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‘We’re fine. It’s just that …’ Her voice peters off and she studies her nails as if she’s questioning whether to speak up.
Alfie steps in. ‘Everyone in town is talking about the library and the possible changes. It’s all over social media too, which I’m not allowed to use becauseit will rot my brain, but Mum is allowed to for some reason – how is that fair? Mum’s worried that if the library becomes a big noisy place what with the campaign to save it, I won’t want to come here anymore. I don’t like big noisy places. And sometimes Mum leaves me here while she runs errands because she works split shifts at the petrol station and she’sas tired as a person ever was.’
‘Alfie, that was a private conversation between you and I,’ she admonishes him but it’s full of love as if she’s just repeating an oft-said phrase knowing Alfie will continue to air their private conversations.
‘Oh, sorry.’
It sounds like this mamma is juggling a lot of balls to keep their little family going. ‘I understand, and it’s a tricky one as we do hope to get more people through the doors to save the library.’ But this is Alfie’s safe space too and we need him to be able to concentrate on his schooling and not feel overwhelmed by others. ‘What about if Alfie had a dedicated space he could use? If it’s too loud he can go into one of the glass-fronted cubicles, shut the door and Maisie and I could keep an eye on him? He could set it up like his own personal schoolroom and that way he wouldn’t have to cart all his things here every day.’
‘That would work,’ Alfie says. ‘I can use my noise-cancelling headphones. Show me this cubicle, so I can check out what it smells like. You might need to get the carpet cleaned in there too.’
‘Alfie!’ his mum says with a laugh.
‘What have I done this time?’ he says, blankly.
‘Follow me, young man, and take your pick of the cubicles.’
Ten minutes later, Alfie’s picked the cubicle next to our office and asks us to move the desk under the window so that he can still be part of the goings-on of the library but in the quiet of his own little sanctuary. ‘I can live with this smell,’ he declares.
‘He’s great,’ I say to Jo as we watch him lay out his pencils neatly in an orderly row.
‘Yeah,’ she says and leans her head against the doorframe. ‘He’s such a lovely kid, but he’s so lonely. I don’t know if home schooling is the right move or not. Am I making it worse by removing him from that school? This is ourthirdmove. We can’t keep going from town to town in the hopes it’ll get better. But the kids, Elodie.’ She shakes her head at the memory. ‘They were so cruel. They mimicked him stimming, made fun of the way he talks and so many horrible things.When I approached the parents for a quiet word they didn’t want a bar of it. How can he thrive in that sort of environment? How can he grow up confident when they try and push him down like that?’
It’s tricky to know what to say when her words are laced with hurt for her little boy. I imagine how powerless she must have felt when being met with a brick wall from parents who should know better and care more. ‘Urgh, Jo, those parents need to take a good hard look at themselves. I can see how hard it’s been for you both. Removing him from that situation seems like the right move to me.’ Alfie happily completes a workbook, neatly filling out each question before reading the next. ‘Look at him now. He’s a funny, confident, amazing little storyteller.’
‘If only people could see what you see, Elodie. He’s desperate for some friends but the last one he made told him to drop his iPad because the cover was indestructible, and Alfie believed him so he did it. It smashed and they all laughed at him. He was so afraid to tell me because he knew how long it took for me to save for it. How could they do that to him?’
‘So you’re super hesitant about him becoming close to any other kids, which is totally understandable. Surely there’s a way we can introduce him to some nice kids here at the library who share the same interests as him.’
Friends.It’s something the library could provide. After all, it’s a meeting place. A place to discuss big ideas, like apex predators and their environment. ‘Let’s put our thinking caps on and see how we can make that happen for Alfie, eh?’
‘You really are a miracle worker, aren’t you?’
I grin. ‘Well so far I’ve only talked the talk, let’s see if I can walk the walk.’And God help me, I will move heaven and earth to make sure this family gets what they need.
Maisie calls out for me. As I turn to go Alfie gives me one last piece of advice. ‘I’m not an expert on make-up. I don’t know how you can stand the feel of goop on your face but think about wearing that pink stuff on your cheeks. The dark hair washes you out.’
