* * *
Trev left once the hour was up, earnestly clutching his new workbook, and I started packing up my bag, becoming aware of Irene, sturdy shoes planted two feet apart, hands on hips, berating someone just out of sight in the adult fiction section.
‘The library is closing in ten minutes; you must return your book now and be on your way.’
‘Please let me stay for the ten minutes!’ a child’s voice replied, carrying a faint Liverpool twang. ‘The Ringwraiths have found Frodo and I have to know what happens! I’ll just read for another eight minutes, then put it away. Six! Five, even!’
‘The library is not designed forchildren’ – Irene shuddered as though the very thought disgusted her – ‘to be loitering about, blocking people’s way and preventing me from closing on time.’
‘There’s hardly anyone else here!’
I had a quick scan of the library. There was only the three of us, which wasn’t surprising given the warmth of Irene’s welcome.
She made a show of checking her watch. ‘Nine minutes. Come along.’
‘You can’t do this!’ the child begged. ‘All I’m asking for is the chance to read three more pages. Otherwise I’ll have to wait the whole weekend to find out what happens.’
Irene bristled. ‘If you want to find out what happens then you must check the book out. That’s how a library works.’
‘Fine! Please can I check out this book?’ The child sounded unnecessarily angry, given that this was surely a reasonable solution.
Irene clonked back to the reception desk. ‘No, you may not.’ She glared. ‘That is an adult book, and as we’ve discussed many times before, you have a children’s library card. Three minutes until the library is closing. Unless you want to have yourchildren’slibrary card confiscated, please return your book to the correct location on the shelf and leave the premises.’
‘What about her?’ The child, who I could now see was a girl, stomped out from behind the bookshelf and pointed at me. ‘You aren’t orderingherto leave. This library is completely ageist and discriminatory and anti-children!’
‘I’m sure Ms Tennyson has no intention of abusing the library rules and regulations.’
The girl gave a defiant toss of her ponytail, slamming the copy ofThe Fellowship of the Ringon the counter, her library card quickly joining it. As she flounced out the door, she yelled, ‘You can confiscate my stupidchildren’s cardall you want! I’ve already read every single book in the children’s section –twice!’
It was the hair toss that caused me to recognise her. I made a quick decision, and pointed to the clock on the wall behind Irene. ‘Your watch must be fast. That says five minutes until closing time.’
As she automatically turned to look, I swiped the library card from the counter, slipping it into my pocket. ‘I’m going to check out a couple of books before I go.’
I went straight to the fiction section and hurriedly grabbed two novels. Ignoring Irene vibrating with suppressed rage, I swiped my card in the self-service machine and used it to check out the books, alongside the one that the girl had left behind. I gave a cheery wave as I left, doing my utmost not to flinch when she slammed the door behind me.
* * *
The bike propped up against the cottage wall explained why I’d not managed to catch up with my neighbour, despite hurrying through the May sunshine all the way back to Hatherstone Lane. I ignored the pull of an ice-cool drink in the shade of next-door’s cherry tree, and knocked on next-door-but-one’s door.
After a long wait, and another, firmer, couple of knocks, the door swung half an inch open and a suspicious eye peered through the gap.
‘Hi!’ I smiled brightly. ‘I’m Ollie. I’ve just moved into End Cottage.’
The door closed a couple of millimetres.
I quickly lifted up the books and thrust them at the crack.
‘I was in the library earlier. I thought you might like to borrow these.’
‘It’s against library regulations to lend out a book you’ve borrowed to someone else,’ the girl replied, despite being unable to hide the quiver of hope in her voice.
‘Well, I won’t tell if you don’t.’ I lowered my eyebrows conspiratorially. ‘I don’t think that’s an actual rule; I think Irene made it up along with most of the other ones.’
The door opened another centimetre, but not quite far enough to poke a hardback Tolkien through the gap.
‘Trust me, I work in libraries, I know what I’m talking about.’
She grimaced. ‘I don’t want to make her mad. She might ban me again.’
