“That’s rubbish. It was one tiny mark.”
“I’m not going to stand here arguing with you, Miss Jones. The council has made their decision, which you would know if you’d bothered to read the e-mail. Until the inquiry is finished, you are not to enter the library for work or personal reasons.”
“This is crazy. There wasn’t any damage to the library—we made the place look better. And who will cover for me while I’m suspended?”
“We’re bringing someone in from Central to assist Marjorie. Unfortunately, the council doesn’t have the resources to fully cover you, so the library opening hours will have to be reduced.”
“No! You can’t, please. If the library hours are cut, then our visitor numbers will go down and that will affect the consultation.”
Richard shrugged. “The decision is out of my hands, Miss Jones.”
There was something about the way he said her name that made June’s skin crawl. “This is deliberate, isn’t it? You want to make it look like the library is failing because you want to close it. Are you in on this Cuppa Coffee deal too?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Richard said. “And I suggest you stop making such wild accusations. Your irresponsible behavior has done enough damage to this library already.” He turned and started walking toward the library.
“My phone is in there,” June called after him. “Can I at least collect it?”
Richard sighed. “All right. But wait in the entrance while I find it.”
Inside the library, everything looked exactly as June had left iton Friday, yet something was different. It wasn’t the fact that the blinds were no longer brown with dust, or the faint smell of fresh paint mixed in with the familiar scents of wood and paper. And it certainly wasn’t the tiny coffee stain on the carpet, no bigger than a paperback. No, it was something about the sound of the library; the silence felt different somehow. June might have been wrong, but it felt like the stories had stopped whispering to one another.
“Here you go.” Richard walked out of the office and handed June her phone.
She stared at it, unsure what to do next. “Do you have to do this? Please, can’t you keep the library’s normal hours until the consultation ends?”
Richard looked at her for a moment. “What did you think would happen? That you could humiliate the council on the news and we’d just let you get away with it?”
“If you’re angry at me, then go ahead and sack me. But please, don’t punish the whole community because of something I did.”
He let out a dry laugh. “Perhaps you should have thought about that before you pulled your little stunt. You have no one to blame but yourself for the library hours being cut.”
“Please, Richard. I’m begging you.”
“I suggest you leave the premises now. You’re breaking the terms of your suspension and I’ll have to call the police.”
June took one last glance around the library. She felt her eyes start to well up, so she turned and ran out the door.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
June spent the rest of the week hiding at home. She couldn’t sleep and had no appetite. She tried readingSense and Sensibility, but not even Elinor Dashwood and Edward Ferrars could cheer her up. Richard’s words ran through her mind on an agonizing loop.Did you think we’d let you get away with humiliating the council? You have no one to blame but yourself for the library hours being cut.
June paced the house like a caged animal. If only she’d followed Marjorie’s advice and stayed out of the protests, allowed others to fight for the library instead of getting involved. Why had she ever thought she could help, when in fact she’d just made everything worse? And then there were the FOCL members—would they blame June when they found out the library hours had been reduced because of her suspension?
But mostly she thought of Stanley, alone in that small, dark trailer. She now understood why he spent all day in the library, especially in the colder months. How would he survive the nextwinter without the library? All these thoughts invaded every waking minute and would only stop when June drank so much wine she passed out.
On Friday morning, when she’d run out of alcohol and eaten the last item of food in the freezer, June pulled on a pair of trainers and left the house. As she reached the village green, she saw Stanley sitting on a bench by the pond, engrossed in a book. June didn’t want to bother him, but as she walked past, he looked up and waved her over.
“June! Do join me.” He indicated the bench next to him and June sat down. “Have you read this?” he said, showing her the cover of his book. It was a library copy ofThe House at Pooh Corner. “It was Mark’s favorite when he was small. I must have read it to him dozens of times.”
“It was one of my favorites too,” June said.
He returned to reading, and the silence between them grew until June couldn’t bear it any longer. “Stanley, I’m so sorry.”
“What for?” he asked, his eyes still on the page.
“For everything.”
“I don’t follow.”
