‘Hello,’ he said, still waving. ‘My name is Colin. How are you today?’
‘Hi,’ I said. ‘My name’s Hattie. I’m new. And I’m a bit nervous.’
‘Hattie.’ Colin gave an emphatic nod. ‘Hattie. Bit nervous. Right. David said, Hattie Harper is starting today.’ He beamed at me. ‘No need to be nervous! I’ll help you.’ He extended his hand to shake mine, pumping it up and down enthusiastically.
‘Is, uhm, is David here?’ I said, peering between the shelving units to the far reaches of the library. I had been given a brief tour following my interview but needed a refresh as to the various zones.
‘Yes.’ Colin nodded. ‘He is.’
‘Good. Right. Is there anywhere I can put my coat?’
Colin looked doubtfully at my duffle. ‘It’s wet,’ he said.
‘It is. Could I hang it in the office do you think?’
‘Yes,’ he said, pointing between the stacks. ‘It’s down there with the kettle and the biscuits.’
‘That sounds promising.’
Colin laughed. ‘Promising,’ he said. ‘Some of my friends are coming this afternoon. Friends from where I live.’
‘That’s nice. Where do you live?’ I started to shrug off my coat.
‘I live in the Mackenzie housing association,’ he said. ‘It’s an assisted living facility for adults with awhole rangeof complex needs.’ He opened his arms wide to indicate the range. ‘It’s for people who can live independently but sometimes need a bit of help. I have a garden. My friends come on the Mackenzie bus. Our driver is called Derek. Sometimes Julie.’
I wondered whether Derek and Julie were two separate people or whether the driver of the Mackenzie bus changed their name depending on how they were feeling at the time. Each to their own, after all.
‘Well, I’m looking forward to meeting them,’ I said. ‘I’m going to go and hang up my things and maybe put the kettle on before we open up.’
‘It will be two minutes,’ said Colin glancing up at the large clock above the desk. ‘Nine o’clock is in two minutes, which is a hundred and twenty seconds.’
‘I’ll be super quick.’ I flung my damp coat over my arm and turned to head in the direction Colin had pointed. ‘And I’ll try and find David.’
‘Nineteen forty-five,’ said Colin in an urgent semi-whisper.
I stopped walking. ‘Sorry?’
‘Nineteen forty-five. It’s the code. It’s from the war.’
I processed this. ‘Ah! For the office?’
He beamed again. ‘Right the first time!’ he said. ‘Hattie Harper wins the prize.’
‘I think I’m going to like working with you, Colin,’ I said.
The office was located at the back of the library, its entrance hidden in a corner between a deeply recessed window and a wall-fixed display cabinet featuring archive documents and photos of the building that looked to be from the early twentieth century. Not that I can fully get my head around the fact that the twentieth century now seems to be considered practically on a par with the ancient days of yore. There’s nothing quite sosobering as relating a tale of university high-jinks or an anecdote about your first office job and having some whipper-snapper come back at you with, ‘Was that during thelastcentury?’. The door was propped open with one of those sturdy metal chairs you find in the foyer of old secondary schools, low seated and topped with a dralon wipe-clean fabric, so I didn’t need the code after all, and when I squeezed past the chair I found David pouring water from the kettle into a large brown teapot with a chip in its spout.
‘Hattie,’ he said. ‘Glad you made it.’
I wondered just how low the bar was for attendance at work if my making an appearance on my first day in the job was worthy of comment.
‘I did,’ I said. ‘And I’m raring to go!’ It was true. My nerves had completely vanished.
‘You’ve met Colin?’ He took a couple of mugs off the draining board.
‘Yes, he was very friendly and very helpful. He said we’re opening in two minutes.’ I looked at my watch. ‘One minute.’
‘He gets a bit obsessive about the time,’ said David, pointing to one of the mugs. ‘Tea?’
