now lost interest in Jim and company, she strolls towards the public computers at the far end of the Reference library. Her attention firmly fixed upon the suited male hovering by the Public PC booking booth.
“Ms Scrawl, Head of Libraries, can I be of assistance, Sir?.”
Geoffrey, dressed in his customary shiny grey suit, grey hair swept back, stares at her with a blank expression. Jason thinking that this could be interesting. Now making his apologies to Ms Scrawl, having been conveniently summoned across by Robbie, Jason slowly walks away. But still makes a point of listening into the conversation.
“Need a computer.”
“Yes, of course Sir. Have you used our automated booking system previously?”
“Need a computer.”
“Yes, yes. I will show you how to book one. Do you have your library card?”
Geoffrey empties his pockets, pieces of paper and sweet wrappings soon fill up the desk housing the booking kiosk but finally, he places the tatty yellow library card into a now reluctant hand. She provides a quick demonstration of how to access the correct screen before informing Geoffrey that he’ll need to enter his password.
“Need a computer.”
“Yes, but to book one, you need to enter your password. Perhaps you should try your surname.”
“Geoffrey.”
“Is that not your first name?”
“Is it?”
“Well, yes, according to your library card. And your surname is?”
“Geoffrey.”
“Sorry? Am I correct in assuming that yo
u are, Geoffrey Geoffrey?”
“Am I?”
“Yes. Surely you know your own name? Is this your card?”
“I don’t know. Is it? Need a computer.”
“Excuse me, Sir, but are you Geoffrey?”
“Yes, Geoffrey. Need a computer. Do you eat oysters?”
“Excuse me?”
“Oysters. They make your penis hard. Need a computer.”
A few audible sniggers from customers flicking through the daily papers.
“Do you think cunnilingus helps with stress?”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Geoffrey needs a computer.”
Jason and Robbie, carefully concealed behind a large shelving unit, both bite their lips in an attempt not to burst into laughter. A shrill voice suddenly pierces the silence,
“Mr Sinclair, if you wouldn’t mind?”
“Do you like oysters?”
“No, Mr Geoffrey, I do not. Mr Sinclair, if you would be so kind, your assistance is required.”
“Does Mr Geoffrey like oysters? Need a computer.”
Miss Scrawl is now walking swiftly towards the doors exiting the room, her eye darting in all directions in an attempt to locate a still hidden Jason. Geoffrey following on behind, his eyes seemingly fixated on her posterior.
Jason and Robbie stealthily work their way along behind the shelving units towards the staffroom, but freeze momentarily on hearing a distant shriek drifting down from the stairwell.
“NO, Mr Geoffrey, I do not. Now would you please stop following me?”
The pair of them barely make it in through the staffroom door before doubling up with hysterical laughter.
Having taken fifteen minutes to compose himself, Jason is now sat at the Reception desk, offering to relieve a very amused Jessica for a tea break. Tammy can barely keep a straight face as she informs him that a somewhat perturbed Ms Scrawl had departed the building rather hastily, having suddenly remembered that she has an urgent appointment at Caulston library. Unfortunately for her, Geoffrey followed Ms Scrawl from the building to the bus stop and was last seen getting on the same bus heading for Caulston. Having checked that Caulston library had been informed of the impending mystery visit, Jason gets to work on inputting the statistics for Borrington Central library. For all of ten minutes at any rate.
“Jay?”
Looks up to find Susie looming over him, totally unrecognisable to the onesie clad student who’d ironed his shirt earlier. Instead, he finds himself staring up at a mongoose, the pattern on her woolly jumper clearly visible beneath the leather jacket. Boots tucked into her jeans, decorative silver studs in her nostril and top lip, her big blue eyes giving him the impression that she’s definitely after something.
“Susie, what brings you here?”
“Well, it’s like this Jay. Have you changed your password?
“Susie?”
“But I need some more books for my course.”
“Like last time? Hmmmm?”
Thinks back to her pleading for him to allow her access to his online account a few months back, supposedly to order Uni books. She had in fact been buying small cardboard boxes, a bulk supply of blank postcards, and a quite ridiculous amount of budget underwear. Had kept him waiting nearly two months to pay him and she still hasn’t provided any explanation.
“No, I swear this is different. That was for a business venture. Pretty please? Will clean your flat for you.”
“I tell you what. Give me a list of the books you need and I will order them for you. Fair?”
He is met by a grumpy expression and a shrug of shoulders.
“How much can you spend?”
“Well, that’s just it, Jay. My Uni grant won’t come through for another few weeks yet. So...”
“Let’s say I order them, you clean the flat as promised and pay me back when your grant comes through.”
“Be easier to just tell me the password…”
“Deal?”
“I suppose. Reminds me, Ivan’s shed has gone.”
“Gone? Gone where?”
“Well, it’s like this. Ivan and his friend left the shed about 9, I think. Just before the police...”
Jason looking perturbed as he interrupts her.
“The police? What did they want?”