Laughter bursts out of me again. He’s such a prescient little boy and I love his lack of filter; if only everyone was so honest in such an innocent way. ‘I promise I will.’
Jo just shakes her head and gives me a what-can-you-say grin.
Chapter 7
Dusk falls on Friday and I’m exhausted in the best way. I lock up and say goodbye to Harry, leaving him with a bag of goodies including fruit and drinks for the weekend before I meander slowly home. It’s a warm night and I’m happy the weather is nice so Harry will be able to keep dry and hopefully sleep less fitfully with only a soft breeze blowing through.
I catalogue the week as I walk. While I’ve been learning on the go, I’ve adapted quickly and done the best I can with the resources at hand, but even better than that is I’ve enjoyed every second of this new bookish life. Doing things my way, to promote the love of reading – is there anything better? The workdays are so strikingly different to Astor, and while I’m still very new I fantasise about making a life here for good. It’s something to dream about. Aside from having no money to sink into the library, the only other issue is Maisie and her distinct surliness.
I’m not quite sure how to handle an employee who outright disregards everything I say. Back at Astor, a person like that wouldn’t last five minutes. The NDAs and employment contracts would put paid to any potential problems arising from their removal. But I don’t want to be like that. I want to inspire her,make her fall in love with librarianship again, but is that even possible? I sense there’s more to Maisie than she lets on. Sometimes I catch her with the saddest look on her face, staring off into the distance, lost in the ether. It’s hard to know how to broach it with her prickly nature, or even if it’s my place – which being a work environment it definitely isn’t – but so far everyone in Willow Grove seems to blur those lines. If only I knew if I could with Maisie. Does she need someone to confide in? Hard to tell …
Memberships are slowly climbing: 470 to go as per the last tally before lock-up. Word is spreading but we’re still an impossibly long way off our goal. Finding my feet slows efforts down, but I’m hopeful the following week will be even better as I gain confidence in my job and how to go about it. There’s been no real buzz, and I know from my experience at Astor, if I want people to visit the library, I have to make a splash. A lot of noise. Something to pull people from their lives with a budget that may as well be zero. But how? It’s definitely doable, I just need to drum up an idea that’s out of this world.
My little thatched-roof cottage comes into view, which always provokes a smile and a warm cosy feeling. Inside, I throw my keys and handbag on the hall table and then myself in the overstuffed chair by the window, wishing I had time to press my nose in a book.
Nerves are fluttering at the impending date with Finn. The welcoming committee ofone. If any other guy had suggested such a thing, I’d have run a mile, but Finn’s different somehow. There’s something downright wholesome about the man. Maybe it was that he put me at ease, and it felt more like an invitation to get to know one another with the hopes of becoming what – friends?So then is it officially a date? It certainly came across that way under the guise of a tour of Willow Grove, which I’m itching to see in more detail. There hasn’t been time, except for a quick supermarket shop and a walk here and there some evenings.
My love life has been sporadic to say the least (if you don’t count all the fictional men I’ve been infatuated with). I’m not into the rich playboys that are everywhere in London. They’re all too vapid and shallow. Work colleagues were out too, because I never trusted their motivations. The dating pool invariably shrinks when you second-guess every man you meet. Being an unknown here in Willow Grove allows me to let my guard down a bit – because no one knows I’m an Astor, they can’t be angling for anything in that regard – and it’s the most liberating feeling.That’sprobably why I’m excited about the date with Finn, and not just because he’s a bit of all right.
There’s no time to ruminate. I throw myself in the shower and then dress casually in jeans and a tee. I briefly debate about whether to put on make-up or go natural. In my former life, I was always made up for work or events, so I decide to go bare-faced tonight, except I take Alfie’s advice on board and dust a bit of blusher on my cheeks. It’s such a freedom, and I delight in these small wins in being able to choose and not have that choice dissected. I throw my hair into a loose ponytail and spritz on some perfume. Looking at my reflection is a revelation, because staring back at me is a woman who looks happy, with bright sparkling eyes that speak of the anticipation of what’s to come.
