‘Do you mean he enjoys porn?’ said Carol, her expression as innocent as could be. I do wonder whether that woman is secretly an excellent actress.
March
Chapter Thirty-Four
‘So I’ve started compiling testimonials for the protest about how important the library is,’ I said to the image of Layla on the screen. ‘I’ve already got a few.’ I held them up to show her, the scrawls of handwriting from children to the very elderly. ‘And there’s a lot more that have been sent to me in response to my initial email telling all our users about the cuts. You saw it didn’t you? That email?’
‘Yeah, of course,’ she said, the image of her wobbling slightly as she adjusted the position of her pillows. ‘It was really good. Powerful stuff, Mum.’
I smiled; she knew how to boost my mood, my daughter. ‘Thanks. Anyway, I thought that I’d forward them all to the local MP, who still hasn’t replied with anything other than a standard,thank you for your enquiry. But I thought I could also print them out and add them to the handwritten ones to make a mural in the foyer. If they let me. If we’re still operational by next month I mean.’
She looked concerned. ‘How do you think it’s going so far?’ she said. ‘The whole campaign, I mean, not just the testimonials.’
I pressed my lips together. ‘Uhm – well, the campaign itself is progressing nicely. Shannay made those amazing posters I showed you last week – they’re everywhere now, all the local shops, village noticeboards, schools, church halls, community centres, mosques… And David’s heard back from three of the authors he’s approached. One of them, Hamish McFarlane—’
‘The crime writer?’ Layla looked impressed.
‘The very same. He’s agreed to sign the petition and give an interview to the local papers.’
‘Wow!’
‘I know!’ I paused, ticking off the items on my fingers. ‘And we’ve got the date confirmed for the protest march. I know you can’t be there, don’t worry.’
‘I’m sorry. It’s an all-day tournament,’ she said, referring to her football matches that clashed with the march. ‘End of the season. A shame the march isn’t happening when I’m back for Easter, but I know you don’t want it to coincide with the school holidays.’
‘Yeah, it was mainly that the other library teams were concerned about staff being away. And also, mid-April gives us a bit more time to get organised. The downside, apart from you not being able to be there and Farah also being otherwise engaged with her family bonding weekend in Scunthorpe…’ I shuddered. ‘The therapist suggested it apparently – it’s all sorts of outward bound, orienteering, Duke of Edinburgh type stuff, sounds ghastly. Anyway, the downside is that by having to wait until April we’re already into the new financial year and the cuts will already have been made. But so far, we’ve been able to persuade the council to keep the building open to the usual timetable for that month at least, and all of us have agreed to work for free on the days that we would potentially be having to close early otherwise. It’s not sustainable but it buys us a little more time.’
‘And if they do cut your hours permanently, are you going to look for some more freelance editing?’
‘That’s what your father suggested. I’m not sure. The market is even worse now than it was when I lost my job in October. One of David’s friends said that there were a hundred applicants for a role just doing basic copy for an online magazine a couple of weeks ago. Bloody AI is coming for us all. But yes, I am still looking for the narrative non-fiction, memoir type stuff. That’s fun.’
‘Now’s probably not the moment to discuss second year accommodation then,’ Layla said with a grimace. ‘Given the fact that you’re basically working for free.’
‘Oh, no, that’s okay!’ I tried not to seem too eager. ‘Have you found some people you want to live with in September?’
She looked pleased as she leaned back against her headboard, her hair catching on the upturned corner of one of her wall posters. ‘Maybe,’ she said. ‘Nothing definite but a few of the football girls are looking and asked if I wanted to join up with them?’
‘Ooh wonderful!’ I said before I could stop myself. ‘Which of the football girls? Is it Asmaa and that lot?’
‘It’s notdefinite, Mum,’ she said, her tone warning. ‘But yes, Asmaa and Suri, and probably Liv. And actually, Leon and Karl had asked if I wanted to join them, they’re looking for a shared house too.’
‘Leon and Karl from your flat?’ I said, surprised. ‘Karl of the heavy metal and the dirty plates in the sink?’
‘Well, actually, that wasn’t him,’ she said, lowering her voice. ‘The dirty plates I mean. He’s one of the cleanest and tidiest in the whole place it turns out. The dirty plates were down to—’
‘Let me guess,’ I said. ‘Marianne.’
She nodded. ‘Exactly. She just uses everyone’s stuff and can’t be arsed to wash it up afterwards. In fact, Karl had a word with her about it last week. He was completely reasonable, but it was a lot more effective than my pathetic attempts. He just said, “Oi, Marianne! Stop thieving everyone’s stuff. We’re not all made of money. You owe me a loaf of granary and a box of teabags. And you owe Layla a hell of a lot more than that. It’s always her cupboard you’re ferreting through, pinching whatever you like. See it’s replaced, sharpish.” I was just standing there by the sink, trying not to look like I was listening, and it was all a very jokeytone. I don’t think she was offended. Because it’s Karl, he can get away with it. But anyway, few days later, guess what happened?’
‘What?’ I said, delighted by this turn of events.
‘Two bags of Marks and Spencer’s groceries left on the kitchen counter with a little “For Layla” Post-it stuck to them!’
‘Marks and Spencer!’
‘I know! Lovely cheese, fresh fruit, crisps, cereal… Probably only half of what she’s taken over the past six months but still, nice gesture.’
‘Nice gesture,’ I agreed, seemingly only capable of repeating snippets of my daughter’s phrases. ‘And presumably she’s learned her lesson and won’t be doing it again?’