“Yer, have been some burglaries in the area, and had like these two creepy coppers turn up asking questions. Anyway, the next thing I know there is all this noise from outside and I looked out to see about ten travellers walking across the garden. They lifted the shed up and just walked off with it.”
“You serious?”
“Straight up. Threw it on to a truck and a few of them drove off with it.”
“Bloody Hell.”
“Ivan will go ballistic, all getting kind of stupid now, ehh? Ohh, and Carlo has invited us all to a party at his tonight. That’s if he has recovered from being mugged.”
“Carlo was mugged?”
“Yer, some drug dealer mugged him. Anyway, be fancy dress so will be really cool. You up for it?”
“Can't, Susie, I will be at the pub. The Halloween dance. Remember?"
“Bugger. Yer, sorry, forgot about that. But if you change your mind, it, like, starts at 9pm and he said to bring a few bottles. And maybe some food. Ohh and your speaker dock. And….”
“Why doesn’t he just throw the party in my bloody flat?”
“What, you reckon? Sure. Can suggest…”
Cuts her off quickly, “I was being sarcastic, Susie. Look, I’ll see what I can do, maybe drop in after the pub. Shouldn’t you be on your way into London by now?”
“Nah, lecture was cancelled. Gonna go get some shopping, you need anything?”
Susie catches sight of Jazz and is gone before he can answer her. Jason is niggled with himself at still not having found an opportunity to talk to Jazz. Will make a point of doing so when she goes for her break. Robbie appears, tugging at his red goatee.
“Jay, I will need to speak to you at some point. Found something really interesting on the Net and if I don’t speak to somebody soon, my brain will implode. Fascinating stuff.”
“Yer, sure. But after lunch ok? That reminds me, can you hold the fort for a few hours? I have a personal matter that requires, well, my urgent attention but should be back by 3pm at the latest. Not as though we’ll have any more visits from Ms Scrawl, and Councillor Fuker isn’t due until 4pm.”
“Sure, no problem. Do you good to get out of here for a few hours, even if it is, hmmm, personal matters," Eyebrow raised inquisitively.
"Okay. But you are sworn to secrecy. Do you remember Selena Trott, a Saturday assistant from about six years back?
"The name sounds familiar, why?
"Met her on the way into work and she invited me out for lunch. Barely recognised her. Beautiful, successful, works as a hospital administrator and, much to my surprise, she said that she used to have a crush on me. Can you believe that?
"Well, to put it frankly Jay, no," he winks at him.
"Thanks Robbie."
"Just messing about, sure it will do you good. You err… Calmed down now?"
"Not really. Scrawl has been gunning for me ever since that first councillors meeting, surprised it has taken her this long to be honest. Probably biding her time, choosing her moment, you should of seen the smarmy look of satisfaction on her face."
"Probably wasn't the most sensible thing to of said at that first meeting, was it Jay?"
Running his hand through his beard, he shrugs his shoulders as he attempts a smile,
"She just knows how to push my buttons. Anyway, wasn't so much a meeting as an inquisition and what would you of said, Robbie? The longest and hottest summer in God knows how many years, her stood opposite me waving an accusatory finger in my face. Implying that it was my fault entirely that visitor numbers had dropped. And I tried to be diplomatic in my response. That with the glorious summer we'd been experiencing, it was to be expected, people making the most of the
weather. But to then be told by her that my reasoning was unacceptable, that I was making excuses and that it was had more to do with my managerial skills than the weather. And to then demand an immediate solution? Well. What would you of said?"
"Not sure I would of suggested flying in a North American medicine man to make it rain. That without him, and some rain, it was impossible to guarantee getting the customers back into the library. And probably wouldn't of had a dig at her by suggesting that failing that, we send the staff out to round up every drunk in the vicinity and invite them into the library for a free beer."
"No, guess not. But in my defence, I did also suggest getting both the air conditioning and the lift repaired. But no, the bloody woman said that that wasn’t an option, just not financially viable for the council at present, what with the new lawn being laid in the Knarlswood library garden."
Jay shakes his head in frustration, after all, what was more important, a new lawn in an unused garden, or their desperately needed air conditioning and a working lift? But it had just confirmed what he already knew, the library was living on borrowed time. Sure, the ‘Save the Library’ campaign had gained momentum and several prominent authors had become actively involved but he suspects that it’s all too little and too late.
"Try not to let it get you down, Jay. Just think of Geoffrey accompanying her all around Borrington.” That, at least, gets Jason smiling. “You want to go grab a drink?”
"Yer, thanks Robbie. And don't tell the others about my official warning from Scrawl, no point in us all stressing over the bloody woman.”
He is about to enter the staffroom when he hears Susie speaking to Jazz, wouldn't normally eavesdrop but can't help himself on this occasion.
“Makes my skin crawl just thinking about it, Susie.”
"I know. You think you know somebody Jazz, but then something like that happens and it makes you realise, well, that you don’t really know them at all.."
"Seems that way. Am still in shock to be honest."
"Yer, me too… I dunno, perhaps men and women can't just be friends."
He hears Jazz let out a loud sigh, before replying,
"Yer, think you’re right. It’s like their brains are in their cocks,"
