“My concern is if that if we vote to keep this library open, it might look as if the council can be bullied, or blackmailed even, by actions such as the protest in Chalcot. And I worry what kind of message that would send out to other local interest groups.”
“Are you saying that we should close Chalcot Library as what... a punishment because they protested?” the female voice from earlier said. June had no idea who it was, but she wanted to high-five her.
“No, Alice, of course not,” Richard said. “But I do think we should be aware of the optics on this one.”
“Thank you, Councillor Donnelly,” the chairwoman said. “Now,if everyone has had their say, I think we should take a vote on Chalcot Library.”
June could hear the blood racing in her ears. This was really about to happen; the council were about to vote on the future of her mum’s library.
Stanley’s library.
Her library.
“Wait!”
June stood up and looked down onto the chamber floor. Dozens of faces turned to stare up at her, and June felt a wave of vertigo. “I need to say something.”
“How did she get up there?” A red-faced man was pointing up at her. “Send security up there now.”
“I’m sorry, no unscheduled questions,” the chairwoman said.
“Please. My name is June Jones and I’m the assistant at Chalcot Library.”
“If this is about your suspension, Miss Jones, then we’ve already decided to reinstate you,” the chairwoman said.
“It’s not that.” June felt light-headed. What the hell was she doing? This was the kind of crazy thing her mum would have done, but there was no way June could speak in front of all these people. Her mind was blank, and she stared up at the ceiling above her head, domed and gilded, and closed her eyes. She remembered Mrs.Bransworth’s words during the occupation.I’m never scared when I’m fighting for something I know is right.She thought of her mum standing at the school gates, a one-woman picket line. An image of Stanley floated into June’s mind, smiling at her calmly from behind the library door as the police tried to evict him.
She opened her eyes and looked down at the council chamber below.
“Today, I went to the funeral of a friend of mine, Stanley Phelps. If any of you have ever been to Chalcot Library, you’d probably have seen him there. He used to wear a suit every day and he’d read the paper in his favorite chair. He was a quiet man, polite and unobtrusive.”
June saw Richard Donnelly glaring up at her, his eyes bulging. She swallowed.
“When you all threatened to close our library, Stanley became involved in the campaign to save it. He went to every meeting and volunteered to be the group treasurer. And then one day he decided to occupy the library.”
“He was a fighter,” Mrs.B shouted from down by June’s feet.
“I had the privilege of being Stanley’s friend, so I came to understand a bit about why the library was so important to him. You see, despite his smart appearance and friendly manner, Stanley had a difficult past.”
In the distance June could hear raised voices. Sam must be on his way.
“Stanley had done some things he deeply regretted and lost people he loved. But he told me that however bad things had been, whatever mistakes he made, there had always been somewhere that he could go. A place where no one would judge him, where he would be treated with respect and kindness. He described libraries as a safety net that always caught him.”
“Where the hell are security?” Richard Donnelly said.
“Stanley helped me to understand something invaluable. You see, libraries aren’t just about books. They’re places where an eight-year-old boy can have his eyes opened up to the wonders of the world, and where a lonely eighty-year-old woman can come for some vital human contact. Where a teenager can find precious quietspace to do her homework and a recently arrived immigrant can find a new community. Libraries are places where everyone, rich or poor, wherever they come from in the world, can feel safe. Where they can access information that will empower them.”
Behind her, June heard a door swing open and the sound of feet walking in.
“A mobile library might still provide books, but it can never be the heart of a community. So please, when you vote on these six libraries, think of all the people out there like Stanley. You may not realize it now, but without libraries, every single one of us will suffer.”
There was a stunned silence. June felt a hand on her arm and turned to see Sam standing next to her. Behind him were two panting men.
“I’m sorry. You have to leave now,” he said.
June glanced back down at the floor below. Everyone was still staring up at her. Her eyes fell on one dark-haired woman, who discreetly raised her hand in a thumbs-up. Then June felt Sam pull on her arm, and she turned and let him lead heraway.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
