In the belly of the library van, Dore was hoisting a large box onto the library counter.
‘We are saved, thanks to these,’ he cried, pulling out bundles of mail.
Joyce’s head was foggy with exhaustion as she gently rocked the baby. ‘Sorry, Dore, I don’t follow.’
‘We havefans, dear girl. Hundreds of them, in fact, from all around the world!’
He fished out letters, and it was then that Joyce realised that cheques and money were spiralling to the library floor.
‘Listen to this one. “Having read inThe Timesthe inspiring account of the mobile library, I enclose a small contribution, with all good wishes from a Scotswoman. Ten shillings.” God bless you, Jill Forbes,’ Dore announced, beside himself with excitement.
‘And another. “What a marvellous innovation, long may your library continue to serve, please find enclosed a donation. With all best wishes, from the library staff at Yale University”.’
‘Yale University? But that’s in America.’
‘You’re catching on fast, Joyce,’ Dore joked. ‘There are donations from libraries and individuals around the world. From Sydney to Malay. There’s even one from the Library of Parliament in Ottawa and the Library of Congress in Washington. Proves the Yanks are paying close attention to our war. Who knows? They may yet join us. But wait for it!’
‘Dore, calm down, you’re in danger of imploding,’ she laughed. He was so keyed up, he had still not seemed to notice the baby in their midst.
‘There’s even a letter of support and a donation from H.G. Wells,’ he gushed. ‘He wroteThe Time Machinewhilst living in St Pancras. He was most impressed with our travelling library.’
He patted the library counter, his eyes shining in the dim light. ‘Seems our little travelling Blitz library is famous. Thanks toyou, Joyce.’
‘Us, Dore,’ she corrected.
‘No!You, Joyce. Look, this article in theSydney Morning Heraldeven has a front-page article on you.’ He slid a newspaper – sent over from Australia, no less – over the counter.
There was a photo of Joyce taken on the day of the launch, midway through her speech. The headline read,Meet the plucky librarian who has become a pin-up girl for Reading for Victory.
Joyce couldn’t bring herself to look too closely, for there in the photo, standing behind her, looking so beautiful and proud, was Adela.
Just then, the baby began to grizzle, and Harry rubbed her back softly.
Joyce felt like she had woken up midway through a strange dream.
‘But how do they know about us?’ she asked Dore.
‘Remember the launch when we were followed by the BBC andMovietone News? Seems it was syndicated around the world, and shown in cinemas from as far away as Singapore and Sydney.’
‘I still don’t understand. Why are we only hearing about this supportnow? The launch was four months ago. It’s too late now, surely?’
‘So many letters were arriving daily to the library itself, but the post office assumed we were closed when they saw the tarpaulin over the roof. So they’ve been storing them in a PO box for months now, and they’ve only just come to light. And some letters were just addressed,Travelling Library, London. It took a fair while for many to reach us.’
He pulled a letter from his jacket. ‘This one was addressed just to you. I haven’t opened it.’
He passed it over and spread his arms wide. ‘Don’t you see, Joyce,’ he breathed. ‘We have more than enough money to keep the mobile library on the road for years to come. And even purchase new stock! We live to fight another day.’
‘We?’ she enquired, raising her eyebrows.
Dore looked sheepish. ‘I withdrew my resignation. I may have made a hasty decision. Happily, they accepted, so it looks like you’re stuck with me at the library for a little while longer.’
‘Dore,’ Joyce said softly. ‘I’m thrilled.’
The baby’s grizzling went up a notch. Dore started, his balloon of excitement finally deflating.
‘Good grief,’ he exclaimed. ‘Whose baby is that?’
‘At last,’ Joyce chuckled, before reaching for Harry’s hand. ‘We have news too, Dore. God willing it will be made official soon. We are going to be parents.’
