“Never mind. I’ve got all the notes for you here.”
June hesitated. “I’m afraid I’ve got too much on. I can’t join FOCL.”
Mrs.B glared at her. “For fuck’s sake, June. Women threw themselves under racehorses so that you could have the same rights as men, and you’re telling me you’re too scared to fight for your own job?”
“I don’t think I’d have much to offer,” June muttered.
“You have plenty to offer—don’t use that as an excuse. You’re just a bloody coward.” She turned and stormed away, leaving June red-faced at the desk.
It carried on like this all morning. Every time someone who’d been at the meeting came into the library, they tried to talk to Juneabout FOCL. And every time, she saw the same look of disappointment in their eyes when she told them she wasn’t joining. By lunchtime, most of the FOCL members had given up on trying to convince her to get involved. Instead, when June fought the returns trolley round the library, she was greeted with unusual silence from the regulars. She tried to carry on as normal, but she could feel Mrs.B’s angry glare wherever she went, and every time June walked into the Children’s Room, the parents all pointedly stopped talking. Even Jackson refused to catch her eye when he came in to return some books. The only one who would talk to her was Vera, and she was the last person June wanted to hear from right now.
“I don’t blame you for not getting involved,” Vera said, showering June with shortbread crumbs. “This place is going to the dogs—there’s no point trying to save it.”
June dearly wanted to ask Vera why, if she hated the library so much, she insisted on coming in so often. But she bit her tongue and pushed the trolley past.
At half past three, the doors swung open and Chantal came charging in.
“Why didn’t you come on Friday?”
“I’m sorry, Chantal.”
“Has everyone told you what happened? I’m in charge of social media and you’ve been voted the secretary. Maybe at the next meeting you can see if—”
“I won’t be at the next meeting.”
“What? Why not?”
“I can’t. I’m sorry, but I’m too busy.”
June saw the teenager’s face crumple, and she had to look away.
“How can you not care about the library? You’re just like those council bastards.”
“It’s not like that; it’s complicated.”
“It’s not complicated. If you’re not bothered, that’s fine. I don’t give a shit; I don’t even like this place anyway.”
•••
At five o’clock, June rushed out of the library. Never had she been so relieved that a working day was over. She kept her eyes fixed on the pavement as she made her way down the Parade, but she could still feel people staring at her as she walked past. At one point she thought she heard someone mutter “Traitor,” but when she glanced round there was just a young mum pushing a stroller. Even so, June increased her pace toward the Golden Dragon.
As she reached the takeaway, June sighed with relief; she could always rely on George not to engage her in conversation or pass judgment. But today she found Alex standing behind the counter, singing tunelessly to himself.
“Hey, I was hoping you’d come in,” he said when he saw her. “I’ve finishedPride and Prejudice.”
“Great.” June gave a weak smile, hoping Alex could sense that she wasn’t in the mood to chat.
“It was better than I expected. Some parts were a bit slow, but Elizabeth was cool, even without the martial arts.”
“I’m glad you enjoyed it. Please can I have chicken in black bean sauce and plain rice?”
“So, what are you reading at the moment? I’m looking forward to another recommendation.”
“I’m really sorry, Alex, but please could you put my order through? I’m in a bit of a hurry.”
A hurt look crossed his face. “Of course.”
He typed the order into the till and began wiping down thecounter. June sat down and took a deep breath, inhaling the smell of frying garlic. On the wall opposite was a portrait of a severe-looking Chinese woman who had scowled down at June since she’d first started coming to the takeaway as a child with her mum. Today, the woman looked particularly displeased.
